In the Statuary Hall of the National Capitol, Washington, may be seen statues of the distinguished men of the different states of the Union, placed there under authority of a resolution or act of Congress, which provided that each state could place there two figures of its choice.
The State of Illinois, by an act of the General Assembly, determined that the statue of General James Shields should be one of those selected to represent Illinois. An appropriation was accordingly made for the statue of the soldier statesman, and it now stands in the “Hall of Fame” at the Capitol, where it was formally installed with befitting and notable public ceremonies.
Certainly, by this act the State of Illinois gave to the nation and to the world unequivocal testimony of the respect and esteem in which the soldier statesman is held by the people of the state where he first won recognition, and which he served in so many and so various public capacities with fidelity and renown.
A most interesting and unique figure in the history of Illinois is that presented by the career and character of James Shields. Member of the state legislature in early days, he became subsequently auditor, judge of the Supreme Court, general in command of a brigade of Illinois volunteers in the war with Mexico, and finally United States senator. These various offices and distinctions came to him from Illinois; and these, it might reasonably be supposed, would have sufficed to crown and complete the public career of a man so favored by political fortune. But this was not the end.
Failing of re-election to the United States Senate at the expiration of his term, because of changed political conditions, Shields removed to Minnesota, then a territory, and on its subsequent admission as a state he was elected one of the senators, the other being Henry M. Rice. Having drawn lots for the respective terms, Shields drew the short term, which terminated in 1860, and, having again failed of re-election from the same cause that defeated him in Illinois—the growing ascendency of the Republican party—he once more removed to another and more distant state, California, where he was settled at the outbreak of the Civil War. His sympathies and his military experience led him to offer his services to President Lincoln, who promptly commissioned Shields as brigadier general, and he was assigned to service in General Banks’ corps, then operating in West Virginia.
While in detached command he won the celebrated victory over the hitherto invincible Stonewall Jackson. Shortly after this he was nominated by the President as major general, but the Senate refused to confirm the nomination, being influenced partly, no doubt, by political considerations—Democrats were not at the time in great favor—and partly, also, no doubt, from misrepresentations regarding General Shields’ conduct in relation to a defeat suffered by a portion of his command at Port Republic. This defeat, as was demonstrated later, was due to the disregard of Shields’ orders; at all events, the hostile action of the Senate caused his withdrawal from the army. He resigned his commission and returned to California.
Shortly again his restless spirit stirred him to another change, and this time he sought a home in Missouri, acquiring a farm near Carrollton in that state. Here in 1877 political fortune once more opened to him the doors of the United States Senate. He was elected to fill an unexpired term, so that he now had the unique distinction of having been chosen to represent three different states of the Union—at, of course, different periods of time. This fact, unexampled, I believe, in his history of the Senate, excited wondering comment at the time, and may justify an inquiry into the circumstances and character of the man who was able to win for himself this remarkable degree of public favor from so many different states.
Born in the County Tyrone, Ireland, in 1806, James Shields came of a fighting stock. His progenitors had fought at the Boyne and Aughrim for the Stuart king and several had followed Sarsfield after the surrender of Limerick, to serve under the banners of King Louis on the continent. So it was that young Shields inherited the warlike tastes and the “rebel” sympathies common to his countrymen. The story of his boyhood shows that he early manifested a taste for military pursuits. He was the drill-master of his boyish companions at school, and headed them in many juvenile skirmishes and exploits.
He never gained the opportunity and advantages of a college or university education, but he made up for this by the industrious and persevering use of his opportunities in later life, so that he came to be recognized as an excellent classical scholar and even linguist.
His youthful attention was early drawn toward America—as indeed, is the case with nearly all Irish boys. In the instance of young Shields he was spurred to emigrate by the counsels of an uncle who had seen service in the revolutionary war, and who had written to the mother telling her that if James did not leave the country he would surely be shot or hung as a rebel! In 1823, when 17 years of age, James Shields set out for America. He first landed at Quebec. The uncle who had counseled his leaving Ireland and from whom he naturally expected aid and counsel, was dead, and he was thus left to his own scanty resources. He made his way to the States, and pushed westward to Illinois, until he reached Kaskaskia, then the capital of the state, and it was there he commenced his career, first as a school teacher, employing his leisure hours in reading law. That he made good use of his time, and had the knack of making friends, may be judged by his early election as a member of the legislature.
