LAST LABORS.
FOR over two years, since leaving his native country, Perry had been
under a constant burden of responsibility incurred in anxiety to achieve
the grand object of his mission. His close attention to details, the
unexpected annoyances in a sub-tropical climate, and the long strain
upon his nerves had begun to wear upon a robust frame. He now looked
eagerly for his successor, and to the rest of home. To his joy he found
at Hong Kong orders permitting him to return either in the
_Mississippi_, or in the British mail steamer by way of India. He chose
the latter.
The store-ships, _Supply_ and _Lexington_, were ordered homeward by way
of the Cape of Good Hope and the _Susquehanna_ and _Mississippi_ for New
York by way of Shimoda, Honolulu and Rio [de] Janeiro. The _Mississippi_
was to tow the _Southampton_, which contained coal for the two steamers.
The Commodore awaited only the arrival of the _Macedonian_ from Manilla,
whither she had gone to return the waifs picked up at sea, to turn over
his command to Captain Abbot.
Before permitting Perry to leave for home, the American commercial
residents in China gave the Commodore an expression of their estimate of
his character as a man, and their appreciation of his services as a
diplomatist to their country. This took the form of a banquet, with an
address of unusual merit by Gideon Nye, and the presentation of an
elaborate candelabrum made by Chinese jewelers in crystal and sycee
silver. In return, Perry presented to Mr. Nye a cane made of gun
carriages from San Juan d’Ulloa. Owing to war and the local troubles,
the work of art did not reach New York until December 1858.[39]
On the morning of September 11th, at Hong Kong, the _Mississippi_ and
_Macedonian_ fired parting salutes. The yards and rigging were manned by
the sailors who gave three hearty cheers, and the British mail steamer,
_Hindostan_, moved off bearing the diplomatist and his flag-lieutenant
homeward.
From England Perry crossed to the continent, and at Hague, spent several
delightful days at the house of his son-in-law, the American Minister,
the Hon. August Belmont. With Mrs. Belmont, the Commodore’s daughter
Caroline, were then visiting Mrs. Perry and Miss Perry, the Commodore’s
wife and youngest daughter. Thence returning to Liverpool on Christmas
day, he paid a visit to the American consul at Liverpool, one Nathaniel
Hawthorne, who has thus recorded his impression of his visitor:—[40]
“Commodore P—— called to see me this morning—a brisk,
gentlemanly, off-hand, but not rough, unaffected and sensible
man, looking not so elderly as he might, on account of a very
well made wig.
“He is now on a return from a cruise to the East Indian seas and
goes home by the _Baltic_ with a prospect of being very well
received on account of his treaty with Japan. I seldom meet with
a man who puts himself more immediately on conversable terms
than the Commodore. He soon introduced his particular business
with me,—it being to inquire whether I could recommend some
suitable person to prepare his notes and materials for the
publication of an account of his voyage. He was good enough to
say that he had fixed upon me, in his own mind, for this office;
but that my public duties would, of course, prevent me from
engaging in it. I spoke of —— ——, and one or two others but
he seemed to have some acquaintance with the literature of the
day, and did not grasp very cordially at any name that I could
think of; nor indeed could I recommend any one with full
confidence. It would be a very desirable task for a young
literary man, or for that matter for an old one; for the world
can scarcely have in reserve a less hackneyed theme than Japan.”
The master of English style, the literary American Puritan, so
thoroughly at home in spirit-land and in analysis of conscience, was not
expert in judging visible things. His mistake in describing the material
on Perry’s scalp was amusing though natural. Not a few persons supposed
that the Commodore wore a wig, yet the only head-ornament made use of by
him was that given him by the Almighty, and still duplicated in his
children. His handsome and luxuriant hair grew well forward on his
forehead.
Perry, though exultant of his success, was uncertain of his political
reception. There were dangers in a change of administration. The Japan
expedition was a Whig measure, while the party now in power was
Democratic. The English newspapers seemed to entertain a high opinion of
the Commodore’s ability, and very flattering were some of their accounts
of the expedition and the editorials concerning its leader. Not able to
understand our Republican institutions, one of them wondered, with a
“blush of shame,” “Why the government does nothing for Perry or Scott.”
Others may wonder too.
