Rear Admiral Edward Dunham Robie

Chief Engineer Edward Dunham Robie, U.S.N., ranking as a Rear Admiral on the retired list, and who celebrated his golden wedding anniversary Wednesday of last week, is an interesting figure in one of the most memorable naval expeditions that ever set out from this country. He is one of the five surviving officers of the 200 who accompanied Commodore Matthew Calbraith Perry in the famous expedition which opened up Japan to the civilized world in 1852-54, and thus did more toward the rapid advancement of that progressive nation to the first rank of powers and to cement its people in friendship to the people of the United States of America than all the rest of the world combined.
Admiral Robie was born in Burlington, VT., September 11, 1831, and is a son of Jacob Carter Robie and Louisa Dunham Robie. He was educated at the Binghamton Academy, Binghamton, N.Y., where he won the scholarship prize and was subsequently warranted an assistant engineer in the U.S. Navy. He was one of the naval engineering class of nineteen in 1852, which, after competitive examination, was evolved from 100 contestants. He won his way to the head of that class and became its ranking officer.
At the early age of 30, he was commissioned by President Lincoln chief engineer in the U.S. Navy, his commission being of the very few which President Lincoln signed with his full name, Abraham Lincoln, instead of the familiar signature "A.Lincoln."
After an eventful life, rich in accomplishment and full of exciting incidents, he was retired for age September 11, 1893, with the rank of Commodore, being the only one of his class to attain that rank; and in 1906, by Act of Congress, his rank was raised to that of Rear Admiral for his creditable record in the Civil War.

Admiral Robie, however, prefers to find the great pleasure of his later years in the recollection of that memorable expedition to Japan.
"The expedition", he explains, "under Commodore Perry," sailed, in 1852, on a never-to-be-forgotten trip around the world, and returned to New York in 1855, after having successfully circumnavigated the globe, being the first instance in the history of the American Navy for a steam frigate to accomplish that feat.
"I was attached to the Flagship Mississippi", he said, "one of the three frigates in the fleet." The two others being the Susquehanna and the Powhatan. They were old fashioned side wheel steamers, with wooden hulls, and boilers built of copper plate a quarter of an inch thick to sustain a steam pressure of eight pounds to the square inch and maintain a speed, the wonderful speed, of eight knots per hour. There were with the fleet several sloops of war, the Plymouth, the Saratoga, and others, numbering in all 15 vessels.
They sailed from Hampton Roads, VA., in November 1852, via Capetown, South Africa, touching at Madeira, the Azores and St. Helena. Leaving Capetown, we touched at Mauritius in the Indian Ocean, and then Point de Galle, Ceylon, and after many more miles of voyage, reached Singapore; Hong Kong, China came next on the itinerary and then Japan.
The first point we touched in Japan was Shui, capitol of Lew Chew, Jun 6, 1853. The country was a revelation to us, and when we first went ashore almost everyone was sketching what he saw, even the common sailors doing the best they could.

A WALLED CITY
At Shui we found a walled city and Commodore Perry signified to the Japanese officials, through interpreters, that he wished to visit it. They were appalled and told him that under no circumstances would that be permitted. The Commodore, however, whom we affectionately dubbed the "Ursa Major", in his quiet, forceful way, informed them that on the following day he would land and visit the city and would expect its gates to be opened to him. The Japanese were courteous and polite, but we were evidently not to their liking. They would, I think, have crushed us had they dared, but were wise enough to recognize our superior strength, and so, when, on the morrow, the Commodore, accompanied by about 300 sailors and marines, to whom fifty rounds of ammunition had been furnished for guns and our dozen howitzers, appeared at the gates of the walled city, he found them open and we entered and marched all around the city, in which no white man had ever set foot before.
From Shui, we went to the Bay of Yeddo and Yokohama. The waters of the Bay had never been charted, and we did not know how far, or to what extent they were navigable. We had to chart them and the work was begun at once. Imagine the surprise of the natives. We were told that no steamship had ever been seen in these waters before.
The Japanese came down to meet us in force, in hundreds of boats laden with men armed with swords and spears, bows and arrows, escorted by their best battleship, an old one sail junk. Just think of it, and this only 55 years ago. Well, as our cutters moved ahead in their work of sounding and charting the waters, the Japanese would steer their boats in front of ours and endeavor to obstruct our way. A show of muskets by our men and a determined attitude, however, soon induced them to get out of our way, and in this way the Bay of Yeddo was sounded and charted by us.