Shields had been admitted to the bar in 1832 and was elected to the legislature in 1836. In 1841 he was elected auditor and in 1843 he was elected judge of the Supreme Court of Illinois—pretty rapid promotion for the young Irishman.
He quickly entered the arena of national renown. President Polk in 1845 appointed Shields commissioner of the general land office in Washington, and when the war with Mexico was declared Shields offered his services and was appointed brigadier general of volunteers—this in 1846. His military career in the campaign in Mexico I scarcely need recall. It is to be found in the history of that war and in the official reports of the chiefs of the army. His dash and bravery as well as his signal military capacity were shown in every engagement from Cerro Gordo to Chapultepec and the City of Mexico.
He was reported by General Scott in dispatches as fatally wounded at Cerro Gordo, a ball having passed “clean through” his body. Happily the skill and dexterity of a Mexican surgeon—a prisoner—saved him. Some accounts say this surgeon was an Irishman who had seen service in the French army. This brings to mind an incident in the general’s later life. During a visit to Chicago on a lecturing tour I introduced the general to some of the “sights,” among other places to the board of trade, of which I was then a member. When the fact became whispered about that General Shields was on the floor the “pits” were quickly deserted, the operators evidently being eager to testify their respect or gratify their curiosity. As he stood acknowledging the salutations of the throng around him, a member of the board shook hands with him, saying: “General, do you remember me?” The general evidently did not and said so.
“Don’t you remember the soldier who tore off a piece of his shirt to stanch the blood from your wound when you lay on the field of Cerro Gordo?”
Sure enough, it was the very man! He, too, was a veteran of the Mexican war. I regret that I cannot now recall his name, which I heard at the time. Of course, there was a cordial reception and hand-shake between the two old soldiers.
On his return from Mexico at the close of the war, Shields was brevetted major general, and was nominated by the president governor of the territory of Oregon. This appointment Shields declined. In 1849 he was elected United States senator from Illinois, as associate to Senator Stephen A. Douglas.
There was a question raised in the Senate as to the regularity of Shields’ election. My impression is—I have not the data before me as I write—that the irregularity was on the issue of citizenship; at all events, the legislature cured the defect by electing Shields over again.
According to the record, it was Shields who reported the bill making a grant of lands to aid in the construction of the Illinois Central Railroad, the credit of which is usually given to Senator Douglas who was no doubt also a warm champion of the measure. It was Shields who likewise introduced and pressed the passage of a bill granting “bounty lands” to the soldiers and sailors who had served in the war with Mexico. When England was threatening with her naval forces the little republic of San Salvador on some pretext, Senator Shields promptly introduced a resolution on the subject, invoking the authority of the Monroe doctrine.
Bills to aid other railroad projects in Illinois were favorably reported by him. At that time the West was clamoring for railroads, which were indispensable to its development. In these days the country seems to forget how much of its progress and prosperity has been due to the much maligned railroads. Space will not admit of even a summary of the important public measures that Shields had part in framing. The files of the Congressional Record bear testimony to his unceasing industry during his senatorial career. It is worthy of note that Shields was consistently opposed to the extension of slavery and his record shows it, although in this regard he was not always in harmony with his party.
The State of Illinois, by vote of the legislature, presented to General Shields a costly sword in recognition of his gallant services on the battlefields of Mexico. The State of South Carolina in like manner voted him a sword, “in testimony of her admiration of his gallantry in the Mexican war, and as a tribute of gratitude for his parental attention to the Palmetto regiment.” This regiment was in Shields’ brigade in several engagements.
At the expiration of his term in the Senate he failed to secure a re-election, Lyman Trumbull being chosen to succeed him. This result was due to dissensions in the party ranks in consequence of the slavery issue, and to the growing power of the incipient Republican party.
