A long list of minor memorials to Maury have appeared from time to time. One of the oldest is his portrait in fresco on the ceiling of the Library of the State Capitol of Tennessee in Nashville, which was painted in 1857. His name, among six or seven others, adorns the exterior of the building of the Seaman’s Institute, overlooking the Elbe, in Hamburg, Germany; while the University of Virginia has his name inscribed on the frieze of its new Rotunda. There are a number of other memorials in Maury’s native state. In Lexington at the Virginia Military Institute there is a Maury-Brooke Hall in which the physical sciences are taught. In Richmond, the house in which he invented the electric mine has been marked, and in South Richmond a street, a cemetery, and an elementary school all bear his name. Norfolk has a Matthew Fontaine Maury High School; while Fredericksburg has its Maury Hotel, and has marked the house where he resided for several years. In Goshen Pass, a tablet in Maury’s honor was unveiled on June 9, 1923. The bronze tablet is attached to a granite shaft about eight feet tall, at the base of which is to be placed an anchor, weighing 1500 pounds, and 90 feet of chain, of a type used in Maury’s time and donated by the Virginia Pilot Association of Norfolk. This memorial, which was designed and constructed by the sculptor Guiseppe Moretti, was authorized by the Legislature of Virginia. In the state of his adoption, there is only one recent memorial, a tablet in his honor, placed on the walls of the Public School Building in Franklin, Tennessee, by the Old Glory Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution.
Courtesy of the Commanding Officer, Commander James B. Glennon, U. S. N.
Destroyer U. S. S. “Maury,” Named in Honor of Maury
In the United States Navy there has been considerable recognition of Maury since his death,—particularly in recent years. His name is placed at the top of all the charts issued by the Hydrographic Office, in the following phrase: “Founded upon the researches made and the data collected by Lieutenant M. F. Maury, U. S. Navy”. In 1918 a destroyer in the U. S. Navy was called the Maury, and recently the Secretary of the Navy has named the Naval Oceanographic Research in his honor. At the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis, the left wing of the Academic Building bears the name of Maury Hall. This was originally the navigation wing of the building, and, according to the Superintendent of the Academy (Captain W. F. Fullam, U. S. Navy, in 1915), it was named by his direction “Maury Hall” because of “Maury’s distinguished and world-wide reputation in connection with meteorology and the study of ocean currents, etc.” In 1919, the United Daughters of the Confederacy established a prize at the Naval Academy, consisting of a pair of marine binoculars, to be known as the “Maury Prize” and to be awarded annually to that midshipman of the First Class who has shown superior excellence in electrical engineering and physics. A portrait of Maury by E. Sophonisba Hergesheimer was presented to the Naval Academy by the Daughters of the Confederacy, Atlanta Chapter, Georgia Division, and unveiled on November 20, 1923.[30]
One of the most recent memorials to Maury is as interesting as it is appropriate. On December 22, 1925, the Martin Vas Isles (Ilhas da Martin Vas) were visited by the Schooner Blossom of the South Atlantic Expedition which was sent out by the Cleveland Museum of Natural History for the purpose of collecting specimens from the volcanic islands of the South Atlantic. These islands, individually unnamed and hitherto imperfectly charted, lie about eight hundred miles off the coast of Brazil in the direction of Africa (latitude 20° 31′ S., longitude 28° 51′ W.). Captain George Finlay Simmons of the Blossom and his associates, impressed with the importance of the work done by Maury, decided to give his name to one of the three islands of the group which rises from the ocean like an impressive monument.
All of these memorials, so varied in their nature and so widely distributed, would seem to indicate that Maury’s name is by no means likely to be forgotten. Still, his name and his achievements are not so generally known, even in the United States, as they deserve to be. “For myself”, wrote Julian Street[31] a few years ago, “I must confess that, until I visited Virginia, I was ignorant of the fact that such a person had existed; nor have Northern schoolboys, to whom I have spoken of Maury, so much as heard his name. Yet there is not one living in the United States or in any civilized country, whose daily life is not affected through the scientific researches and attainments of this man”. One is surprised, however, sometimes to find foreign authors more familiar with Maury’s name, and to meet with references to him where one might least expect any knowledge of his scientific work. For example, in Walter de la Mare’s “Memoirs of a Midget” (p. 226), the reader is unexpectedly confronted with this: “I searched Mrs. Bowater’s library for views of the sea, but without much reward. So I read over Mr. Bowater’s Captain Maury—on the winds and monsoons and tide-rips and hurricanes, freshened up my Robinson Crusoe, and dreamed of the Angels with the Vials”. Another example, almost equally unexpected is to be found in Vicente Blasco Ibanez’s “Mare Nostrum” (p. 65). “He (Ulysses) had learned English”, writes Ibanez, “the universal language of the blue dominions, and was refreshing himself with a study of Maury’s charts—the sailor’s Bible—the patient work of an obscure genius who first snatched from ocean and atmosphere the secret of their laws”.
In recent scientific works, however, such as “The Depths of the Sea” by Sir John Murray and Dr. Johan Hjort, “Science of the Sea” edited by G. Herbert Fowler, and “Founders of Oceanography” by Sir William A. Herdman one is not surprised to find full justification for referring to Maury as “The Pathfinder of the Seas”, for marine meteorology, they declare, may be said to date from his time. Not only is this title appropriate in that Maury laid out on his charts the best tracks for voyagers to follow on the Seven Seas, but it is also fitting in a figurative sense for he was indeed a pathfinder in the realm of a new science,—the physical geography of the sea. This phrase was, therefore, rightly chosen to be placed on the memorial tablet in Goshen Pass as well as on the one at Franklin, Tennessee, and it is to be prominently inscribed on the monument soon to be erected to him in Richmond. This beautifully poetic title, “The Pathfinder of the Seas”, will be his real monument against which the tooth of time will gnaw in vain, for it will rest solidly based upon his original contributions to the science of the world: “The Physical Geography of the Sea” and the “Wind and Current Charts” with their “Sailing Directions”.
It is not so easy, on the other hand, to describe in a phrase Maury’s personality. Some of those who knew him well thought his most characteristic trait was his modesty; others considered “masculine common sense”, which enabled him to see things in their true light and their real bearing, most fully characterized him; while still another declared that he belonged to that class of men who are sans peur et sans reproche. But his character had too many facets for such a simple characterization, and one is forced to turn to a more detailed summary. Perhaps, the most nearly satisfying one of this sort is that written by Francis H. Smith, formerly Professor of Physics at the University of Virginia and one who was well acquainted with Maury and his scientific work.
“Of Maury’s personality”, Professor Smith wrote, “it may be said that no one that had the privilege of meeting him ever forgot the event. He had the winning manner and kindly address which seemed to belong to the men of his race and section. No worthy young fellow ever felt ignored or oppressed in his presence. He wore his honors easily, but while he valued the public tributes he received, he was not fond of displaying the insignia which came with them. He would put on those jewels sometimes in the privacy of home to gratify his children. He loved the little ones, and if to be childlike is to be perfect he was charmingly complete. His conversation was interesting to the thoughtful in the richness of the lessons he drew from common things. He would couple facts, regarded by others as unconnected, and thereby disclose unsuspected relations. It takes genius to make the rejected refuse of one generation the valuable ore of a succeeding one. This detection of a hidden meaning in the simplest matters shows the inexhaustible nature of truth, and is the mark of a superior mind”.[32]