IV. DUBLIN—CLAKE—PORT STEWART. 1830-1837
During the year 1830 Lever busied himself in Dublin with the cult of medicine. Possibly his rough experiences in America had chastened him and had induced him to settle down to work. He attended diligently the Medico-Chirurgical—a school now extinct—and Sir Patrick Dunn’s Hospital. He was also the life and soul of a medical debating society which met in a house in Grafton Street. One of his fellow-students describes him as being in the habit of speaking with such extraordinary volubility and energy, that it was suspected he was indulging in exhilarating drugs. Walking home one night with a friend from a supper-party, at which he had displayed astonishing merriment, Lever fell into a taciturn condition. On being rallied by his friend he apologised for his stupidity, or moroseness, by stating that, in order to tune himself up to concert pitch, he had that evening taken sixty grains of opium, and now that the excitement was over he was drowned in depression.
This curious fluctuation of spirits was a marked characteristic: even when he had abandoned the use of opium, he was to be found in the same hour overflowing with gaiety and sunk in the deepest dejection.
Though he worked hard and steadily at his studies in 1830, he did not fail to find sources of amusement. He railed against the sameness and the dulness of social life in Dublin. He complained of stupid dinner-parties where men of law and men of physic talked an unintelligible and irritating jargon. Dublin, he declared, was too professedly sociable to patronise the theatre; too sociable to form clubs,—too sociable, in fact, to go into society. He sighed for Gottingen and Heidelberg and for the more spacious life of German cities. Then a happy thought occurred to him. Why should he not establish in the Irish capital a Burschenschaft? He consulted Samuel Lover,—painter, song-writer, musician, novelist,—and joining forces with him, a club on the most approved German model was formed. Lever was elected “Grand Llama,” and was entitled to be addressed as “Most Noble Grand.” This club bore a strong resemblance to Curran’s “Monks of the Screw,” * but it was a less aristocratic, and probably a less bibacious, society. The members wore scarlet vests with gilt buttons, and a red skull-cap adorned with white tassels. They met in a room in Commercial Buildings, afterwards used as the Stock Exchange. Suppers, songs, and conversational jousts formed the staple of the entertainment. Lever, as president, occupied a chair placed upon a dais covered with baize, with a representation, in brass-headed nails, of a sword and tobacco-pipe crossed. Writing thirty-five years later about the club and its functions, he described it as “very fine fooling,” and he goes on to say that no wittier, no pleasanter, and no more spirituel set of fellows ever sat around a punch-bowl.
* “The Order of St Patrick,” to give this club its proper
title, was founded by Barry Yelverton, afterwards Lord
Avonmore. Curran was its leading spirit: he wrote its
charter song, the famous “Monks of the Screw,” quoted by
Lever in ‘Jack Hinton.’ The Convent of “The Order of St
Patrick” was in Kevin’s Street, Dublin, and the club had
another meeting-place in the country, at Curran’a residence,
“The Priory,” in Rathfarnam. Amongst the distinguished
brothers of the order were the Marquis of Townshend (the
Viceroy), Lord Mornington, Grattan, Flood, Lord Kilwarden,
and the Earl of Arran. The club ceased to exist in 1795, but
Lever, scorning anachronisms, introduced ‘Jack Hinton’ to
the “Monks” at a later date.—E. D.
Lever’s fellow-student, Francis Dwyer (who afterwards rose to rank in the service of Austria), provides a pleasant description of the Dublin Burschenschaft. He avers that it gave its members a relish for intellectual enjoyment. “The most noble grand” conducted the proceedings with tact and delicacy, never permitting any lapse into indecorousness.
“That he himself was a gainer,” Dwyer insists. “He learned how to lead, and he also acquired a juster estimate of his own powers, and greater confidence in himself. No one, indeed, suspected what was really in the man, and some even shook their heads as to what good could ever come out of his unprofessional pre-eminence.” He was learning in joyousness what he expounded in story.
Lever made his first appearance in print in ‘Bolster’s Cork Quarterly Magazine.’ to which he contributed a paper entitled “Recollections of Dreamland.” This essay concerned itself mainly with the writer’s real or imaginary experiences of opium-eating and opium visions. In ‘Bolster’s’ also appeared his first crude attempt at a story, “A Tale of Old Trinity.” These were anonymous contributions, and their author never acknowledged them, and did not care to have any reference made to them. In January 1830 “a weekly chronicle of criticism, belles lettres, and fine arts” was started in Dublin under the title of ‘The Dublin Literary Gazette.’ In the third number of the ‘Gazette’ Lever commenced “The Log-Book of a Rambler.” There are some other contributions of his, not of much value, to be found in the ‘Gazette.’ The periodical lived for only six months, and from its ashes arose ‘The National Magazine,’ a monthly publication which started in July 1831 and died during the following year. To ‘The National’ Lever contributed some papers—of no higher value than his miscellaneous contributions to the ‘Gazette.’