Shortly after this Shields removed to Minnesota, gathering about his new home the nucleus of an Irish colony which has since become the populous and prosperous settlement known as “Shieldsville.” In fact, this was the beginning of the colonization movement in that state to which Archbishop Ireland afterward lent his powerful aid.
It was during Shields’ sojourn in Minnesota that the overture was made to him to take the command of the papal army. This was at the time when the revolutionary movement in Italy threatened the invasion and integrity of the papal states during the reign of Pius IX. Shields declined to accept. I had the details of the overture from the general’s own lips at a late period of his life.
When Minnesota was admitted as a state in 1858 Shields was chosen one of the two senators, his colleague being Henry M. Rice. Lots being drawn to determine the respective terms, the short one—two years—fell to Shields. At the end, as in Illinois, and from like cause, he failed of re-election, and soon he was again on the wing—this time for California.
The general opened a law office in San Francisco, and it was there he married. Soon the tumult and agitation of the secession movement, followed by the call for volunteers, stirred his patriotic spirit and martial ardor. He offered his services to President Lincoln, who commissioned him as brigadier general, assigned to General Banks’ corps in the army of West Virginia.
The veteran was quickly in the field of operations, soon at the head of a division. It was while in this command he encountered the renowned Stonewall Jackson, inflicting on this hitherto invincible confederate general a defeat which sent him “whirling up the valley.” The tidings of this remarkable victory caused great rejoicing throughout the North and gained great applause and commendations for General Shields. The army of Virginia up to this time had suffered a succession of disasters. The government was in a dilemma.
The command of the Army of the Potomac was at this juncture offered to General Shields. I make this statement on the authority of General Shields himself. Following his victory at Winchester, he said, a member of the cabinet arrived in his camp and on the part of the President proposed to him the command of the Army of the Potomac. The reasons suggested for this tender appeared to be, as I recall them, the necessity for a change of leaders owing to previous ill success; Shields’ established capacity for high command, as shown by his career in Mexico, his recent campaign and the enthusiasm and confidence his appointment would arouse in the ranks of the army, but the controlling motive appeared to be a political consideration—that Shields, because of his foreign birth, could not in the event of his success become a political factor or rival in the field of national politics—that is to say, in no event would it be possible to make of Shields a candidate for the presidency.
The suggestion appears to have been given to Shields in this same interview that the President was then contemplating and preparing to issue the emancipation proclamation. This latter determined Shields’ decision. He rejected the proposal made to him. This, in substance, is my recollection of the statement made by the general during one of his visits to Chicago late in the 70’s. Others besides the writer heard General Shields make this statement at the time.
The President sent Shields’ name to the Senate for confirmation as major general, and as the appointment was not ratified by that body Shields resigned and withdrew from the army. Likely this may have been partly in protest against the threatened emancipation policy. At all events, Shields returned to California. From there he shortly afterward removed to Missouri, settling on a farm near Carrollton in that state and devoting himself to the labors and duties of farm life. In 1877 he was elected member of the general assembly of Missouri, and the same year appointed adjutant general of the state militia. The death of Senator Bogg the next year caused a vacancy in the representation of Missouri in the United States Senate, and General Shields was appointed, thus giving him the distinction of having served in the United States Senate from three different states.
The term was short, and with its termination may be said ended General Shields’ public service as a legislator and statesman. He nevertheless continued an interesting figure before the public, appearing on many occasions in different cities as a lecturer and for addresses on various subjects of general interest. It was while engaged in a lecturing tour that the end came. He died suddenly while visiting a convent in Ottumwa, Iowa, June 1, 1879.
Few men in public life have filled so many and so various offices and employments. He had been school teacher, lawyer, legislator, jurist, state auditor, land commissioner, general in the Mexican and Civil wars, United States senator, adjutant general, farmer and lecturer. He might have been governor of Oregon, commander of the papal army and of the army of the Potomac (possibly), and he could have led the Fenians in their foolish raid on Canada had not his good common sense rejected the offer and condemned the project.
