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.”