In 1831 he would seem to have abandoned, temporarily, literary work, and to have toiled at his medical studies. In the summer of this year he obtained, at Trinity College, the degree of Bachelor of Medicine.* His father’s town address was now 74 Talbot Street, and here Lever set up a practice; but business did not flow into Talbot Street, and the young physician soon began to display symptoms of restiveness.
* Dr Fitzpatrick states that he received at the same period
a diploma as M.D. of Louvain in absentia, but Lever did
not obtain the Louvain degree until he was established as a
physician at Brussels.—E. D.
Ireland was smitten by a terrible scourge in the year 1832—a sudden visitation of Asiatic cholera. A Board of Health engaged a number of medical men and despatched them to cholera-stricken districts. Lever applied to the Board for an appointment, and in the month of May he was established at Kilrush, County Clare.
Notwithstanding the gloom which pervaded the district, the young doctor contrived somehow to infect it with a little of his own high spirits. Physicians who worked with him through the awful time declared that wherever Lever went he won all hearts by his kindness, and kept up the spirits of the inhabitants by his cheerfulness. Some of his associates were driven to account for his wondrous exuberance, even after he had been sitting up night after night, by supposing that he was “excited in some unknown and unnatural manner.” Most likely opium was accountable for the phenomenon.
In Kilrush Dr Lever quickly made the acquaintance of a group of companionable men—hard readers and good talkers,—and almost every evening they met at the house of one or the other, or at the cholera hospital. These men were to Clare as the guests at Portumna Castle were to Galway. They knew the country and the people intimately, and they were able to impart their impressions in vivid and interesting guise. To the visitor from Dublin was disclosed another treasury of anecdote and a mine of material for character sketches: and he did not fail to avail himself of the golden opportunity.
Lever remained in Kilrush for about four months and then he returned to Dublin, leaving behind him in Clare many good friends, and bearing with him many pleasant and many ghastly memories.* He could not settle himself down to wait patiently for a city practice, and seeing an advertisement in a newspaper for a doctor to take charge of a dispensary at Portstewart, near Coleraine, he applied for the post and obtained it. In addition to the dispensary he was appointed to the charge of the hospital in Coleraine, and the Derry Board of Health invited him to look after their cholera hospital. He had a wide district to supervise, and, in addition to his cholera practice,* he obtained a good deal of private practice. He was able to report in January 1833, to his friend Spencer, that money was coming in so fast that he was in no need of help from his father.
* To give some idea of the awful havoc which the cholera
created in Clare, it may be stated that one of Lever’s
associates, Dr Hogan, claimed to have treated 6000 cases.—
E. D.
It seems opportune to refer here to a circumstance which had a most marked influence on the greater part of Lever’s life—his attachment to Miss Kate Baker. He had fallen in love with her while he was a schoolboy, and his devotion to his wife—the most beautiful of all his characteristics—was unsullied to the day of his death. Miss Baker was the daughter of Mr W. M. Baker, who was Master of the Royal Hibernian Marine School,* situated on Sir John Rogerson’s Quay. The Bakers moved from Dublin to the County Meath about 1830, Mr Baker being appointed to the charge of the Endowed School at Navan. Young Dr Lever was often to be found boating on the river Boyne with his sweetheart after his return from Canada. The doctor’s father was anxious that his brilliant son should make a good match—that is to say that, like Mickey Free, he should “marry a wife with a fortune”; but much as Charles desired to please his father, he resolved that nothing should induce him to abandon the girl of his heart. His father’s objection to Miss Baker was solely because of her dowerless condition. Charles endeavoured fruitlessly to enlist his mother’s sympathies: Mrs Lever’s faith in her husband’s wisdom was not to be shaken. Finding that he could make no impression upon his parents, the young man married Miss Baker privately.
* Mr Baker is described previously as “Deputy-Treasurer to
the Navy and Greenwich Hospital.”
Oddly enough—and as a corollary to the absence of any official birth-record,—no accurate document recording the date of the marriage ceremony could be found when Lever’s biographer, Dr Fitzpatrick, instituted a search. After long and wearisome investigations he discovered in Navan the Registry Book which chronicles the marriage of “Dr Lever.” The entry is undated, and there is no mention of the bride’s name. The Rector of Navan was of opinion that the ceremony had been performed by a Mr Morton (who was a cousin of the Marchioness of Headfort), but he could throw no further light upon the nebulous entry: he offered a conjecture that the marriage was celebrated between the month of August 1832 and the month of August 1833. There is something delightfully Leverian about this. Despite the imperfectness of the record, Lever’s choice was a singularly happy one. Amongst the many things which stand to Mrs Lever’s credit are, that at an early stage of her married life she induced her husband to abandon the use of snuff, and she also cured him of another of the bad habits of his student days—indulgence in opium.