General Shields was warm and earnest in his Irish sympathies, and he showed this on many public occasions. It is to his honor that he lived and died a poor man. He never profited or sought to profit by the multiplied opportunities for personal gain which must have been open to him during his public career. In his old age, after all his notable services, he was receiving a pension of only $34 per month, and when he died all that he left his family was the farm, the swords voted to him by Illinois and South Carolina—and an untarnished name.
Illinois has since honored the memory of her one-time senator and general by causing his statue to be placed in the National Capitol. This was due largely to the active efforts and enthusiasm of a well-known Chicago attorney, William H. Condon, since dead, who also published the life of General James Shields.
The signal and important services of the French-Irish regiments in the American revolutionary war have scarcely ever found adequate recognition and acknowledgement at the hands of historical writers. Indeed, the same may be said of the great part France had in that war.
Of course, every school boy has read of the exploits of the youthful and enthusiastic Lafayette, and knows that Rochambeau with his army and De Grasse with his fleet were conspicuous in bringing about the surrender of Cornwallis and his forces at Yorktown. Only by the powerful co-operation of the French army and navy at the siege was the crowning victory of the war achieved, and that victory forced from the English king and his ministers the recognition of American independence. All this is well known, but the magnitude of the French aid all through the war is less familiar to the general reader.
HON. HENRY GROVES CONNOR,
of Raleigh, N. C.
An Eminent Jurist and Learned Historian.
Member of the Society.
The army and navy registers in the French archives show that sixty-three ships of war, mounting 3,668 guns, manned by 32,600 officers and seamen, were employed in the naval operations on the American seaboard, and upward of 12,000 land forces. The financial cost to France of the fleets and armies and the loans and gifts in money to the colonies have been computed by a competent authority at $50,000,000.
My present design in this sketch is to emphasize the part the Irish brigades in the French army had in the American war. I do not need to recall to mind the historic renown of the Irish Brigade.
Almost every battlefield in Europe during the seventeenth century was flamed by their valor and crimsoned with their blood. In France, in Italy, in Spain and in the Low Countries these exiled soldiers fought with such furious impetuosity that even the bitterest enemies of their race were forced to pay them the reluctant tribute of their admiration.
King George II. is said to have exclaimed after witnessing the bravery of the Irish brigade at the battle of Dettingen: “Cursed be the laws that deprive me of such subjects.”
When the colonies had declared their independence of Great Britain and the aid of France was eagerly invoked the Irish troops in the French army pressed their request on the war office in Paris that they should be sent to America to fight the British, who were, they declared, their hereditary enemies. A copy of the French original of this document may be seen in the Royal Irish Academy, Dublin. In 1779 several Irish regiments were embarked in the French fleets for service against the English forces in the West Indies and on the American coast. Included in this contingent were the regiments of Dillon, Walsh, Berwick and Fermoy. These regiments being so designated in compliment to the colonel in command as the “Colonel Proprietaire.” In the fleet of the Count d’Estaing there was carried a considerable land force—mostly of the Irish brigade. Count Dillon was second in command to the admiral and at the siege of Savannah, then held by the British, he led his own regiment in the attack on the defenses.
There was, also, on the land side, an American co-operating force commanded by General Lincoln. The assault ended disastrously for both the French and Americans with severe loss in killed and wounded. Upward of 1,200 of the assaulting columns fell in the space of fifty minutes; of these 821 were of the French forces and the rest of the American. The utmost bravery was shown, both in the attack and in the defense, but the storming column, led by Count d’Estaing and Dillon, could not withstand the terrific fire of the batteries and were forced to abandon the assault.
D’Estaing was wounded and carried off the field. The gallant Pole, Count Pulaski, who served with the American forces, was killed. He was in command of a small force of regular cavalry of lancers. Among the list of the killed and wounded of the French attacking column I find the names of Brow, major in Dillon’s regiment; Moran and O’Neill, captains; Tauffe, lieutenant, and many other familiar Irish names; officers and subofficers of the brigade. The names of the rank and file are not given, but it is not difficult to surmise what must have been the gallantry of the assault when we see the heavy list of the killed and wounded.
