Depressed, Melville traveled to San Francisco aboard a clipper ship captained by his youngest brother, Tom, lectured about the South Seas and his European travels, wrote poetry, and in vain sought a consulship in the Pacific, Italy, or Belgium to stabilize his failing finances. With deep-felt patriotism, he tried to join the Navy at the outbreak of the Civil War, but was turned down.
He returned to New York City in 1863 and for four dollars a day served at the Gansevoort Street wharf for twenty years (from 1866–86) as deputy inspector of customs, a job he characterized as “a most inglorious one; indeed, worse than driving geese to water.” The move was heralded by a carriage accident, which further diminished Melville’s health. He grew more morose and inward after his son Malcolm shot himself in 1866 following a quarrel over Malcolm’s late hours. His second son, Stanwix, went to sea in 1869, never established himself in a profession, and died of tuberculosis in a San Francisco hospital in February 1886.
Melville mellowed in his later years. A relative’s legacy to Lizzie enabled him to retire. He took pleasure in his grandchildren, daily contact with the sea, and occasional visits to the Berkshires. When the New York Authors Club invited him to join, he declined. He became more reclusive as he composed his final manuscript, Billy Budd, a short novel about arbitrary justice, which he completed five months before his death. It was dedicated to John J. “Jack” Chase, fellow sailor, lover of poetry, and father figure. Melville died of a heart attack on September 28, 1891, without reestablishing himself in the literary community. He was buried at Woodlawn Cemetery in the north Bronx; his obituary occupied only three lines in the New York Post.
Billy Budd, the unfinished text which some critics classify as containing his most incisive characterization, remained unpublished until 1924. This novel, along with his journals and letters, a few magazine sketches, and Raymond M. Weaver’s biography, revived interest in Melville’s writings. Melville’s manuscripts are currently housed in the Harvard collection.
