54 AI^EXANDER wii^son: poet-naturaust 



cutting himself loose from all that bound him to his 

 past, he too went to seek his El Dorado. The bright 

 23rd day of May, 1794, was the beginning of a dis- 

 mal, wearisome voyage which did not end until the 

 middle of July. Only an old woman and two chil- 

 dren died on the vessel before the middle of June 

 and the crew considered themselves lucky indeed; 

 then a sailor dropped overboard and was lost, and 

 two more men were drowned in making the landing. 

 It was indeed a sad trip ; only once was its gloomi- 

 ness broken, when Dr. Reynolds, who had been tried 

 and condemned by the Irish House of Lords, was 

 found on board. He treated all round to rum-grog, 

 which was drunk "to the confusion of despots, and 

 the prosperity of liberty all the world over," a senti- 

 ment which was perhaps never more really felt than 

 just at this period, and one in which Wilson was 

 ever ready to pledge deeply. 



The Swift cast anchor first off Reedy Island at 

 seven at night on July 15, and at midday of 

 the 14th, Wilson and Duncan set out on 

 foot to walk the five miles from Newcastle, 

 where they disembarked, to Wilmington, Del- 

 aware, in hopes of finding there some weav- 

 ing to do. Wilson's life in the new world was 

 not to begin very auspiciously, however, for at Wil- 

 mington he found, to his surprise, only two silk 

 looms and for himself no employment. His disap- 

 pointment was not too great for him to note with 

 sharp eyes everything of interest about him. "The 

 writer of this Biography," says George Ord, his 

 friend and collaborator, and the first of his biograph- 

 ers, "has a distinct recollection of a conversation 