The particulars of the memorable attack on Savannah are given with great fullness in a publication issued many years ago by the Georgia Historical Society, compiled from original sources. The gallantry of Sergeant Jasper, an Irishman, at the siege and his heroic death on the battlements while attempting to raise thereon the flag of his regiment, has immortalized his name and his bravery. A statue of Jasper in one of the public squares of Savannah fittingly commemorates the deed and memory of the gallant patriot.
Following the abandonment of the siege the French fleet withdrew and undertook the reduction of several of the English possessions in the West Indies. It is not my purpose to follow the subsequent career and fortunes of the fleet and forces under d’Estaing except to remark that the diversion made by these attacks on the islands under the British flag were naturally important aids to the cause of the colonies, since the English forces employed in their defense would otherwise have been in service, doubtless, in the attempt to subdue the colonies.
I am tempted to relate another incident in Count Dillon’s career of glory in the expeditions that followed the failure at Savannah. He had part in the attempts made by the French fleet and forces on several of the English possessions, notably in the attack made on the Island of St. Eustache.
The frigates being unable to approach sufficiently near to the fortifications to land aid, Dillon, with only 377 men, landed and in person led the assault. The Irish were at the head of the column, and such was the impetuosity of the attacking force that 840 regular troops of the English army laid down their arms and were made prisoners of war by less than half their number! Later on the Dillon regiment was employed in the siege of the important fortress and Island of St. Christopher, and the place was finally carried, Count Dillon remaining in command of the island as governor.
After the treaty of peace with France and the colonies, the island, under the terms of the treaty, was yielded back to Great Britain. Shortly afterward Dillon paid a visit to London in the train of the French embassy.
He was presented at the court and, having paid his respects to the king, George III., the lord chancellor, Loughborough, who was in attendance, crossed over to Dillon and said to him, after some preliminary compliments: “I must thank you for the equity and fairness of your decisions given whilst you were acting as governor of the island. My court has had occasion to pass on some of the cases you decided and we found no occasion to dissent from your judgments.”
Sad to say, this gallant soldier met his death on the scaffold, at the hands of the ruffians who were in the ascendance during the French revolution, as did so many thousands of the noblest and best of French men and women.
At the last moment, as he stood at the foot of the fatal guillotine, a lady who preceded him and who, like Dillon, was to meet her doom by the order of the same furies, turned to the count, saying: “Would you not oblige me by going first?”
“Certainly, madam,” was the answer of the chivalric Irishman, and ascending before the lady, in a moment the horrible instrument had ended the career of the heroic Count Arthur Dillon.
A namesake, Colonel Theobald Dillon, who had been with Rochambeau at Yorktown, was another of the victims of the French Revolution, under circumstances even more revolting. But I must stay my pen on this subject.
The erection of the monument or statue of Lafayette in Paris a few years back, as a token and testimony of America’s gratitude to France, has since then been supplemented by the installation of a fine statue of Rochambeau in Washington—a like tribute to the value and importance of the aid given by France in the critical period of the Revolutionary War.
The inauguration of the Rochambeau statue, which is one of the finest and most impressive in the nation’s capital, was made the occasion of ceremonies and exercises of the highest dignity and importance. Of course, these were reported with great fullness at the time, and I have no need to dwell on the details now.
The government, by the action of Congress, has since published a large volume in which is given, I may say, not only a full narrative of all the proceedings in connection with the statue, but also a comprehensive story of French aid and services in the war for colonial independence.
The volume includes the “roster” of the French naval and military forces. The Irish regiments to which I have referred, of course, are given due notice, like the others; that is to say, the name of the regiment, together with the list of the chief officers, etc. Count Dillon’s regiment was present at the surrender of Cornwallis and the British army at Yorktown. The count himself was not there, being occupied at his post as governor of the island already referred to. His cousin, Colonel Theobald Dillon, was there, and many other French-Irish officers of the brigade.
It will be of interest to many to learn that efforts have been made to obtain from the French war office a full list of the officers and soldiers of the Irish brigades who served in the war of the American revolution. I am happy to state that a volume will soon be issued by the French government containing these names. The search for the necessary data was instituted at the request of M. Jusserand, the learned and accomplished French ambassador at Washington.
