When you produce a book that attempts to cover a long stretch of history–400 years in Salem’s case—you are haunted by what (and who) is left out. I’m so glad that Salem’s Centuries is an anthology as others share the responsibility, otherwise I’d be really haunted. But I still think about untold stories and uncharted territory. So this Veterans Day week post is a small compensation. I wrote the epilogue of the book, entitled “It Happened in Town House Square,” which summarizes Salem’s centuries by focuses on its central square as a stage of sorts over time, from the seventeenth century to the twenty-first. When researching events that happened at Salem City Hall after its construction in the mid-nineteenth century, I came across a remarkable outpouring of grief and respect for a soldier of the First World War who had demonstrated extraordinary leadership and died tragically just two years after his return—of appendicitis. Lieutenant Colonel Frank S. Perkins’ body lay in state in City Hall for several hours prior to his funeral, the only instance I could find of this honor. He was not the central focus of my epilogue, but he is of my post today.
State Library of Massachusetts
Frank Sutherland Perkins (1872-1921) was a distinguished officer, but his story is also representative of the experience of the approximately 2100 Salem men who served in the Great War. He was a citizen soldier, born in Salem and educated in the city’s public schools, and he rose through the ranks of the Salem Savings Bank as he coincidentally served in the National Guard from the age of 20. In the city that is identified as the birthplace of the National Guard, he served with its most esteemed local company, the Second Corps Cadets, which dates back to the close of the Revolutionary War, like his father and grandfather before him. With the American entry into World War I, all of New England National Guard units were mobilized as the Federal 26th Infantry Division, almost immediately designated the “Yankee Division” and deployed to France rather quickly. With over 25 years of service at this point, Perkins began the war as a battalion commander within the 101st Field Artillery Regiment of the Yankee Division, and was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and Commander of the entire regiment on the firing line at Verdun just before Armistice Day. He had received the Croix de Guerre from the French government the summer before, and was awarded the Grand Order of the Crown by the Belgian government upon his return to America after the war, along with the jubilant gratitude of his fellow Salemites.
Isn’t this second paragraph poignant? He is in splendid health. He was 47 years old and in splendid health, and just a little over two years later he was dead, after contracting peritonitis following surgery at Salem Hospital. It reminds me of all those deaths at Camp Devens in 1918-1919, of soldiers returned home from the terrible war who had survived machine guns and gas but fell to the influenza pandemic. Perkins’ death must have been shocking to people in Salem as well, because they responded with a great outpouring. I suppose General Frederick Lander’s 1862 Washington funeral might have been more notable, but his Salem service was eclipsed by that of Perkins in terms of sheer numbers: crowds lined the streets near his house, City Hall, the Second Unitarian Church (now the Witch Museum), and for the last procession to Greenlawn Cemetery.
He was just such a Salem man. Following the fire of 1914, he had guarded burnt-out streets and set up camps with the Guard, and just four years later his wife led the procession of families filmed on Salem Common in 1918 by the YMCA for their soldiers over there. On the morning of his funeral, the Salem Evening News characterized him as “a loyal son of Salem, hero, banker, and warrior, a man worshipped by all soldier boys of Greater Salem and vicinity, whom he loved in return, and a man known all over the state because of his distinguished and heroic services in the World War.” More succinctly and universally, his epitaph refers to him as a loyal soldier, beloved officer, and true man.