Had a Whig administration been in power, it is doubtful whether Perry
would have received any reward further than the thanks of the Navy
Department, the honor of the publication of his journal, and a few
copies of his own book. Looking back now at Pierce’s barren
administration, the one bright spot in it seems to be the opening of
Japan to diplomatic intercourse. It was a time of intense political
excitement. The Kansas troubles, the World’s Fair in New York, and the
beginning of surveys for the Union Pacific Railroad helped to turn
attention from foreign matters. Nevertheless, the Senate at the opening
of its session December 6th, called for the correspondence relating to
the Japan Expedition. President Pierce delayed action until after an
interview with Perry, and on January 30th, 1855, transmitted the report.
The Commodore had arrived home on the 12th, eighteen days before, after
an absence of two years and two months. The official documents were
published in an octavo volume of 195 pages.
The _Mississippi_ left Hong Kong the next morning after the Commodore’s
departure, a few hours after that of the United States brig, _Porpoise_
(which was never heard of again), on the 21st of September, entered
Shimoda harbor finding there the _Susquehanna_ and _Southampton_. The
_Susquehanna_ left on the 24th, and the _Mississippi_ on the 1st of
October, the latter completing her journey around the globe on the 23d
of April, 1855. On the next day, the Commodore repairing to the Brooklyn
Navy Yard, formally hauled down his flag, and thus consummated the final
act in the story of the United States Expedition to Japan. He now set
himself to work in a hired room in Washington to tell that story in
manuscript. Aided by Lieutenants Maury and Bent, secretaries, artists,
printers, and a Japanese lad as attendant, it took shape in the
sumptuous publication of three richly illustrated folio volumes.
Though receiving no marked token of respect from the government, yet
other honors social and substantial, were not wanting. By the city of
New York he was presented with a set of silver plate. The merchants of
Boston had a medal struck in his honor. The original was presented to
him in gold[41] the subscribers receiving copies in silver and bronze.
From the city of Newport, his native place, he was tendered a reception
by the municipal authorities.
Little Rhode Island, so justly proud of her many eminent sons, was not
unmindful that the Perrys were of her own soil. She accordingly summoned
Matthew Calbraith Perry to receive at the hands of her chief magistrate,
and in presence of her legislature, a token of her regard in the form of
a solid silver salver weighing three hundred and nineteen ounces,
suitably chased and inscribed. The resolutions of the legislature
ordering the token were passed February 25th 1855.
An open air ceremony or presentation was decided upon and took place at
5 o’clock in the afternoon of June 15th upon the balcony in front of the
old State House, the legislators occupying the room within. In response
to the governor’s address Perry, deeply moved, spoke as follows:—
“It was in my earliest boyhood, before the introduction of
steamboats or railroads, that I often watched upon the shore for
the first glimpse of the gaily decorated packet-sloop, that in
those days usually brought the governor from Providence to this
town, and witnessed with childlike delight, in sight of this
very edifice, the pomp, parade and festivities of ‘Election
Day.’ Since then I have traversed almost every part of the globe
in the prosecution of the duties of a profession of which I am
justly proud, and now, after a lapse of nearly half a century,
when declining in life, to be called by the representatives of
my native state back to these hallowed precincts, here to
receive from the lips of its Chief Magistrate the commendation
of my fellow-citizens, is an honor I little expected when as a
boy midshipman, forty-six years ago, I first embarked upon an
element, then and always the most congenial to my aspirations
for honorable emprise.”
[Illustration: SILVER SALVER IN POSSESSION OF COMMODORE PERRY’S DAUGHTER,
MRS. AUGUST BELMONT.]
Cherishing a keen remembrance and love of his boyhood’s home, he
resolved to visit it, and also the ancestral farm and cemetery at South
Kingston. In a call made upon one of his earliest friends he stated that
his object was to purchase the Perry homestead, which he said would
never have gone out of the family if he had not been at sea. He wished
to erect a monument to his grandfather, Freeman Perry.
While thus on his native heather, the burly Commodore would visit also
Tower Hill where his father once lived, and his youngest sister, Mrs.
Jane Butler of South Carolina, was born. When offered a guide he said he
thought he knew the way better than his guide. Every foot, indeed, was
familiar ground. Miss Oprah Rose, in writing, March 15th 1883, of this
visit, says further: “I had never seen the Commodore before, but had
seen his younger brother and sister. His hair, I noticed, was handsome
and grew well on his forehead. His eyes indicated thought, and, as he
turned them rather slowly, seemed to take in or comprehend what he saw;
in manner he was easy and natural. As he walked away, I saw that he
expressed character in the manner he carried his shoulders. It was a
military air. He looked as if he expected to do his duty even if he made
sacrifices.”