I trust I am not betraying a secret in stating that the initiative in the task of Irish historic interest has been due to Archbishop Ireland, who was himself a conspicuous figure in the ceremonies attending the celebration for Lafayette in Paris, and in the Rochambeau exercises at Washington and New York.
The records of Yale College bear testimony to the beneficence and liberality of an Irish bishop who, early in the eighteenth century, gave proof of his zeal for learning by bestowing on that institution, then lately founded—its charter is dated 1701—the dwelling house and farm in Rhode Island which he had purchased and occupied during his strange visit and sojourn in America.
The bishop likewise gave to the college on his departure the best and largest collection of books—nearly one thousand volumes—that had ever up to that time been brought over. The catalogue, or list of these works, is preserved in the Yale College library. Harvard is likewise indebted to the same benefactor for a collection of textbooks.
Bishop George Berkeley was a remarkable character in his day. An account of his career cannot but possess a certain interest for the general reader. He was the friend and associate of many of the literary celebrities of the time, Dean Swift, Addison and Steele, who esteemed his friendship and appreciated his amiable character and qualities.
Berkeley was born in the County Kilkenny, Ireland, the same year that James II. succeeded to the British crown. His early education was acquired in the same school in Kilkenny which Dean Swift had attended, and his subsequent studies were pursued at Trinity College, Dublin. It was said of him while at college that he was regarded by some of his fellow students as the greatest dunce in the institution, while others thought him a prodigy of learning and goodness, but all agreed that he was full of simplicity and enthusiasm—indeed, these latter characteristics remained with him through life. The results of his application to study is shown by his college record. He was elected “scholar” in 1702, a B. A. in 1704, and obtained his master’s degree in 1707, and the same year was admitted to a fellowship. The drift of his mind and of his studies was shown in the formation of a college society “to promote investigations in the new philosophy of Boyle, Newton and Locke,” a subject upon which he wrote many papers.
Before leaving college to enter on his career in London, Berkeley had already acquired some reputation as a writer on philosophical subjects. It was Dean Swift who introduced his fellow countryman to the circles of influence in the British capital. In the “Journal to Stella,” the dean jots down under date of April 12, 1713: “I went to court today on purpose to present Mr. Berkeley, one of our fellows of Trinity College. This Mr. Berkeley is a very ingenious man and great philosopher, and I have mentioned him to all the ministers, and have given them some of his writings, and I will favor him as much as I can. This, I think, I am bound to—in honor and conscience to use all my little credit toward helping forward men of worth in the world.”
Swift introduced Berkeley to the Earl of Peterborough, then one of the most extraordinary characters in Europe. He had amazed the country a few years before by his wonderful achievements in Spain, during the war of the succession. Soldier, scholar and diplomatist, this singular man was eccentric in all his movements and actions—indeed, his career and character is still a favorite study and an enigma for the historian and biographer. The introduction obtained for Berkeley, the post of the chaplain and secretary to Peterborough, who had been appointed ambassador to the King of Sicily. It was little use the eccentric earl had for a chaplain, since he was himself a well-known skeptic and freethinker!
The post to which he had been appointed gave Berkeley the opportunity of making acquaintance with the continent—he had taken “orders” before Trinity College—and he now saw France and Italy for the first time. His letters describing his experience and observations in these countries are exceedingly interesting, but my limits will not admit of quotations. The death of Queen Anne during his sojourn abroad and the accession of George I. caused a change in his prospects and position. Peterborough was recalled by the new administration, and consequently Berkeley returned to England in August, 1714.
The change of administration in England blighted for a time Berkeley’s prospects of preferment. His friend, Dean Swift, was no longer in the ascendant, and his late patron, the Earl of Peterborough, had been deprived of place and influence. He was, nevertheless, a welcome guest and visitor in literary circles and in general society. He possessed a charm of address and manners that won friends to him on all sides. He shortly had the opportunity again to revisit the continent—this time as companion and tutor to the son of Sir George Ashe. While in Paris he had an interview and carried on a discussion with the celebrated Malebranche on points of philosophy and metaphysics which, it is said, became so animated and exciting that the Frenchman brought on himself a violent disorder which prostrated him and resulted in his death within a few days.
