Showing posts with label Washington Navy Yard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Washington Navy Yard. Show all posts

Thursday, May 9, 2024

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, September 7, 1861

On the high land overlooking the Potomac, about six or seven miles above the Navy Yard at Washington, we have, since our arrival here, thrown up a small fort, formed extensive abattis, and made redoubts and fortifications to command the turnpike leading down the river, and the bridge over which any enemy must pass from any direction above here to reach Washington. This looks like business. The earthwork fort is small, but very strong, and its large siege guns, from twelve to eighteen feet long, with their sullen faces watching up and down the road in every direction, give it a most formidable appearance. A brigade (I have not learned what one) has just advanced beyond us to commence another fort, about two miles to the southwest of us. Neither fort has yet been officially named, but the one just finished is called by the soldiers Fort Mott; the one about to be built they will for the present distinguish by the name of Fort Ethan Allen. In this manner we are closing on the enemy by slow approaches, or parallels. Let Dupont and Butler, from North Carolina, advance to meet us, whilst Fremont takes care of the Mississippi, and we shall have an early closing up of the war. Every day's observation more and more satisfies me that the enemy will not fight us here.

9 P. M.—Our fort is completed, and we have just received orders to cook three days rations, and be ready to move at a moment's notice.

I will here note, once for all, the manner of the soldiers taking care of themselves in a storm, when they have no tents. They all have "rubber blankets." Two forks are set, and a pole laid from one to the other, some four or five feet from the ground. A kind of lean-to roof is made by placing brush or poles against this, one end resting on the ground, the other end resting on the pole. To make this roof water-proof, the rubber blankets are stretched, like tiles on a roof, and no water gets through. In moderate weather the men cuddle together under this, and are reasonably comfortable. In cold weather they make large log fires in front of these "bivouacs," and pass the nights without freezing.

An order was received to-day from the War Department, that in future no labor shall be required of soldiers on the Sabbath, except what is absolutely necessary for our defence.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 25-6

Wednesday, July 27, 2022

Diary of Gideon Welles: June 8, 1865

The Santiago arrived at the Navy Yard, Washington, this day, shortly after meridian. My two sons, Edgar and Tom, were awaiting our arrival and came off in the boat to receive us. All were well.

Governor Dennison and myself called immediately on the President and reported our return. We found him with a delegation headed by Judge Sharkey from Mississippi, concerning the subject of reorganizing that State. The President was glad to receive us, and invited us, after introduction, to participate in the discussion. Subsequently, after the delegation had withdrawn, we briefly reported the results of our observation as to the condition and sentiments of the people of North and South Carolina and Georgia.

Found matters at the Department had proceeded satisfactorily. Some matters which might have been disposed of awaited my action.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 2: April 1, 1864 — December 31, 1866, p. 315

Friday, May 31, 2019

Diary of Captain Luman Harris Tenney: May 15, 1865

Was routed out this morning at 10 A. M. by Chester. Gave the P. M. General a call to learn about extra pay on resignation. Visited Navy Yard before dinner and Arsenal after dinner. Wrote to Mr. Wright.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 163

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Diary of John Hay: May 9, 1861

. . . There was a very fine matinee at the Navy Yard given by some musical members of the 12th New York. They sang well, the band played well, and the President listened well. After the programme the President begged for the Marseillaise. The prime gentleman gave the first verse and then generously repeated it, interpolating nonchalantly “Liberty or Death” in place of “Abreuve nos sillons” which he had forgotten.

Then we went down to the Pensacola and observed the shooting of the great Dahlgren gun Plymouth. . . . The President was delighted. . . .


SOURCE: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 32

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Diary of John Hay: April 25, 1861

At the request of the Tycoon, who imagined he had seen something significant steaming up the river, I went down to the Navy Yard. Saw Dahlgren, who at once impressed me as a man of great coolness and power. The boat was the Mt. Vernon, who reported everything right in the river.

About noon the Seventh Regiment came. I went to the Depot and saw Lefferts, who communicated the intelligence of their peaceful passage, with which I straightway gladdened the heart; of the Ancient. Cale Smith was with him as I returned. He was just reading a letter from Hamlin advising the immediate manufacture of rifled cannon from the Chicopee Works. Lincoln seemed to be in a pleasant, hopeful mood, and, in the course of the conversation, partially foreshadowed his present plan. He said: “I intend, at present, always leaving an opportunity for change of mind, to fill Fortress Monroe with men and stores; blockade the ports effectually; provide for the entire safety of the Capital; keep them quietly employed in this way, and then go down to Charleston and pay her the little debt we are owing her.”

. . . . General Butler has sent an imploring request to the President to be allowed to bag the whole nest of traitorous Maryland legislators and bring them in triumph here. This the Tycoon, wishing to observe every comity even with a recusant State, forbade.

To-day we got a few letters and papers and felt not quite so forlorn. . . .

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 24-5

Sunday, May 3, 2015

Diary of William Howard Russell: April 6, 1861

To-day I paid a second visit to General Scott, who received me very kindly, and made many inquiries respecting the events in the Crimea and the Indian mutiny and rebellion. He professed to have no apprehension for the safety of the capital; but in reality there are only some 700 or 800 regulars to protect it and the Navy Yard, and two field-batteries, commanded by an officer of very doubtful attachment to the Union. The head of the Navy Yard is openly accused of treasonable sympathies.

