Dismissing from his mind, or at least postponing until a more propitious time his eastward possibilities, Perry, March 21, 1851, applied for the command of the Mediterranean squadron to succeed Commodore Morgan if the way was clear. During the summer and autumn, he was several times in Washington, and frequently in consultation with the Naval Committee. He was led to believe his desire would be granted and made personal and domestic arrangements accordingly. Yet the appointment hung fire for reasons that Perry did not then understand.

General Taylor, having been hustled into the Presidency, promptly succumbed to the unaccustomed turmoil of politics. He yielded to an enemy more dire and persistent than Santa Anna,—the office seeker, and found his grave. The urbane Millard Fillmore took his place, with Daniel Webster as Secretary of State. The suggestions of Commander Glynn for the opening of Japan had pleased both the President and Secretary, and pretty soon, one of those multiplying pretexts and opportunities for going near the “Capital of the Tycoon” occurred. It was the picking up at sea of another lot of waifs by Captain Jennings, of the barque Auckland who took them to San Francisco. On the 9th of May, 1857, Commodore Aulick proposed to the Secretary of State a plan for the opening of Japan, and on the same day, Mr. Webster addressed an official note to Hon. William Graham, Secretary of the Navy, in which these words occur:

“Commodore Aulick has suggested to me, and I cheerfully concur in the opinion, that this incident may afford a favorable opportunity for opening commercial relations with the empire of Japan; or, at least, of placing our intercourse with that Island upon a more easy footing.”

The nail already inserted in the wood by Glynn was thus driven further in by Aulick’s proposition and Mr. Webster’s hearty indorsement. The next day a letter to the “Emperor” was prepared and, on the 30th of May, Commodore Aulick received his commission to negotiate and sign a treaty with Japan. He was to be accompanied by “an imposing naval force.” At least, so Mr. Webster’s letter suggested. Unfortunately, for Commodore Aulick, he left before the nail was driven in a sure place. He departed for the East with slight preparation, foresight, or mastery of details, and long before the “imposing” naval force was gathered, or even begun. Even had Aulick remained in command, he would probably never have received any large accession to his force. Had he attempted the work of negotiation with but two or three vessels, he would most probably have failed. The preparation and sailing of the fleet to follow him was delayed. Promises were never kept, and he was recalled. Why was this? Commodore Aulick, on his return, demanded a court martial in order that he himself might know the reasons, but his wishes were not heeded. History has heretofore been silent on the point.

There are some who think that Perry is at fault here; that he grasped at honors prepared for others, reaping where he had not sowed.

The reason for the recall of Commodore Aulick and the appointment of Perry in his place were neither made public at the time, nor have they thus far been understood by the public, or even by acquaintances of Perry who ignorantly misjudge him. A number of persons, some of them naval officers, have even supposed that Perry was responsible for the bad treatment of Commodore Aulick, and that he sacrificed a fellow-officer to gratify his own ambition. The writer was long under the impression that Perry’s own urgency in seeking the position secured for himself the appointment, and that the government favored Perry at the expense of his comrade. With the view of sounding the truth at the bottom of the well, the writer made search in both Aulick’s and Secretary Graham’s official and confidential letters.

The unexpected result was the thorough vindication of Perry from the shadow of suspicion. The facts reveal that harsh treatment may sometimes hastily and needlessly be accorded to a gallant officer, and illustrate the dangers besetting our commanders, when non-naval people with a weakness for tittle-tattle live on board a man-of-war. The arrows of gossip and slander, whether on sea or land, are sufficiently poisonous. They nearly took the life, and ruined the reputation of Commodore Aulick; but of their shooting, Perry was as innocent as an unborn child. The simple facts in the case are that Commodore Aulick was recalled from China long before Perry had any idea of assuming the Japan mission, and that his relations with his old comrade in Mexico were always of the pleasantest nature. We must look from the captains to their superior.

On the 1st of May 1851, Commodore Aulick received orders to proceed in the new steamer frigate Susquehanna to Rio [de] Janeiro, taking out the Brazilian minister Macedo as the guest of the United States. He sailed from Norfolk June 8th, and by way of Madeira, arrived at his destination July 22. The Susquehanna was a steam frigate of noble spaciousness built at the Philadelphia Navy Yard in 1847. Her launch amid a glory of sunshine, bunting, happy faces, and the symbolic breaking of a bottle of water from the river of her own name, the writer remembers as one of the bright events of his childhood. She carried sixteen guns, and was of two thousand four hundred and fifty tons burthen, but though of excellent model her machinery was constantly getting out of order. From Rio [de] Janeiro Aulick proceeded around the Cape of Good Hope on diplomatic business with the Sultan of Zanzibar. This having been finished, Aulick sailed to China and on arriving at Hong Kong, began to organize a squadron and make his personal preparations for a visit to Japan. He secured as his interpreter, D. Bethune McCartee, Esq., M. D. an accomplished American missionary at Ningpo. He also investigated, as per orders, with the aid of the missionaries of the Reformed [Dutch] Church in America at Amoy, Rev. Messrs. Doty and Talmage, (brother of T. De Witt Talmage of Brooklyn) the coolie traffic. The Saratoga was sent after the mutineers of the Robert Bowne, and visited the Riu Kiu islands. While engaged in cruising between Macao and Manilla, though smitten down with disease, the old hero was astounded at receiving a curt order from the Secretary of the Navy dated November 18th, 1851. It directed him to hand over his command to Captain Franklin Buchanan, but not to leave the China seas until his successor should arrive. At the same time, he was informed that grave imputations had been cast upon his conduct. Prompt and full explanation of these was called for. The charges were, that he had violated express orders in taking a person (his son) on board a national vessel as passenger without authority, and that he had given out at Rio [de] Janeiro that the Chevalier de Macedo was being carried at his (Aulick’s) private expense.

Meanwhile, the Anglo-Chinese newspapers got hold of the patent fact, and the ready inference was drawn that Commodore Aulick had been recalled for mis-conduct. This annoyed the old veteran to exasperation. Worn out by forty-four years in his country’s service, with both disgrace and an early but lingering death staring him in the face, with the prospect of being obliged to go home in a merchant vessel and without medical attendance, he dictated (being unable to hold a pen) a letter dated February 7, 1853 protesting against this harsh treatment caused by “ex-parte statements of certain diplomats in Rio [de] Janeiro, whose names, up to this time, have never been officially made known to me.” For months in precarious health, Aulick waited for his unnamed relief, and at last, heard that it was his as yet old friend Perry. By the advice of his physician, Dr. Peter Parker and surgeon S. S. Du Barry, he started homeward at the first favorable opportunity, by the English mail steamer, passing the Mississippi on her way out.

In London, Commodore Aulick called upon and was the guest of Chevalier de Macedo, who learned with surprise of the trouble into which he had fallen with his government. A long letter now in the navy archives, from the Brazilian, thoroughly exonerated Aulick. Arriving in New York June 1st, 1863, and reporting to Secretary Dobbin, Commodore Aulick requested that, if his letter of explanation of February 17, 1853, were not deemed satisfactory, a court of inquiry, or court martial, be ordered for his trial. After careful examination, the secretary wrote, August 2, 1853, clearing Aulick of all blame, accompanying his letter with waiting orders. In the letter of the gratified officer in response dated August 4, 1853, we have the last word in this painful episode in naval history, in which the brave veteran was nearly sacrificed by the stray gossip of a civilian apparently more eager to curry Brazilian favor than to do eternal or even American justice.