After an absence this time of five years Berkeley returned to England in 1720. He found the country in turmoil over the collapse of the South Sea bubble. The speculative mania which had spread widely in England led as usual to an era of extravagance and corruption. The disorders of society consequent on these conditions was general. Berkeley gave vent to his feelings on the situation by an essay that attracted wide attention, in which he sought to point out a remedy for the prevailing evils.
His suggestions may be briefly quoted as bearing equally on certain conditions not altogether unfamiliar to us in the United States. He argued that the persons who compose society must become individually industrious, frugal, public-spirited and religious. Sumptuary laws, he thought, might do something toward mitigating existing distress, and public amusements might be regulated, and masquerades prohibited. The drama, too, should be reformed. But the prime necessity was that sensuality must give way to religious love and reverence. “Let us be industrious, frugal and religious, if we are to be saved at all,” was his counsel.
In 1721 he returned to Ireland, from which he had been so long absent. He had retained all along his post in Trinity College, and was now shortly installed as chaplain to the Duke of Trafton, the viceroy.
There occurred in 1723 a curious and romantic incident in which Swift was concerned, or rather “Vanessa”—one of the two unhappy women whose passion for and devotion to the cynical dean have become familiar to all readers. Vanessa, like Stella, the other victim of unrequited affection, followed the dean to Dublin, and there learned of Swift’s connection with Stella—to whom he had been secretly married. Heart-crushed by the revelation, she revoked a will she had made in favor of the man she loved, and substituted Berkeley as the beneficiary and legatee. This is all the more curious and unaccountable as Vanessa (Esther Vanhumrigh) seems to have met Berkeley but once, and that only by chance. At all events he was the gainer by some 4,000 pounds.
Fortune had begun to favor him. He was appointed dean of Derry (Londonderry), an important ecclesiastical dignity in the Irish church, said to be worth £1,100 a year. While in possession of this lucrative position the project of the great university in the new world seems to have taken root in his mind, and quickly became a passionate enthusiasm. This is the project which links Berkeley’s name with America—indeed it was to recall his romantic initiative and devotion to this early scheme for higher education that I venture on this sketch.
Swift says the design had been long in Berkeley’s mind. His generous aim involved the surrender of his opulent position as dean, and the employment of his means, including the Vanessa legacy, in promoting this project, on which he had evidently set his heart, and it also necessitated other sacrifices as we shall see. Of course, it was not possible for him unaided to carry out or even to begin his undertaking. He relied on obtaining aid from sympathizers, and an indispensable charter from the king, George I.
It is a curious fact that he was indebted to a Catholic—the Abbe Gualteri, whom he had met in Italy—for the opportunity of making his application to the king under favorable conditions. The abbe was a distinguished Venetian scientist, who had the ear of court circles, and he interested himself warmly in Berkeley’s behalf, with the result that a charter was granted in June, 1725, for a college in the Island of Bermuda, and constituting “Dr. Berkeley, Dean of Londonderry, principal of said college.”
Berkeley’s enthusiasm and persuasive eloquence enlisted promise of support in other powerful quarters. The prime minister, Sir Robert Walpole, promised a grant of £20,000; the private subscriptions seem to have aggregated about £5,000.
All this took time and extensive preparation. The doctor or dean had secured the co-operation of several of the Trinity College fellows, who agreed to go out with him, and there was to be another addition to the party who was to intimately share the principal’s life and fortunes thenceforth—Mrs. Berkeley!
He had married during the progress of his negotiations for the university scheme, a daughter of the speaker of the Irish house of commons. The marriage took place August 1, 1728. It was said of Mrs. Berkeley that “she shared his fortune when he was about to engage in one of the most romantic moral movements of modern times, and when, in love with an ideal academic life in the Bermudas, he prepared to surrender preferment and social position at home in order to devote the remainder of his life to the great continent of the West.”