Resuming his literary tasks during the months of June and July, between
artists and engravers, he collected the illustrative matter for the text
of his first volume. This, with the first part of the manuscript
amounting to one hundred and fifty-nine pages, he sent to the printer on
the 7th of August. He then hied away to Saratoga to forget the novel
cares of authorship in drinking at the famed health-fountains and
inhaling the air of the Kayaderosseras hills. He found much change and
some improvement. The hostelry of the old Revolutionary soldier, Jacobus
Barhyte, where all the famous people gathered to enjoy the host’s famous
fish dinners, and in whose groves Poe elaborated his poem of _The
Raven_, was gone, along with the well stocked preserves; but in grander
hotels and on ampler porches, the gay throng chatted and enjoyed life.
The Commodore after a ten day’s stay returned to New York, April 27.
When his first volume was out, Perry enjoyed the author’s genuine
delight of sending autograph presentation copies of his book to personal
friends and those most interested in the Japan enterprise. Among several
autographs letters of acknowledgement, is one from Irving in which he
says:—
“You have gained for yourself a lasting name and have won it
without shedding a drop of blood, or inflicting misery on a
human being. What naval commander ever won laurels at such a
rate?”
This first volume was afterward republished for popular use by D.
Appleton & Co., and a smaller book based upon it was compiled by Dr.
Robert S. Tomes under the title of “The Americans in Japan.”
The preparation of the second volume required great care. Here the
delicate work of specialists was called in. Fortunately Perry was
sufficiently familiar, by personal acquaintance with scientific experts,
to easily find the right men for the right work. On September 9th 1856,
Perry sent to the printers a goodly portion of the manuscript of the
second volume, and was pleased to find volume third—the work of
Chaplain Jones—also in press. It now looked as if the whole work would
be ready for delivery at the next session of Congress. Ever
conscientious in the expenditure of government money, Perry relieved his
aids of further service and continued the work alone. He read every line
of script before going to the printer, and corrected all the proof
sheets. We find him writing December 28th 1856, to Townsend Harris, our
consul-general to Japan then living at Shimoda, who was slowly but
surely driving in the wedge inserted by the sailor-diplomatist.
When in sight of the consummation of his literary enterprise, February
2d 1857, Perry wrote, “I have been drawn into much expense not to be put
into a public bill,” . . . “The greater portion of the labor has been
performed by myself and those employed under my direction.” He sought
help outside of the navy only when it was impossible to do otherwise.
The completed work was therefore a true product of the navy. Dr. Francis
L. Hawkes wrote the preface, added a few footnotes and here and there a
sentence, and Dr. Robert Tomes prepared the introduction, but the
narrative was of Perry’s own writing. Nathaniel Hawthorne or some other
master of letters might have made a better product as literature, but
for history it is well that Perry told his own story.
A set of six superbly drawn and colored pictures of the most striking
scenes of the Japan Expedition was prepared for the government archives
and for sending abroad for foreign rulers and cabinets. They were drawn
by the eye-witnesses Brown and Heine,[42] and were executed in
lithograph by Brown and Lewis of Albany. Three hundred copies of the set
were printed, and the plates then destroyed. Each set was in a
portfolio.
Eighteen thousand copies of the Japan Expedition were published, at a
total cost of $360,000. Fifteen thousand copies were given to members of
Congress, two thousand to the Navy Department chiefly for distribution
among the officers, and one thousand to the Commodore of the Expedition.
Of this thousand, Perry gave five hundred copies to Dr. Hawkes.
This was the reward of a grateful republic!
During the Commodore’s absence in Japan, his family had lived at No. 260
Fourth avenue, New York City. He now took steps to secure a permanent
home and so purchased the house at No. 38 West 32d street. The forty
years growth of the metropolis was vividly brought before his mind when
on first looking out of the window of his new home, the old in
Bloomingdale, from which he took his bride, was in sight. His new home
stood on what was part of the lawn of the old Slidell homestead.
He became interested in the work of the American Geographical Society,
and attended its meetings. He prepared two papers, “Future Commercial
relations with Japan and Lew Chew,” (Riu Kiu), and “The Expediency of
Extending Further Encouragement to American Commerce in the East,” which
were printed in the society’s journal, and excited much interest. On the
6th of March 1856, at a crowded meeting in the chapel of the New York
University, at which Perry was present, Rev. Francis L. Hawkes read his
paper, afterwards published in pamphlet form, on “The Enlargement of
Geographical Science, a consequence to the opening of new avenues to
commercial enterprise.” The president of Columbia college, Charles King,
in moving a vote of thanks, spoke in high praise of the merits and
polished literary style of the essay. The prospects of trade, of coal,
of mail-steamers to China, the new avenues open to American commercial
enterprise, and the work of Christian missions heartily believed in by
Perry, were discussed by him with clearness, strength and beauty.
