To Mr John Blackwood.
“Hôtel d’Odessa, Spezzia, Sept. 19, 1863.
“By my last short note you will have seen how eagerly I accepted the opportunity of idleness and threw the blame of it on you,—though I say not altogether idle, having to look over again the story I have been writing for Chapman called ‘Luttrell,’ and which he has been desiring to publish some months back.
“I am glad to get back to my old den, Casa Cap., where I write more at ease and am freer from intrusions than here. Pray let me have No. 2 ‘Tony’ to look over again, and send me No. 3 in the form and quantity it will appear in the Magazine. Above all, let your people be sure to send me ‘Maga.’
“These Italians are making immense warlike preparations. This week the king reviews 360 pieces of artillery,—more than half the number rifled guns. By the end of the month the fleet—now a very respectable squadron—will manouvre before him. Whatever wars France may engage in these poor devils are sure to partake of. Nice and Savoy are only instalments of the price they are to pay for Solferino.”
To Mr John Blackwood.
“Casa Capponi, Florence, Oct. 1, 1863.
“I was called here by telegraph too late to see my only son alive. He died of a ruptured bloodvessel on Wednesday last.
“I have for some years back had many misfortunes; this one fills the cup. I am as bereaved as one can be. My wife is dying, and this shock may be her last. I have no right to obtrude upon you with these, but I think you will pity me. Pity is indeed my portion, for one more broken there cannot be. If I had not begun with you, I would not now, in justice to you, continue. You will serve us both by drawing out what I have written to a fifth number if possible. If not, I will do my utmost to be ready; four parts there are.
“Pray forgive me in all this affliction that I mix you up with what should not touch you.