John P. Kennedy, another of the able literary men who have filled the chair of secretary of the navy, was an ardent advocate of exploration and peaceful diplomacy. He was heartily in favor of the Japan expedition. Perry trusted in him so fully that, at last, tired of innumerable delays, having made profound study of the problem and elaborated details of preparation, he determined on his return from Newfoundland, September 15th, to sail in a few weeks in the Mississippi, relying upon the Secretary’s word that other vessels would be hurried forward with despatch.
Repairing to Washington, the Commodore had long and earnest interviews with the Secretaries of the State and Navy. Things were now beginning to assume an air of readiness, yet his instructions, from the State department, had not yet been prepared. Mr. Webster at this time was only nominally holding office in the vain hope of recovery to health after a fall from his horse. Perry, seeing his condition, and fearing further delays, asked of Mr. Webster, through General James Watson Webb, permission to write his own instructions.
We must tell the story in General Webb’s own words as found in The New York Courier and Inquirer, and as we heard them reiterated by him in a personal interview shortly before his death:—
“In the last of those interviews when we were desired by Perry to urge certain matters which he thought should be embraced in his instructions, Mr. Webster, with that wisdom and foresight and knowledge, for which he was so eminently the superior of ordinary men, remarked as follows:
‘The success of this expedition depends solely upon whether it is in the hands of the right man. It originated with him, and he of all others knows best how it is to be successfully carried into effect. And if this be so, he is the proper person to draft his instructions. Let him go to work, therefore, and prepare instructions for himself, let them be very brief, and if they do not contain some very exceptionable matter, he may rest assured they will not be changed. It is so important that if the expedition sail it should be successful, and to ensure success its commander should not be trammeled with superfluous or minute instructions.’ We reported accordingly, and thereupon Commodore Perry, as we can vouch, for we were present, prepared the original draft of his instructions under which he sailed for Japan.”
Mr. Webster’s successor and intimate personal friend, Edward Everett, simply carried out the wishes of his predecessor and made no alteration in the instructions to Perry. He, however, indited a new letter to the “Emperor,” which is only an expansion of the Websterian original. Everett’s “effort” differed from Daniel Webster’s letter, very much as the orator’s elaboration on a certain battle-field differed from Lincoln’s simple speech. At Gettysburg the one had the lamp, the other had immortality in it.
The Japan document was superbly engrossed and enclosed in a gold box which cost one thousand dollars.
The Princeton, a new screw sloop-of-war had been promised to him many months before, but the autumn was well advanced before her hull, empty of machinery and towed to New York, was visible. Captain Sydney Smith Lee was to command her. In the Mississippi, Perry towed her to Baltimore. Then began another of those exasperating stages of suspense and delay to which naval men are called, and to endure which seems to be the special cross of the profession. Waiting until November, as eagerly as a blockader waits for an expected prize from port, he wrote to his old comrade, Joshua R. Sands:—
“I am desirous of having you again under my command, and always have been, but until now no good opportunity has occurred consistently with promises I had made to Buchanan, Lee, and Adams.
“The Macedonian and Alleghany will soon have commanders appointed to them. For myself I would prefer the Alleghany, as from her being a steamer she will have a better chance for distinction, and I want a dasher like yourself in her.