[Illustration: MEDAL PRESENTED BY THE MERCHANTS OF BOSTON.]
James Buchanan was inaugurated President, and Lewis Cass became
Secretary of State, March 4th 1857. General James Watson Webb was eager
to have the mission to China filled by his friend Commodore Perry. He
was long held back by Perry’s modesty and refusal to give assent to his
friend’s warm importunity. After permission had been given, General Webb
hastened to Washington, but was one day too late. Less than twenty-four
hours before, the Hon. Wm. B. Reed had received the appointment as envoy
to Peking. Perry’s fame as a diplomatist was to be inseparably linked to
Japan only.
General Webb, in speaking to the writer in 1878 in New York, said that
the regret of General Cass in not having known of Perry’s willingness to
go, and that it was too late, seemed very sincere. Perry had allowed his
friends to make the proposition, inasmuch as great events were about to
take place in China and he was eager to advance American interests in
the East. Further, he expected if he were appointed, to have the
personal services of Dr. S. Wells Williams his old interpreter and
friend whose character, knowledge and abilities, we know, constituted
the real power behind the American Legation in China from 1858 to 1876.
On the 28th of December 1857, Perry reported that his work on the book
would end with the year, and his office in Washington be closed. On the
30th, he was detached from special duty to await orders. It was
intimated to him at the Department that he was to have command of the
squadron in the Mediterranean—the American naval officers’ paradise,
when away from home. To this duty Perry looked forward with delight.
Thornton A. Jenkins was to be his chief of staff. He spent the pleasant
winter in New York enjoying social life.[43] Early in January, 1858, he
made a report on the cause of the loss of the _Central America_, with
suggestions for changes in the laws which should secure greater safety
of life and property on the ocean. These studies, which have since borne
good fruit, were with other matter published in a pamphlet of seven
pages, January 15th, 1858. His last official services were performed as
a member of the Naval Retiring Board.
The time was now drawing near when this man of tireless activity, who
was ever solicitous about the life and safety of others, was to part
with his own life. The inroads upon a superb constitution, made by
constant work on arduous and trying service, at many stations, in two
wars, in three or four diplomatic missions, and in protracted study so
soon after return from Japan, were becoming more and more manifest. In
the raw weather of February 1858, the Commodore caught a severe cold
which from the first gave indications of being serious. The old torment
of rheumatism developed itself, and yet not until the hour of his death
was he believed to be in mortal danger. It became manifest, however,
that the disease, contracted thirty-five years before, in his energy and
anxiety to save life and property, had undermined his constitution.
Symptoms of rheumatic gout appeared. One token of organic change was a
strong indisposition to ascend elevations of any sort. For four weeks he
felt more or less out of health. A change of physicians did not better
his case. On the 4th of March at midnight, the disease, leaving the
region of the stomach, began to assault the citadel, and at 2 A. M. at
his home in Thirty-second street, New York City, he died of rheumatism
of the heart.
His nephew, by marriage to the daughter of Commodore Oliver H. Perry,
the Rev. Dr. Francis Vinton, who was with him in his sickness says, “His
last wish expressed to me was to be buried by his father and mother and
brother in the old burial ground, to mingle his dust with his native
soil. He even choose his grave there.”
At his death, Matthew Calbraith Perry was third on the list of captains,
having served at sea twenty-five years and three months, and on other
duties nineteen years. Since entering the navy in 1808, he had been
unemployed less than five years, and had completed a term of service
within one year of a half century.
As a member of numerous civic and scientific associations, as well as
President of the Montezuma Society, the loss of Matthew Perry was that
of a citizen of broad tastes, sympathies, labors and influences. The
great city offered profuse tokens of regard and manifestations of
sorrow. The flags of the shipping in the harbor, and on the public
buildings and hotels, were flying at half-mast during three days. It was
arranged that on Saturday, in the grave-yard of St. Mark’s church at
Second avenue and Tenth street, the hero should be buried with
appropriate honors.