Mr. Seward has definitively refused to hold any intercourse whatever with the Southern Commissioners, and they will retire almost immediately from the capital. As matters look very threatening, I must go South and see with my own eyes how affairs stand there, before the two sections come to open rupture. Mr. Seward, the other day, in talking of the South, described them as being in every respect behind the age, with fashions, habits, level of thought, and modes of life, belonging to the worst part of the last century. But still he never has been there himself! The Southern men come up to the Northern cities and springs, but the Northerner rarely travels southwards. Indeed, I am informed, that if he were a well-known Abolitionist, it would not be safe for him to appear in a Southern city. I quite agree with my thoughtful and earnest friend, Olmsted, that the United States can never be considered as a free country till a man can speak as freely in Charleston as he can in New York or Boston.

I dined with Mr. Riggss, the banker, who had an agreeable party to meet me. Mr. Corcoran, his former partner, who was present, erected at his own cost, and presented to the city, a fine building, to be used as an art-gallery and museum; but as yet the arts which are to be found in Washington are political and feminine only. Mr. Corcoran has a private gallery of pictures, and a collection, in which is the much-praised Greek Slave of Hiram Powers. The gentry of Columbia are thoroughly Virginian in sentiment, and look rather south than north of the Potomac for political results. The President, I hear this evening, is alarmed lest Virginia should become hostile, and his policy, if he has any, is temporizing and timid. It is perfectly wonderful to hear people using the word “Government” at all, as applied to the President and his cabinet — a body which has no power “according to the constitution” to save the country governed or itself from destruction. In fact, from the circumstances under which the constitution was framed, it was natural that the principal point kept in view should be the exhibition of a strong front to foreign powers, combined with the least possible amount of constriction on the internal relations of the different States.

In the hotel the roar of office-seekers is unabated. Train after train adds to their numbers. They cumber the passages. The hall is crowded to such a degree that suffocation might describe the degree to which the pressure reaches, were it not that tobacco-smoke invigorates and sustains the constitution. As to the condition of the floor it is beyond description.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 66-7

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Diary of William Howard Russell: March 30, 1861

Descended into the barber's shop off the hall of the hotel; all the operators, men of color, mostly mulattoes, or yellow lads, good-looking, dressed in clean white jackets and aprons, were smart, quick, and attentive. Some seven or eight shaving chairs were occupied by gentlemen intent on early morning calls. Shaving is carried in all its accessories to a high degree of publicity, if not of perfection, in America; and as the poorest, or as I may call them without offence, the lowest orders in England have their easy shaving for a penny, so the highest, if there be any in America, submit themselves in public to the inexpensive operations of the negro barber. It must be admitted that the chairs are easy and well-arranged, the fingers nimble, sure, and light; but the affectation of French names, and the corruption of foreign languages, in which the hairdressers and barbers delight, are exceedingly amusing. On my way down a small street near the Capitol, I observed in a shop window, “Rowland's make easier paste,” which I attribute to an imperfect view of the etymology of the great “Macassar;” on another occasion I was asked to try Somebody's “Curious Elison,” which I am afraid was an attempt to adapt to a shaving paste, an address not at all suited to profane uses. It appears that the trade of barber is almost the birthright of the free negro or colored man in the United States. There is a striking exemplification of natural equality in the use of brushes, and the senator flops down in the seat, and has his noble nose seized by the same fingers which the moment before were occupied by the person and chin of an unmistakable rowdy.

In the midst of the divine calm produced by hard hand rubbing of my head, I was aroused by a stout gentleman who sat in a chair directly opposite. Through the door which opened into the hall of the hotel, one could see the great crowd passing to and fro, thronging the passage as though it had been the entrance to the Forum, or the “Salle de pas perdus.” I had observed my friend's eye gazing fixedly through the opening on the outer world. Suddenly, with his face half-covered with lather, and a bib tucked under his chin, he got up from his seat exclaiming, “Senator! Senator! hallo!” and made a dive into the passage — whether he received a stern rebuke, or became aware of his impropriety, I know not, but in an instant he came back again, and submitted quietly, till the work of the barber was completed.

