Matthew Calbraith Perry: A Typical American Naval Officer

by William Elliot Griffis

Knowing that failure in the initiative of the experimental steam service might prejudice the public, and especially the incredulous and sneering old salts who had no faith in the new fangled ideas, he requested that midshipmen for the Fulton should be first trained in seamanship prior to their steamer life. He was also especially particular about the moral and personal character of the “line” officers who were first to live in contact with a new and strange kind of “staff.” It is difficult in this age of war steamers, when a sailing man-of-war or even a paddle-wheel steamer is a curiosity, to realize the jealousy felt by sailors of the old school towards the un-naval men of gauges and stop-cocks. They foresaw only too clearly that steam was to steal away the poetry of the sea, turn the sailor into a coal-heaver, and the ship into a machine.

Perry demanded in his line officers breadth of view sufficient to grasp the new order of things. They must see in the men of screws and levers equality of courage as well as of utility. They must be of the co-operative cast of mind and disposition. From the very first, he foresaw that jealousy amounting almost to animosity would spring up between the line and staff officers, between the deck and the hold, and he determined to reduce it to a minimum. The new middle term between courage and cannon was caloric. He would provide precedents to act as anti-friction buffers so as to secure a maximum of harmony.

“The officers of a steamer should be those of established discretion, not only that great vigilance will be required of them, but because much tact and forbearance must necessarily be exercised in their intercourse with the engineers and firemen who, coming from a class of respectable mechanics and unused to the restraints and discipline of a vessel of war, may be made discontented and unhappy by injudicious treatment; and, as passed midshipmen are supposed to be more staid and discreet I should prefer most of that class.”

“In this organization of the officers of this first American steamer of war, I am solicitous of establishing the service on a footing so popular and respectable, as to be desired by those of the navy who may be emulous of acquiring information in a new and interesting field of professional employment, and I am sure that the Department will co-operate so far as it may be proper in the attainment of the object.”

That was Matthew Perry—ever magnifying his office and profession. He believed that responsibility helped vastly to make the man. He suggested that engineers take the oath, and from first to last be held to those sanctions and to that discipline, which would create among them the esprit so excellent in the line officers.

Out of many applicants for engineer’s posts on the Fulton, Perry, to November 16th, had selected only one, as he was determined to get the best. He believed in the outward symbols of honor and authority. “In order to give them a respectable position, and to encourage pride of character in their intercourse with citizens, and to make them emulous to conduct themselves with propriety, I would respectfully suggest that a uniform be assigned to them.” He proposed the usual suit of plain blue coat with rolling collar, blue trousers, and plain blue cap. The distinction between first and second engineers should be visible, only in the number and arrangement of the buttons; the first assistant to wear seven, and the second assistant six in front, both having one on each collar, and slight variation on the skirts. Later on, the paddle-wheel wrought in gold bullion was added as part of the uniform. “The olive branch and paddle-wheel on the collars of the engineers designated their special vocation, and spoke of the peaceful progress of art and science.”

The sailors, who as a class are too apt to be children of superstition, were somewhat backward about enlisting on a war-ship with a boiler inside ready to turn into an enemy if struck by a shot; but at last after many and unforeseen delays, the Fulton got out into the harbor early in December. Steam was raised in thirty minutes from cold water. Many of the leading engineers and practical mechanics were on board. With ten inches of steam marked on the gauge, and twenty revolutions a minute, she made ten knots an hour, justifying the hope that she would increase her speed to twelve or even thirteen knots. The first assistant-engineers of this pioneer war steamer were Messrs. John Farron, Nelson Burt, and Hiram Sanford.

The Chief Engineer was Mr. Charles H. Haswell, now the veteran city surveyor of New York.

Perry wrote December 17, 1837, “I have established neat and economical uniforms for the different grades.” He also arranged their accommodations on the vessel, and their routine of life was soon established. A trial trip to go outside the bay and in the ocean was arranged for December 28, but the old-fashioned condensing apparatus worked badly. The machinery of the Fulton, though perhaps the best for the time, was of rude pattern as compared with the superb work turned out to-day in American foundries. Even this clumsy mechanical equipment had not been obtained without great anxiety, patience, and delay, and by taxing all the resources of the New York machine shops.

Of her value as a moving fortress, Perry wrote: “The Fulton will never answer as a sea-vessel, but the facility of moving from port to port, places at the service of the Department, a force particularly available for the immediate action at any point.” With the lively remembrance of the efficiency of the British blockade of New York and New London in the war of 1812, he adds, “In less than an hour, after orders are received, the Fulton can be moving in any direction at the rate of ten miles an hour, with power of enforcing the instructions of the government.”