The military pageant which preceded the hearse consisted of five hundred
men of the Seventh Regiment, two hundred officers of the First Division
of the New York State Militia, followed by a body of United States
Marines. The pall-bearers included the Governor of the State, General
Winfield Scott, Commodores Sloat, Breese, McCluney and Bigelow, and
seven others, eminent and honored in the various fields of achievement;
but the most touching sight was the simplest. The sailors who had served
under Commodore Perry in the Japan Expedition and the Mexican war, had
volunteered on this occasion to do honor to their old commander. They
were the most interesting among the mourners. Although engaged in
various pursuits, in different places, they all managed to appear in the
regular working uniform of the United States Navy. This they had
procured at their own expense. They paraded under the command of Alonzo
Guturoz and Philip Downey. All bore evidence of having seen hard
service. They attracted much attention as they paraded through the
streets, and the simple music of their fifes and drums seemed more
appropriate and more impressive, than even that of the regimental band.
The route lay through Fifth Avenue, Fourteenth street, and Second Avenue
to Saint Mark’s Church.
The sensation produced throughout the community by the loss of so
illustrious a naval commander was shown in the faces of the crowd.
Despite the cold weather, the people lined the streets to see and listen
and feel. The tolling of the church bells, and the boom of the minute
guns rolling up from the ships and yard of the naval station, added
solemnity to the scene.
Within the church, the burial service was conducted by the Rev. Drs.
Hawks, Vinton, Higbee, and Montgomery. The anthem “Lord let me know my
end,” the hymn “I would not live alway,” and the interlude “I heard a
voice from Heaven,” were sung, moving all hearts by their sweetness and
solemnity.
The service over, the coffin was carried out and deposited in the grave
in the church-yard adjoining, and lowered into its last resting place.
The committal service and prayer over, the marines fired the three
volleys of musketry. The weather-beaten tars of the Japan Expedition
took a last look at the wooden enclosure which contained all that was
mortal of their beloved Commander, and all turned to depart. “The sight
of those honest hardy marines, who had collected from all quarters, and
at great personal inconvenience, to pay this last tribute of respect and
affection to one whom they had once loved to obey, was interesting and
suggestive. One almost expected to witness a repetition of the scene
that occurred at the funeral of Lord Nelson, and to see the stars and
stripes that floated above the grave torn into shreds and kept as
momentoes of the man and the occasion; but their affection though deep
and strong did not run into the poetical, and the flag remained whole
and untouched.”
In the church of St. Nazaro in Florence, may be read upon the tomb of a
soldier the words:
“Johannes Divultius, who never rested, rests—Hush!”
That is Perry’s real epitaph.
The unresting one now rests in the Isle of Peace. The two brothers,
Perry of the Lakes, and Perry of Japan, sleep in God, near the beloved
mother on whose bosom they first learned the worth of life, whose memory
they worshipped throughout their careers, and beside whose relics they
wished to lie.
On a hill in the beautiful Island cemetery at Newport, which overlooks
aboriginal Aquidneck, the City and Isle of Peace, the writer found on a
visit, October 30th, the family burying-ground. In the soft October
sunlight, the sight compelled contrast to the ancestral God’s acre in
South Kingston, among whose lichened stones of unwrought granite the
Commodore proposed erecting a fitting monument to his fathers. Within
the evergreen hedge, in the grassy circle ringed with granite and iron
lay, on the north side, the tomb of the Commodore’s grand-daughter, a
lovely maiden upon whose grave fresh flowers are laid yearly by the
loving parent’s hands.
The tomb of M. C. Perry is of marble, on a granite base, with six
garlands of oak leaves chiselled on it and bearing the modest
inscription:
“Erected by his widow to the memory of Matthew Calbraith Perry,
Commodore in the United States Navy, Born April 19th, 1794. Died
March the 4th, 1858.”
On the south side beneath and across, lies the son of the Commodore who
bore his father’s name:
“In memory of Matthew Calbraith Perry, Captain in the U. S.
Navy. Died November 10th, 1848.”
Another stone commemorates his son Oliver, who was with his father in
China and Japan, and for some time, United States consul at Hong Kong:
“In memory of Oliver Hazard Perry, son of Matthew C. and Jane
Perry. Died May 17th, 1870, aged 45.”
The Commodore’s widow, Jane Slidell Perry survived her husband
twenty-one years; and died in Newport, R. I., at the home of her
youngest daughter, Mrs. Tiffany, on Saturday, June 14, 1879, at the age
of 82.
-----
[39] See letter of James Purdon Esq., _New York Times_, January 6th,
1859.
[40] English Note Books, Vol. I., Dec. 25, 1854.
[41] See page 221.
[42] Putnam’s Magazine, August 1856, pp. 217, 218.
[43] See “A Dinner at the Mayor’s,” Harper’s Magazine, October 1860.