The probable date of Lever’s marriage is September 1832. During this month he obtained leave of absence in order “to complete some important private engagements,” and in all probability the most important of these engagements was his wedding. It is certain that the Portstewart dispensary doctor was a married man in January 1833. Early in that month he speaks (in a letter to Spencer) of his “household” attending a ball in Derry; and in the following May he writes: “I have two of Kate’s sisters here, which makes it more agreeable than usual chez nous.”
Early in this year Dr Lever sustained a sad blow: his mother expired suddenly in Dublin. Her death prostrated James Lever, now in his seventieth year. He could not bear to remain in the house where his wife had died, and he retired to the residence of his eldest son at Tullamore.
He never rallied from the shock, and at the end of March 1833 he died in Tullamore. This event finally broke up the Lever establishment in Dublin.
James Lever left all his possessions to his two sons: at the time it was computed that his estate would realise a sufficient sum to bring to each of them about £250 a-year, but it is doubtful if it produced this; and it is certain that Charles realised his share at an early stage of his literary career.
The severity of the cholera was now waning, and the terrible epidemic disappeared as suddenly and as mysteriously as it had come. Coleraine and Derry no longer required the services of Dr Lever, and he was thrown back upon his Portstewart dispensary. The most important man in Portstewart was a Mr Cromie. This magnate was lord of the manor, and he took a keen interest in local affairs. He was chairman of the Dispensary Board, and being of a strait-laced and somewhat evangelical disposition, he could not tolerate the exuberance of spirits displayed by the dispensary doctor. Lever tried to put the chairman into good humour by means which hitherto he had never found to fail; but Mr Cromie was not to be cajoled, and was even unwilling to admit the doctor’s contention that he never neglected his duties, and that the poor people in the district could vouch for this.
Portstewart was then a rising watering-place, sufficiently gay during the summer months, but deadly dull when “the season” was over. Its very dulness was a spur to Charles Lever. He could not set up a Burschen club, but he managed to make things lively in the neighbourhood. He was known as “the wild young doctor.” Stories of his exploits were rife. Once, when galloping to visit a patient, a turf-cart faced him on the roadway. Not being able to pull up his horse, he leaped him over the cart—just as Charles O’Malley “topped the mule-cart” in Lisbon. Another reminiscence of him was that, in order not to disappoint his young wife, he attended a ball given at Coleraine by the officers of a regiment stationed there, and he spent the entire night riding backwards and forwards between the ballroom and the house of a sick child. On another occasion he organised a motley-clad expedition to attend a fancy-dress ball given by Lady Garvagh. Vehicles being scarce, the expedition had to press into its service a furniture van, a hearse, and a mourning coach. Returning in the small hours, the van (in which Lever, in fancy dress, was travelling) broke down near Coleraine, and the wild doctor endeavoured to obtain shelter under the roof of a gentleman who resided at Castle Coe; but the dwellers at the castle fancied that the visitors were travelling showmen or gipsies, and Lever and his party were obliged to spend the night in the van. Next morning horses were procured, and the furniture-waggon made a triumphal entry into Coleraine.
These and other pranks gave offence to the austere Mr Cromie. In June Lever wrote to Spencer the following letter:—
“As to matters here, the dispensary is likely to go by the board,—the private quarrels and personal animosities of rival individuals warring against each other will most probably terminate in its downfall, and Mr Cromie since his marriage has become very careless of all Portstewart politics. The loss would not be very great, but at this time even £50 per annum is to be regretted. However, matters may ultimately be reconciled, though I doubt it much. In fact, the subscribers know by this time that the county practice, and not the dispensary salary, would form the inducement for any medical man to remain here, and they calculate on my staying without the dispensary as certainly as with it, and that my services can be had when wanted, without the necessity of a retaining fee. This is a northern species of argument, but unfortunately a correct one.... As for myself, I am just as well pleased [at the lack of gaiety and festivities] as if we had balls and parties, for I find a man’s fireside and home his very happiest and pleasantest place.... Dr Bead is endeavouring by all possible means to usurp the Portstewart practice, and has even got his mother-in-law, the archdeacon’s widow, to purchase a house and reside here. But the game is not succeeding, and whatever little there is to be made is still, and likely to be, with me.”
Finally Lever triumphed in a measure over Mr Cromie, and was temporarily lifted out of his gloomy mood. Domestic affairs were running a pleasant course. In September a daughter* was born to him, and in sending the good news to Dublin, he adds that “the neighbours,” in honour of the event, had sent him presents “sufficient to stock a garrison for a siege.”
* The first-born was christened Julia. She married Colonel
Nevill, afterwards Commander of the Forces of the Nizam of
Hyderabad. She died at “Nevill’s Folly,” Hyderabad Deccan,
early in the year 1897.—E. D.