In the fullest confidence that he would be able to carry out successfully his favorite designs, Berkeley, with his wife and college companions, set sail for the sunny isle in the golden West, of which he had so long dreamed. He was then in his forty-fourth year. The voyage occupied four months, and the landing was made at Newport, R. I., where he had planned to sojourn until he should receive from England the promised grant from the government. It was necessary also that the good will and practical interest of the New England colonies should be enlisted in his efforts.
The population of Newport at this time is said to have been curiously cosmopolitan. As religious freedom prevailed there, thanks to the Quaker, Roger Williams, and was unknown in the other New England colonies, religious refugees found an asylum, as they did in the Catholic colony of Maryland under Lord Baltimore. The merchants of Newport appear to have been active and successful in the slave trade, so we shall be less surprised at the statement that Berkeley purchased several for service on the farm which he speedily acquired and settled on for the time being.
Berkeley was quite in demand for sermons. He preached in Trinity Church, Newport, three days after his arrival, and many times afterward. The Rhode Island aristocracy of those days maintained, according to accounts, a good deal of the style and manner of life of the English gentry, and we can read of fox hunting, and races, and festivities of various kinds as commonly indulged in. The delays reported from London, in carrying out the promises of aid gave Berkeley many anxious hours in his new world home. He found it expedient to build a house on the farm in the interior, at Whitehall, which he continued to occupy with his family until he sailed back to England. His house became the resort of the ministers and gentry of Rhode Island, who delighted in the society and conversation of the accomplished Irish dean.
Nearly three years passed in waiting and in expectation of the promised means which never materialized, beyond the sum of private subscriptions—which he afterward scrupulously returned. Meantime two children were born to him; one of these, a girl, died and was buried in Trinity churchyard, Newport. Three of Berkeley’s slaves, according to the records of the same church—“Philip Berkeley, Anthony Berkeley and Agnes Berkeley, negroes, received into the church, June 11, 1731.”
All his plans for the utopia he had nourished in his imagination faded utterly when authoritative news from London convinced Berkeley that the project must be abandoned. The grant of £20,000 assured by Walpole, and other important concessions, could not be realized. The prime minister had given up the project, and employed the proposed grant and concessions for other purposes. So in the fall of 1731 the disappointed philanthropist bade farewell to the new world and sailed homeward.
Berkeley’s subsequent career must be briefly told. On his return to London he wrote a great deal on his favorite philosophical subjects. In 1734 he was appointed bishop of Cloyne, in Ireland, and there he spent the next eighteen years of his life. He gave much attention to the social condition of Ireland, attended to his episcopal duties and occasionally occupied his seat in the Irish house of lords. His benevolence to the poor in the dark days of famine and disease was said to be boundless. He certainly won the esteem and gratitude of the Catholics of Ireland by his liberality and his freedom from the spirit of cant and proselytizing, then unhappily widespread in that unfortunate country. His advocacy of tar water as a universal specific for the cure of disease will be remembered as an example of his amiable philanthropic enthusiasms. He publishes a poem in praise of his panacea. He was offered further promotion in the Irish church—even the primacy; but he put these allurements aside and refused. “For doing good to the world,” he declared, “I may upon the whole do as much in a lower station.”
In 1752 he decided to resign his bishopric and seek retirement at Oxford. The unusual proposal excited the curiosity of the King, George II., who declared, when the application was made to him, that Berkeley might live where he pleased but that he should die a bishop! So he was permitted to retire from his see, still retaining his Episcopal rank.
He did not long enjoy the change. He died in Oxford the 14th of January, 1753, and was buried in the university chapel of Christ Church. His widow survived him thirty-three years, dying in her 86th year. A son and a daughter were living at the time of his death. In his will he provided among other items—“that the expense of my funeral do not exceed £20, and that as much more be given to the poor of the parish where I die.” He left a very small estate. The well-known lines of his poem, in which he sought to depict the prospects of his utopian project, may fitly close this sketch of the amiable and benevolent Irish dean and bishop: