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.”