The following year found him again in a troubled condition. Portstewart was displaying symptoms of decline as a watering-place. He writes in August 1834 to Spencer:—
“If prospects do not brighten here—of which I see little chance—I must pitch my tent somewhere else, as when once a fashionable bathing-place begins to decline, its downfall is all but inevitable. I am much disposed to book to Canada, for though the scale of remuneration is very small, there is plenty of occupation for my craft—and living is cheap. An English watering-place would undoubtedly be more to my liking, but would require more of l’argent than I am likely to have.”
During the following year, in addition to dispensary worries, Lever was seriously disturbed about the state of his health. Rheumatism assailed him, and his left arm (according to himself) was “like a dead man’s limb.” He consulted his former professor, Surgeon Cusack, who told him that probably he would have to abandon Portstewart, and seek a more genial winter climate. To Spencer he wrote in June:—
“Our prospects here are black enough. Mr Cromie and his party have, by an overwrought severity in manners and opinion, completely terrified all people from frequenting this as a watering-place, and we are now destitute of all society,—save a few widows and old maids come to live on small means and talk scandal. The complete desertion of the place by all people of means has rendered my occupation gone, and my once high and mighty functions might also—and must be—transmitted to some country apothecary. Partly from illness, and partly from the causes I have mentioned, I have scarcely done anything these five last months.”
During the summer, however, the sick man rallied. His spirits rose as he observed the little watering-place filling up once more. In August his report to Dublin was that Portstewart was fast becoming a paradise for the lodging-house keepers,—cottages fetching £15 to £20 a-month. He goes on to say that “about four thousand strangers are here—glad to get any accommodation—living in hovels and sleeping on the ground. There is a great deal of company-seeing—but all heavy dinners. No music, nor any pleasant people to chat to. I have been gradually getting more illegible,” he continues, “till I find the last of this letter resembling a Chaldean MS. I am ready to shout from the pain of my right elbow,—my horse fell and rolled over me, and in the endeavour to rise fell back upon me. Those who saw the occurrence thought I was killed on the spot.”
Presently he formed one of the most important acquaintanceships of his life. Amongst the many visitors to Portstewart was William Hamilton Maxwell, Rector of Balla, near Castlebar. Maxwell had published his ‘Stories of Waterloo, in 1829, and his ‘Wild Sports of the West’ in 1830. To Lever at this period Maxwell was a literary demigod. The two men exchanged views about Irish life and character, and Maxwell fired the dispensary doctor with a desire to beget a novel of adventure.
If ever a writer was handsomely equipped for the creating of tales of romantic adventure or boisterous Irish humour, that writer was assuredly Charles Lever. He had spent his early days in an atmosphere charged with recollections of a brilliant era and a mettlesome, laughter-loving people. As a mere youth he had displayed a love for good books, a faculty of improvisation, and a facility in the art of composition. Endowed with an excellent education in his own country, he had enlarged his knowledge of life and literature by travel, observation, and study in foreign countries. He was a member of a profession whose duties bring one into close touch with all sorts and conditions of men. His imagination was lively and fertile, his vision kaleidoscopic, his power of observation quick and true. He had a high sense of honour and an unaffected admiration for noble and valorous deeds: his appreciation of wit and humour was keen and sound, his love of fun and frolic ebullient.*
* Edgar Allan Poe pronounced Lever’s humour to be the humour
of memory and not of the imagination,—a criticism which is
only a half truth.
He had been indulging, in a desultory fashion, in literary vagaries during the dull months of his Portstewart life,* but he had not put much heart into his literary work since the death of ‘The National Magazine.’
* A cousin of Lever, Mr Harry Innes, told Dr Fitzpatrick
that Lever, during his Portstewart days, had written a
considerable portion of a work on Medical Jurisprudence.—E.
D.
Maxwell, however, had reanimated him; and when the author of ‘Stories of Waterloo’ returned to the West of Ireland (in the autumn of 1835), Lever got into communication with editors of various publications. He was especially anxious to get a hearing at the office of ‘The Dublin University Magazine’ (launched in January 1833). The earliest story of his which appeared in this interesting periodical was “The Black Mask.” There is a somewhat curious history concerning this tale. In 1833 Lever had entrusted the manuscript of the story to a Dublin acquaintance, instructing him to deliver it to a certain publisher in London. No acknowledgment came from this publisher—who, possibly, was not in the habit of corresponding with unsolicited contributors—and at length, failing to obtain any reply to his letters of inquiry, Lever rashly concluded that the manuscript had been lost. He re-wrote the story and sent it, in 1836, to Dublin. When “The Black Mask” appeared in the May number of ‘The Dublin University Magazine,’ William Carleton, the novelist, informed the editor that not only was the tale a translation, but that it was a flagrantly pirated version of a translation which had appeared in an English publication called ‘The Story-Teller,’ Lever was furious at being charged with a literary fraud, but he hardly knew how to answer the charge. Fortunately young Mrs Lever had seen her husband writing the first version of the story, but even this did not explain everything satisfactorily. Eventually it was discovered that the envoy to whom Lever had entrusted the MS. of “The Black Mask” in 1833 had surreptitiously disposed of it to ‘The Story-Teller.’
Throughout the year 1836 Dr Lever continued to supply ‘The Dublin University Magazine, with contributions—short stories and reviews. He had quickly established pleasant relations with James M’Glashan, the publisher of the magazine.*
* James M’Glashan’s early history is not very clear. He
migrated to Dublin, probably in the Twenties. About 1830 he
was secretary of the Dublin Booksellers’ Association. He was
with Messrs Curry from 1840 to 1846 at 9 Upper Sackville
Street In 1846 he went to D’Olier Street, and was in
business there with Mr M. H. Gill until 1856, when Mr Gill
bought him out of the firm of M’Glashan and Gill. The
foregoing facts have been communicated to me by Mr Michael
Gill, B.A., Director of Messrs M. H. Gill & Son, Ltd., and a
grandson of the M. H. Gill who was M’Glashan’s partner
—E. D.
A letter written in May to M’Glashan has been preserved:—
“My dear Sir,—I have just seen the advt. of contents of ‘University’ for June, among which the ‘Post Mortem’ holds honourable station, and hope it may merit it. I write these few lines hurriedly to ask if you will spare space for a ‘story’ * in your July number, as I have one ready, and will send it if you desire. As I am going with Maxwell on an expedition on Thursday, will you let me know your reply before then?
* “The Emigrants Tale.”
“Maxwell and Bentley have been sparring, so you are not to expect the review of ‘Picton,’ as the wild sportsman is in great dudgeon with the mighty publisher.
“Whenever anything can be got from him worth your while, I shall press for it. At present he is toiling for the ‘Bivouac,’ which is to appear immediately.”
The four following letters written to Spencer afford interesting glimpses of the young doctor’s life at this period:—
"PORTSTEWART, June 13, 1836.
“I have reaped no small self-praise from the circumstance that I have not been a bore to you for nearly three months, for it only wants a few days of that time since we parted in Dublin. How I have existed in that space I can scarcely say, but one fact is undoubted—not from the proceeds of my profession.
“There has been nothing to do here for the whole cordon sanitaire of medicals that invests this and the surrounding country; and idleness—unbroken idleness—has been our portion, and you well know, my dear Saunders,* the far niente is not dolce when it is compulsory, and thus, if I have been working little I have grieved much.
* “Saunders” was a nickname given by Lever to Spencer.
“It was, as far as occupation is concerned, fortunate that I became a scribbler, but in respect to money the Currys are slowest of the slow, and so I am again on my beam-ends for cash, with some petty debts boring me to boot. I have applied to the Currys, but not so pressingly as my circumstances demand, for a man does not willingly expose his poverty to strangers; and it is rank bad policy—if avoidable—for a poor author to confess his poverty to his publisher.
“As my summer commences in July I may yet do something, but I have made up my mind to leave this,—its reputation as a fashionable watering-place is fast going, if not gone, and I am left musing like Marius amongst the ruins of past greatness, or ‘the last rose of’ anything else you can conceive of loneliness and misery.
“Whenever you do write, give me a hook and a head as to my prospects, for I can hope on with the assistance of the smallest gleam of light that ever glimmered from a taper.
“I sent you a paper a few days since with extracts from an article of mine. Did you get it?
“Since the appearance of the said article, and in consequence thereof, I have been written to by Blackwoods to become a contributor. This is at least flattering, and may be profitable.”
"PORTSTEWART, June 23, 1836.
“I saw some time since an advertisement in a literary journal for an editor for an English paper published in Paris, salary £200 per annum—he being expected to place in the stock purse of the concern £200, for which he is to receive six per cent. This I replied to, and have just got all the particulars, and I may have the appointment if I please. The capital, it being joint stock, is £8000. They have sent me a list of subscribers and account of profits—very flattering,—and the proprietor is the well-known [Reynolds] of the Library, Rue St Augustine—a most respectable and wealthy individual.
“My only reason for entertaining the proposition is my anxiety to emancipate myself from the trammels of this failing place, where I see my prospects daily retrograding, and every chance of my being left the only resident in a healthy population.
“My intention is, if I accept, to establish myself as a doctor in Paris,—there are 40,000 English residents,—and then by my literary labours pave the way to future advancement in my profession.”
"PORTSTEWART, June 29,1836.
