| [43] | See “A Dinner at the Mayor’s,” Harper’s Magazine, October 1860. |
CHAPTER XXXV.
MATTHEW PERRY AS A MAN.
The active life of Matthew Perry spanned the greater part of our national history “before the war.” He lived to see the United States grow from four to thirty-two millions of people, and the stars in her flag from fifteen to thirty-one. He sailed in many seas, visited all the nations of Christendom, saw most of the races of the earth, and all flags except that of the stars and bars. He saw the rise and fall of many types of naval architecture. He was familiar with the problems of armor and ordnance, resistance and penetration, and had studied those questions in the science of war, which are not yet settled. He had made himself conversant with the arts auxiliary to his profession, and was one of the foremost naval men of his generation. His personal importance was far beyond his rank. He died fully abreast of his age, and looked far beyond it. Had he lived until the opening of “the war,” he would have been fully prepared, by alertness of mind, for the needs of the hour, and would doubtless have held high rank. He was called to rest from his labors before feeling the benumbing effects of old age. As it was, his influence was clearly traceable in the navy, and younger officers carried out his ideas into practice, when opportunity came. Had the United States, at the opening of the rebellion possessed a respectable modern navy, such as Perry labored for, the great southern ports could have been at once sealed; and that foreign aid, without which the Confederacy could not have lived six months, would have been made null. Indeed, with a first-class navy, the slave-holder’s conspiracy could never have been hatched. As it was, the navy kept off foreign intervention.
Despite the long and brilliant succession of services rendered his country, Matthew Perry never received either rank or reward beyond those of an ordinary captain.
The rank of admiral was provided for in the Act of Congress of November 15th, 1776, and the title of admiral was conceded to Paul Jones in the correspondence of the State Department. Yet although the original law, creating the American navy, allowed the rank of captains in three grades of commodore, vice-admiral and admiral, there was no legal title higher than captain in the United States navy until 1862; until Farragut hoisted his flag at the main peak of the Hartford August 13th, 1862, as senior rear-admiral; becoming, July 25th, 1866, admiral. In compliment to his services Charles Stewart was commissioned senior flag-officer, and at the time of Perry’s death, Stewart was senior to himself. Yet if the title of admiral, prior to Farragut, belongs to any American officer by virtue of largeness of fleets commanded, by responsibility of position, or by results achieved, surely we may speak as the Japanese did of “Admiral Perry.”
With most of his subordinate officers, Perry’s relations were of the pleasantest nature compatible with his own high sense of duty and discipline. If he erred, it was usually in the right direction. Professor Henry Coppée, who was a young officer in the Mexican war, writes, from memory, in 1882:—
“He (Perry) was a blunt, yet dignified man, heavy and not graceful, something of a martinet; a duty man all over, held somewhat in awe by the junior officers, and having little to do with them; seriously courteous to others. The ship seemed to have a sense of importance because he was on board.”
The same gentleman relates that once, upon going on board the flag-ship, the midshipmen, with the intent of playing a practical joke, told him to go to Commodore Perry and talk with him. They expected to see the landsman gruffly repelled. The tables were turned, when the would-be jokers saw “the old man” kindly welcome the young officer and engage in genial conversation with him. “I remember,” adds Dr. Coppée, “years afterwards when I heard of what he accomplished in Japan, saying to myself, ‘Well, he is just the man of whom I should have expected it all.’ ”
He had both the qualities necessary for war and for peaceful victory. Though his conquests in war and in peace, in science and in diplomacy, were great, the victory over himself was first, greatest and most lasting. He always kept his word and spoke the truth.
“The Commodore was not a genial man socially. His strong characteristics were self-reliance, earnestness of purpose and untiring industry, which gave such impetus to his schemes as to attract and carry with them the support of others long after they had passed out of his own hands. It was the magnetic power of these qualities in the character of the man that enlisted the services of others in behalf of his purposes, and not any special amenities of manner or sympathies of temperament, that drew them lovingly toward him. And yet, under this austere exterior, which seemed intent only upon the performance of cold duty, as duty, he had a kind and gentle nature that in domestic life was an ornament to him. Never afraid of responsibility in matters of official duty, he was ever on the alert to seek employment when others hesitated. He was bluff, positive and stern on duty, and a terror to the ignorant and lazy, but the faithful ones who performed their duties with intelligence and zeal held him in the highest estimation, for they knew his kindness and consideration of them.”[[44]]