Matthew Calbraith Perry: A Typical American Naval Officer
CHAPTER XV.
LIGHTHOUSE ILLUMINATION, LENSES OR REFLECTORS?
THE water-ways leading to New York are such as to make Manhattan Island unique in its advantages for commerce. Already the metropolis of the continent, it is yet to be the commercial centre of the world. Until 1837 these highways of sea, river, and bay were greatly neglected, and on all except moonlight nights, vessels had great difficulty in approaching the city. Raritan and Newark bays were so destitute of buoys and beacons, that pilots charged double rates for navigating ships in them, rocks littered their channels, and the benighted New Jersey coast was jeeringly said to be “outside of the United States.” During the summer of 1837, Captains Kearney, Sloat, and Perry made a study of the water approaches to New York, the latter concerning himself with the Jersey side. His report, written at Perth Amboy, December 9, 1837, was made such good use of in Congress by Senator G. D. Wall, that a bill for the creation of lighthouses was passed, and Captain Perry was ordered to Europe for further study.
Embarking on the steamer _Great Western_ on her second round trip, June 27, 1838, Perry crossed the ocean when such a voyage was a novelty. The passage occupied twelve and a half days, during which a constant study of the engines and their behavior, and of wages and fuel satisfied him that steam could be applied to war vessels with safety and economy. This was in 1838, yet even as late as 1861, there were American naval officers more afraid of the boilers under their feet, than of the enemy’s guns; and many old sea-dogs still believed in the general efficiency of sailing frigates over steamers.
Arriving at Bristol his first business was to visit the lighthouses of the United Kingdom, after which he returned to London. In the foundries and shipyards he acquainted himself with engineers and manufacturers. He found a ferment of ideas. A real revolution in naval science was in progress. The British government was ambitious to have the largest steamer force in the world ready for sudden hostilities so as to possess an over-whelming advantage. So much encouragement was given by the admiralty, that nearly every mechanic in the kingdom, as it seemed, was eager to invent, improve or discover new steps to perfection. Especial attention was given to the problem of the economy of fuel. Vessels wholly built of iron were beginning to be common. These, as Perry predicted, were ultimately to have the preference for peaceful purposes, but their fitness as war vessels was still uncertain. Two were then building for the Emperor of Russia. The first paddle-wheel steamers, _Penelope_, _Terrible_, and _Valorous_, were afloat or building. The era of steam appliances as a substitute for manual labor aboard ships was being ushered in.
It is now seen that the immediate fruit of this possession, by the British government, of steam both as a motor and a substitute for manual labor on shipboard, was the growth of an imperial policy of extensive colonial dependencies and possessions for which the Victorian era will ever be conspicuous in history. The British Empire could never have become the mighty agglomeration which it now is, except through the agency of steam. The new force was not an olive branch, nor calculated to keep the battle flags furled; for already, the first of the twenty-five wars which the Victorian era has thus far seen had begun.
At the time of Perry’s visit, however, Britain’s exclusive domain seemed threatened by France. The spirit of invention and improvement, encouraged by Louis Philippe, was abroad in “la belle France.” Already nine war steamers afloat, with more planned on paper, the beginning of a respectable sea-force, were within two hours of England. A vigorous naval policy was in popular favor and the Prince de Joinville, in command of a corvette, the _Creole_, was beginning to express views which alarmed the Admiralty. The brilliant successes of the French in Mexican waters, the capture of the castle of St. Juan d’Ulloa after six hours bombardment, in which the terrific power of shells had been demonstrated, encouraged them to believe that their rivalry with England on the ocean was again possible. The undisputed supremacy of the British on the seas since Trafalgar, had, except from 1812 to 1815, remained unbroken because the only large navy left in Europe was British. France, now recovering from the long impoverishment inflicted upon her by the wars of Napoleon, was investing her money largely in steam war vessels of the finest type. Fortunately for her, the revival of her financial fortunes co-incided with the era of steam, and every franc applied to naval uses was expended on first-class vessels equal to any on the seas. On the contrary, many of the British fleet were sailing vessels. Furthermore, the science of artillery was undergoing a revolution, and France led the way in ordnance as well as in ships. Such an unexpected development of energy and wisdom in her rival startled the English naval mind as it afterward aroused the British public.
The carronades or “smashers” of the sailors, had had their day and their glory was already passing away. The Paixhans gun, or chambered ordnance capable of horizontal shell-firing, was now to supersede them. Fully alive to the needs of the times, the British government had three war steamers equipped, five were in course of construction, and the keels of six others were soon to be laid. These were to be of from eight hundred to twelve hundred tons and to mount heavy shell-guns at each end and in broadside. Even then, they had but fourteen against the nineteen steamers of France and hence the feverish desire for more.
Perry’s visit to Europe was exceedingly well-timed to secure the largest results, for a revolution in optical science and applied methods of illumination, as well as in ships and guns, was at hand. Science and invention were to do much for the saving of human life as well as for its destruction. The balances of Providence were to settle to a new equilibrium.
