CHAPTER XXXIV.

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.”

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.

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.