Just as the blue waters of the bay mirrored the image of the sixth sail, king and government yielded.[[6]]
The demands were fully acceded to, and interest was guaranteed on instalments. Mr. Nelson frankly acknowledged that the success of his mission was due to the naval demonstration. Admiral Patterson wrote, “I have remained here with the squadron as its presence gave weight to the pending negotiations.” The line of six frigates and corvettes, manned by resolute men under perfect discipline, and under a veteran’s command, carried the best artillery in the world. Ranged opposite the lava-paved streets of the most densely peopled city of Europe, and in front of the royal castle, they formed an irresistible tableau. Neither the castle d’Oro, nor the castle St. Elmo, nor the forts could have availed against the guns of the Yankee fleet.
The entire squadron remained in the Bay of Naples from August 28, to September 15. As the ships separated, the Brandywine went to Marseilles, and the John Adams to Havre. The Concord was left behind to take home the successful envoy. This compelled Perry’s residence in Naples, at considerable personal expense. The welcome piping of the boatswain’s orders to lift anchor for the home run was heard October 15. The ocean crossed, Cape Cod was sighted December 3, and anchor cast at Portsmouth December 5. Mr. Nelson departed in haste to Washington to deck the re-elected President’s cap with a new diplomatic feather, which greatly consoled him amid his nullification annoyances.
Writing on the twenty-first of December, Perry stated that the Concord was dismantled. On the next day he applied for the command of the recruiting station at New York, as his family now made its home in that city.
This cruise of thirty months was fruitful of experience of nature, man, war, diplomacy, and travel. He had visited the dominions of nine European monarchs besides Greece, had anchored in and communicated with forty different ports, had been three hundred and forty-five days at sea, and had sailed twenty-eight thousand miles. No officer had appeared as prisoner or witness at a court-martial, and on no other vessel had a larger proportion of men given up liquor. Ship and crew had been worthy of the name.
During all the cruise, Perry showed himself to be what rear-admiral Ammen fitly styled him, “one of the principal educators of our navy.” He directed the studies of the young midshipmen, advised them what books to read, what historical sites to visit, and what was most worth seeing in the famous cities. He gave them sound hints on how to live as gentlemen on small salaries. He infused into many of them his own peculiar horror of debt. He sought constantly to elevate the ideal of navy men. The dogma that he insisted upon was: that an officer in the American Navy should be a man of high culture, abreast of the ideas of the age, and not a creature of professional routine. He heartily seconded the zeal of his scholarly chaplain, Professor Jenks, who was the confidential secretary of Commodore Perry, and so became very intimate with him during the cruise of several years. He was the interpreter to Captain Perry, and conducted the interviews with the various crowned heads.
Rear-Admiral Almy says of his commander Matthew Perry at this time that: “He was a fine looking officer in uniform, somewhat resembling the portraits of his brother the hero of Lake Erie, but not so handsome, and had a sterner expression and was generally stern in his manner.”
For the expenses incurred during this cruise in entertaining the Khedive Mehemet Ali, in performing duties far above his grade, his extra services on the Brandywine, and shore residence in Naples, Perry was reimbursed to the amount of $1,500, by a special Act of Congress passed March 3, 1835.
| [6] | The Navy in Time of Peace, by Rear-Admiral John Almy.—Washington Republican March 13, 1884. |