Crossing the channel, he visited Cherbourg and Brest, there finding the same courtesy and cordial reply to his questions. In Paris he came in contact with a number of distinguished scientific men. He was especially well assisted by the United States Agent, Mr. Eugene A. Vail. The illustrious Augustin Fresnel who had said in a letter to a friend, December 14, 1814, that he did not know what the phrase “the polarization of light meant,” was in 1819 crowned by the French Academy of Science as the first authority in optics. He had demonstrated to his countrymen the error of the old theory of the transmission of light by the emission of material particles. This he had achieved by the study of polarization. The practical application of his researches to the apparatus of lighthouses struck a death-blow to the old system of coast illumination.
Among other pleasant experiences in the French capital, was a second visit to King Louis Philippe. Invited by His Majesty to an informal supper, at which the royal family were present, Captain Perry took his seat at their table as a guest feeling more honored by this private confidence than if at a state dinner. At the table sat the King’s wife and children, tea being poured by the Queen herself. At this time, the Duc d’Orleans, son of the King, was rejoicing over the recent birth of a son. His name was Louis Albert Philippe d’Orleans, Comte de Paris. He afterwards served in the Union armies during our civil war of 1861–65, and is the accomplished author of the best general history of that series of events yet published, _Historie de la Guerre Civile en Amérique_. At this time, November 1838, the infant boy was not quite three months old, and the talk and thoughts of the royal family were centered on him.
Leaving Portsmouth December 10, by sailing packet, Perry arrived in New York, January 14, 1839. After a few days spent at home he went to Washington to deliver up his rich spoil of contemporaneous science, and his own elaborate reports, criticisms, and suggestions. His face was flushed with the irresistible enthusiasm of new ideas. And his thought was in the direction of the future. The wires of a magnetic telegraph had been strung across the campus of Princeton college, four years before this, by Professor Joseph Henry. Out of the discoveries of Faraday and Henry, brilliant results had sprung, of which application to the arts of war and peace was already being made. Both as a naval officer and as a lover of science, Perry rejoiced to see
“Undreamed-of sciences from year to year Upon dim shores of unexplored Night Their steady beacons kindle.”
He now bent his energies to bring before Congress the condition and needs of our lighthouse system. He wrote a vigorous and detailed letter exposing the abuses and the schemes of the ignorant set of plunderers who were opposing improvement. He proved that often important lighthouses were left for days in charge of wholly incompetent persons. Hence there was waste, robbery, and inefficiency, while a powerful combination held the system in its coils. “The Lighthouse Ring” was then as strong as that of “The Indian Ring” of later years. Further, the battle was one of science and new ideas against ignorance and ultra-conservative old fogyism. The lenses were struggling against the reflectors. The latter were the outcome of the emission theory of the propagation of light. The Lenticular method was based on the undulatory theory. Ignorance and avarice long held the field, but under the hammer-like facts and arguments of Perry, and those who thought with him, both were routed, and the present grand system is the final result. Our lighthouse establishment is not a creation, it is a growth.
At the Centennial Exposition at Philadelphia in 1876, the exhibit made by the government of the United States was under the charge of Rear-Admiral Thornton A. Jenkins, one of Perry’s pupils and friends. The triumphs of a half century in the illuminating art were manifest. Progress had at first crept by slow steps, from rude beacons of wood or coal fires on headlands, to oil lamps with flat wicks and spherical reflectors, to paraboloid mirrors and argand burners, to eclipse revolving or flashing lights. The katoptric system of Teulère, based on the reflection of light by metallic surfaces was introduced about 1790, and soon came in vogue among most civilized nations. It was costly and expensive, since half the rays of light were lost by absorption in the mirror even when new and perfectly polished; while the loss was far more when the mirror was old, unclean, or in constant use. Yet despite its many defects, it was the best of its kind known until Fresnel’s brilliant discoveries based on the principle of a burning-glass or convex lens refraction. After a struggle, the dioptric conquered the katoptric, and lenses rule the coast.
It was to introduce the dioptric system that Perry now earnestly labored. The influence of his arguments in Congress was powerful, and from this time the lenticular method prevailed, and the system of lighthouses on all our coasts was extended. From the first lighthouse built by the general government in 1791 at Cape Henry, the number had increased to seven in 1800. In 1838 there were but sixteen. The number now is not far from 250.
No less an authority than Rear-Admiral Thornton A. Jenkins, who, besides being the Naval Secretary of the Light-House Board from 1869 to 1871, framed the organic law under which the present efficient Light-House Board was established in 1852, says that “Through Perry’s influence the first real step was taken towards the present good system.” The light on the Neversink Highlands which the voyager to Europe sees, as the last sign of native land as it sinks below the horizon is one of the first, as it was the direct, fruits of Perry’s mission.
In an excellent article on this subject in the American Whig Review, March 1845, the same which contained Poe’s “Raven,” the writer, after commending Perry’s work and expatiating on the excellence of the Fresnel light, pleads for the union of science and experience, and more administrative method for this branch on the efficacy and perfection of which depend, not only the wealth with which our ships are freighted, but the lives of thousands who follow the sea.
When, in 1852, Perry lived to see his efforts crowned with success, and Congress finally organized the Light-House Board, Jenkins wished Perry to take the presidency of the Board; but other matters were pressing, Japan was looming up, and he declined.