“I have thought over the proposition mentioned in my last letter until my head is half crazy. There are many things in it which I could wish were otherwise than they are, but what is there to be found which gives unqualified satisfaction? My object is to go where there is a field for exertion—whether I may be able to cultivate it or not remains to be tried; with £200 and my own means we could at least get on tolerably well if practice did not follow: but I hope it would, and certainly I would endeavour to make it my chief object. I did not mention in my last that a dividend of the profits would be allowed for £200 as well as 6 per cent.... Since I wrote I received a line from Maxwell, who is in Paris, and to whom I wrote requesting that he would call on Mr Reynolds and mention my application, &c. He (Maxwell) speaks very favourably of Mr R, but by all means advises my going over to Paris immediately, and this, though attended with considerable expense, I have almost resolved on doing. If successful, the trip will be well worth the £30 it will cost; if otherwise, it is worth so much to escape a bad speculation—that is, taking it for granted that my foresight will detect its prospects of success or failure. I must only do the best I can, and see as far into the milestone as I am able.... I am resolved, if I go to Paris, to use my senses without bias or prejudice.... If I continue in my present mind I shall leave this on Saturday and be in Paris the following Friday.”
"PORTSTEWART, July 19, 1836.
“I returned from Paris on Thursday last, having contrived within the space of fifteen days to travel there and back, spending one day and a half in London and five whole days in Paris. As to the result of my inquiry on the subject of my trip: I have thought it better, after a deliberate calculation of every bearing of the matter, to decline accepting the Journal.
“Independently of the great sacrifice of time to a pursuit foreign to my profession,—and this I only learned was indispensable on my going to Paris,—I find the expense of living—rent in particular—far beyond my expectations or means, lodgings in any respectable quarter ranging from 3000 to 4000 francs per annum (£120 to £160). The great influx of English, either resident or visitants, has rendered Paris a close competitor with London for extravagance. The changes which the few years since last I saw Paris have brought about, have rendered it the most magnificent city imagination can conceive. New esplanades, ornamented with the most stately and beautiful public buildings, are everywhere to be met with, and all the agréments of out-of-door life abound in Paris. I was present at the trial of [ ], and, in the few days of my stay, contrived to see a good deal both of places and persons. I cannot but regret that the speculation has not fully answered my expectations; but, when considering the time required, the matter of remuneration, the uncertainty of its continuance, and the great danger of again [risking] a fall into the world of a new and foreign city, I am afraid to venture though shockingly tempted. I have returned home to remain, at least until something decidedly better offers.”
“The trip to France, however pleasant and healthful,” he writes to M’Glashan in July, “has not added to my purse’s weight.... If you desire a continuance of my contributions, you can mention when you write.... Maxwell dined with me yesterday. I don’t think you can calculate on much from him at present, as, besides fighting with Bentley the whole battle of Waterloo over again, he is writing a new book for Macrone.... I hear Butt* is about to be my neighbour, and rejoice that he is not leaving the Magazine while he is extending the field of his labours.”
* Isaac Butt, the editor of ‘The Dublin University
Magazine,’ afterwards a famous advocate, and the “father of
the Home Rule movement”—E. D.
Maxwell’s arrival in Portstewart in the summer of 1836 helped to chase away Dr Lever’s gloomy forebodings. In the autumn, when the season was over, he set to work vigorously and made his first bold plunge into the sea,—he regarded his pre-1836 writings merely as dabblings in shallow water. On the 29th of October the first chapter of ‘Harry Lorrequer’ was despatched to Dublin, accompanied by the following note to M’Glashan:—
“I send you Article No. 1 of a series which will include scenes and stories at home and abroad,—some tragic, others (as in the present case) ludicrous. I have had an invitation from Colburn to furnish a two or three volume affair, but I am not in the vein for anything longer or more continuous than magazine work at present.”
The following month he wrote again to M’Glashan:—-
"PORTSTEWART, Saturday night.
“In a gale of wind, slates flying, and the chimneys (such of them as are not blown down) smoking.
“I send you by private hand the proof of chaps, iii., iv., and v. of ‘Lorrequer,’ and am sincerely happy to find they are to your likings, and I hope in the ensuing chapter, which I expect to transmit next week, to do something better. Meanwhile, no comparison with my friend Carleton, I beseech you—so far, very far, indeed, beyond the standard by which I could wish anything of mine measured.
“I hope you may like the enclosed, as you will, better than the preceding chapters. I purpose in the succeeding ones to give you ‘Dr de Courcey Finucane’s Adventures in Bath,’ ‘First Love,’ &c. I have, in plain truth, written all the night, besides employing another hand* to transcribe, for which the printer will remember me in his prayers. Now, ‘Fair play is a jewel,’ as Dr Finucane would say; so send me a proof, if possible, before Wednesday.”
* His wife’s.
M’Glashan’s instinct told him that ‘Lorrequer’ was a windfall. Fearful lest Colburn should secure the young Irish humorist, he despatched to Portstewart an ambassador* whose instructions were to secure Lever at any cost. If money would not buy him, flattery might win him.
* Mr George Herbert—afterwards a well-known Dublin
publisher.—E. D.
Lever, always a victim to impressions of the moment, and always hungry for praise, fell an easy victim to M’Glashan’s ambassador. Ere long the knowledge that his writings were in brisk demand caused him to dream of a wider life than Ulster could promise; his mercurial mind travelled back to the bright days when he had been a sojourner on the Continent. On January 30 he wrote to Spencer:—
“After doctoring many for the last few days I am at last stricken with influenza, and hardly able to answer your letter, which I am most unwilling to defer lest I grow worse, not better. I am most gratified to find that Lady Charleville has interested herself for me, and hope the best results from it. It is singular enough—and perhaps fortunate too—that it is through Sir George’s mother, the Duchess of Richmond, whom Alderman Copeland has procured as a patroness, [?she] has applied, so that if the opportunity to serve me is in her power she may perhaps feel disposed for it.
“As to Moatfield, I thought I should have got £500, but if you think that it is out of the question, offer it to John for £400, and let him, if he accepts, have any convenience as to half of it he proposes. Of course this is contingent on my going to Brussels, for if I do not I shall not want it—at least at present. If Mr Crowther—for whose misfortune I am really sorry—goes to Brussels I shall be glad to hear, for there are many points I am most desirous to be informed upon.
“Cusack was right in respect to the prohibition to practise,—there is a permis to be procured from the Belgian government before any foreign physician can prescribe; but this, if I am connected with the Ambassador, will be, I suppose, a mere matter of form.
“PS.—The influenza, which has been killing others, has been keeping me alive, though I find my outlay always a very respectable distance in advance of my income. The rival doctor here has been dangerously ill, and I have been greatly engaged.
“I have just got a letter from Brussels from another and more competent source than the former. It speaks encouragingly of my prospects, there being ‘but one good English physician in Brussels, and he constantly in jail for debt. It is right’ (I quote the words) ‘to mention that the physician’s fee is but five francs, and that living is much more expensive than formerly, and the English residents fewer in number.’ This, on the whole, is somewhat gloomy, but I know many well-informed persons who think the small fee more profitable, as it is always offered and taken for each visit, and tendered for illnesses which rarely would elicit the guinea. On the whole, I am more discomfited at the dearness of the place than the amount of the remuneration.”
At the end of February he made up his mind finally to voyage to Brussels, and he announced to Spencer his intention of travelling by way of Belfast, Liverpool, London, and Antwerp.
"PORTSTEWART, Feb. 24, 1837.
“I have just received intelligence that the party who interests himself to obtain for me an introduction to Sir G. S. has failed, and I am again stranded. What course to take I really know not, but think my best plan, so far, at least, as I can see, is to set out for Brussels and present such letters as I already have, making myself acquainted with the bearings of the whole matter—to such an extent, at least, as personal observation can point. Longer hesitation would be not only miserable but injurious, for, having been obliged to make known my intention to many persons here, the thing has got abroad, and I am considered en route already. Must, therefore, either resolve to go—or stay—without further delay. The expense of the voyage d’expérimenté will, I know, be very heavy, do what I can,—and I can but ill spare the money,—but what else to do I know not. I wish you would write to John and say that if his friends have not heard from their correspondents, perhaps they would give me a letter to wait on Lady Seymour, which would decide the affair at once. Copeland will give his letter to Bulwer, and I have already one to Crampton. Should I fail in becoming known to and acknowledged by the Ambassador, I have great doubt that it would be prudent to embark in so bold an enterprise under any other sanction or patronage whatever.... I am writing away for Currys’ Magazine, and I have got into a series which will occupy some months, but the pay is small (seven guineas a sheet), and I cannot get a settlement until several sheets are due....
“I shall merely stay,” he continues, “in London one day to procure an introduction to Mr Bulwer, and wait on those persons who interested themselves for me.... I go with no very sanguine hopes of success, and yet I think it better to make the trial than afterwards to regret that I haven’t made it. One thing I have determined on—that I am ready to make any sacrifice of comfort or personal indulgence should my chance of succeeding give me any fair reason for remaining there [at Brussels].”
On the 27th March Mrs Lever wrote from Portstewart to Alexander Spencer:—
“I had a letter from Charles on Thursday, in which he expressed a strong wish that you should know what he is about. He left this for Brussels on the 1st of March, and will be detained there until after the 28th or 30th. I am not sure if you are aware that a permis is necessary before any physician can practise there, and it is obtained by the person applying for it undergoing an examination. Strange to say, the interested persons, the M.D.‘s of Belgium, are the examiners. Charles, however, has been making interest to obtain it without—and hopes to succeed. I shall give you an extract from his letter. ‘I cannot give any idea of the excitement my arrival has caused. Six families have written to Dublin to investigate my claims, character, &c.... Sir George Seymour’—he had two very handsome introductions to the Ambassador—‘told Crampton that if I am not the man destined to carry away all the practice he is greatly mistaken. If I get the permis (and I dont(sp) know whether I shall or not) the game is certainly dead in my favour.’ Another extract. ‘Sir Hamilton Seymour continues to be most kind, and is doing all possible to forward my views. In fact, if great anxiety on all sides here can ensure success, I have every prospect.’ Speaking of living in Brussels, he says: ‘It is fully as cheap as most parts of Germany, and half—actually half—as cheap as Paris. I can get a house unfurnished for £60 per annum, and furnish it complete from top to bottom for £150.’ An extract from the letter before the last. ‘Different persons of quite different opinions on all things, agree in saying that from £800 to £1000 per annum can be made here by the first man. Ten families of the first rank here have been mentioned to me as being ready to support me if I stay.’”
On April 6th Mrs Lever wrote again to Spencer:—
“The commission have been tormenting him by repeated delays, putting off the examination of his papers, with the intention, he thinks, of disgusting him with the whole business, and they had nearly succeeded, but on sending for his passport to leave at once, Sir G. Seymour went to him and requested him to remain until Monday (last), and that if there was any delay then he would demand an immediate answer being given. I will give you an extract from his letter. ‘If my permission be not granted on Wednesday next, or a perfect certainty of obtaining it in a day or two, I shall start from this and bring you over, for I’m resolved on practising here with the prospect held out to me. Already I am making about a pound a-day, and Sir H. Seymour said only five minutes since, I cannot recommend you getting into any scrape, but if you do so, I shall certainly do my best to get you out again.... All the high English here are ready to memorial the king to have me retained here.’ He expects to be home on Sunday next, as he intended starting for Ireland the moment he obtained an answer, favourable or otherwise....
“I hope you will excuse my being so troublesome, but I am sure Charles will remain a very short time here, and I also know he must have money to move us and begin housekeeping, so should be most grateful if you could manage the loan* in any way, and I hope it will not be necessary for him to go by [way of] Dublin, as it would be additional expense. My health is very bad, and I should rather avoid any travelling that was not absolutely necessary. He has been spared knowing how ill I have been by the uncertainty of his stay in Brussels having prevented my writing to him since Sunday fortnight.”
* Alexander Spencer managed all Lever’s business affairs in
Dublin. The loan Mrs Lever refers to here is a loan upon
“Moatfield,” which property her husband was loath to sell
outright: it enshrined pleasant memories. In the days of
Lever’s wooing, the garden of Moatfield had furnished many a
bouquet for Miss Baker.—E. D.
A letter from Lever, dated April 5, reached Spencer shortly after the receipt of Mrs Lever’s note.
“Will you send by this post a few lines to my wife,” the writer asks, “and say you have just heard from me, and that I hope to leave this [Brussels] on Saturday at farthest, and probably will come home by Belfast if I miss the Derry steamer on Tuesday, which would pass my door on Wednesday,—this is as near as I can say? You must send me any money you can when I reach Portstewart, to pay my small debts, as I shall possibly leave a week after my arrival. Let Kate know this, and say I would write to her, but wrote last Sunday by Mr Kane. I am greatly fagged and fretted by the delays and anxieties of my position.”
The same day that he wrote to Spencer he forwarded a letter to M’Glashan:—
“My dear Sir,—The permit to practise is a matter so difficult to obtain, that in fact every English physician has been deterred from trying Brussels for that one and sole cause, and I have come here only to discover that there is a great opening for a fairly qualified and well introduced man,—the others who have been here for several years (before any permit was necessary) being underbred and uneducated men, and unfit for anything but second-class apothecary practice. But still the right to practise, even among the English, is denied to all, except on passing an examination before a jury d’examen des médecins, all interested in the rejection, and only anxious to make Brussels a close borough for themselves and their friends. So stand the affairs: and although I am appointed physician to the Embassy, and am this instant in personal attendance on the Ambassador, I have no right, properly speaking, to practise, nor is it likely that I shall obtain it. However, unpleasant as this undoubtedly is, I find that by the protection of my Ambassador, and the favour of the Government,—who are through his kind and most unwearied endeavour to serve me, my friends,—I may continue to exercise les droits d’un médecin, if not sans peur, at least sans reproche; and if they were to proceed legally against me, the king will interfere and remit my fine; at least so they tell me, and at last, if the persecution should continue, I have only to study for a month and obtain a Louvain degree, which settles all difficulties by one stroke. As it is, I am here in good practice with bad pay. They say £600 a-year can be made. I do not believe it; but I think £400 might, and as everything is moderate, except rent and taxes, a man could do very comfortably on that I intend leaving this on Friday next to bring over my wife and weans, and settle at once.
“My patients here are all the first people,—Lord Stafford, Lady Faulkner, &c., among the number,—and all express a desire to keep me and serve my interests. In a word, I never met more kind offers, nor have I ever witnessed a fairer prospect, to the extent it offers, of success.
“I must raise a little money to furnish a house and bring over my family; and if you would put me on the way to obtain £200 or £250, I would not sell Moatfield. Otherwise I shall do so, as I have no time to lose. My step does not admit of delay, and when I reach home I must leave for Brussels almost immediately,—the opening is such that some one must fill it at once.”
Lever set out from Portstewart in the first week of May 1837.