The great employment of four fifths of the people at Willard's at present seems to be to hunt senators and congressmen through the lobbies. Every man is heavy with documents — those which he cannot carry in his pockets and hat, occupy his hands, or are thrust under his arms. In the hall are advertisements announcing that certificates, and letters of testimonial, and such documents, are printed with expedition and neatness. From paper collars, and cards of address to carriages, and new suits of clothes, and long hotel bills, nothing is left untried or uninvigorated. The whole city is placarded with announcements of facilities for assaulting the powers that be, among which must not be forgotten the claims of the “excelsior card-writer,” at Willard's, who prepares names, addresses, styles, and titles, in superior penmanship. The men who have got places, having been elected by the people, must submit to the people, who think they have established a claim on them by their favors. The majority confer power, but they seem to forget that it is only the minority who can enjoy the first fruits of success. It is as if the whole constituency of Marylebone insisted on getting some office under the Crown the moment a member was returned to Parliament. There are men at Willard's who have come literally thousands of miles to seek for places which can only be theirs for four years, and who with true American facility have abandoned the calling and pursuits of a lifetime for this doubtful canvass; and I was told of one gentleman, who having been informed that he could not get a judgeship, condescended to seek a place in the Post-Office, and finally applied to Mr. Chase to be appointed keeper of a “lighthouse,” he was not particular where. In the forenoon I drove to the Washington Navy Yard, in company with Lieutenant Nelson and two friends. It is about two miles outside the city, situated on a fork of land projecting between a creek and the Potomac River, which is here three quarters of a mile broad. If the French had a Navy Yard at Paris it could scarcely be contended that English, Russians, or Austrians would not have been justified in destroying it in case they got possession of the city by force of arms, after a pitched battle fought outside its gates. I confess I would not give much for Deptford and Woolwich if an American fleet succeeded in forcing its way up the Thames; but our American cousins, — a little more than kin and less than kind, who speak with pride of Paul Jones and of their exploits on the Lakes, — affect to regard the burning of the Washington Navy Yard by us, in the last war, as an unpardonable outrage on the law of nations, and an atrocious exercise of power. For all the good it did, for my own part, I think it were as well had it never happened, but no juris-consult will for a moment deny that it was a legitimate, even if extreme, exercise of a belligerent right in the case of an enemy who did not seek terms from the conqueror; and who, after battle lost, fled and abandoned the property of their state, which might be useful to them in war, to the power of the victor. Notwithstanding all the unreasonableness of the American people in reference to their relations with foreign powers, it is deplorable such scenes should ever have been enacted between members of the human family so closely allied by all that shall make them of the same household.

The Navy Yard is surrounded by high brick walls; in the gateway stood two sentries in dark blue tunics, yellow facings, with eagle buttons, brightly polished arms, and white Berlin gloves, wearing a cap something like a French kepi, all very clean and creditable. Inside are some few trophies of guns taken from us at Yorktown, and from the Mexicans in the land of Cortez. The interior inclosure is surrounded by red brick houses, and stores and magazines, picked out with white stone; and two or three green glass-plots, fenced in by pillars and chains and bordered by trees, give an air of agreeable freshness to the place. Close to the river are the workshops: of course there is smoke and noise of steam and machinery. In a modest office, surrounded by books, papers, drawings, and models, as well as by shell and shot and racks of arms of different descriptions, we found Capt. Dahlgren, the acting superintendent of the yard, and the inventor of the famous gun which bears his name, and is the favorite armament of the American navy. By our own sailors they are irreverently termed “soda-water bottles,” owing to their shape. Capt. Dahlgren contends that guns capable of throwing the heaviest shot may be constructed of cast-iron, carefully prepared and moulded so that the greatest thickness of metal may be placed at the points of resistance, at the base of the gun, the muzzle and forward portions being of very moderate thickness.

All inventors, or even adapters of systems, must be earnest self-reliant persons, full of confidence, and, above all, impressive, or they will make little way in the conservative, status-quo-loving world. Captain Dahlgren has certainly most of these characteristics, but he has to fight with his navy department, with the army, with boards and with commissioners, — in fact, with all sorts of obstructors. When I was going over the yard, he deplored the parsimony of the department, which refused to yield to his urgent entreaties for additional furnaces to cast guns.

No large guns are cast at Washington. The foundries are only capable of turning out brass field-pieces and boat-guns. Capt. Dahlgren obligingly got one of the latter out to practise for us — a 12-pounder howitzer, which can be carried in a boat, run on land on its carriage, which is provided with wheels, and is so light that the gun can be drawn readily about by the crew. He made some good practice with shrapnel at a target 1200 yards distant, firing so rapidly as to keep three shells in the air at the same time. Compared with our establishments, this dockyard is a mere toy, and but few hands are employed in it. One steam sloop, the “Pawnee,” was under the shears, nearly ready for sea: the frame of another was under the building-shed. There are no facilities for making iron ships, or putting on plate-armor here. Everything was shown to us with the utmost frankness. The fuse of the Dahlgren shell is constructed on the vis inertÓ• principle, and is not unlike that of the Armstrong.

On returning to the hotel, I found a magnificent bouquet of flowers, with a card attached to them, with Mrs. Lincoln's compliments, and another card announcing that she had a “reception” at three o'clock. It was rather late before I could get to the White House, and there were only two or three ladies in the drawing-room when I arrived. I was informed afterwards that the attendance was very scanty. The Washington ladies have not yet made up their minds that Mrs. Lincoln is the fashion. They miss their Southern friends, and constantly draw comparisons between them and the vulgar Yankee women and men who are now in power. I do not know enough to say whether the affectation of superiority be justified; but assuredly if New York be Yankee, there is nothing in which it does not far surpass this preposterous capital. The impression of homeliness produced by Mrs. Lincoln on first sight, is not diminished by closer acquaintance. Few women not to the manner born there are, whose heads would not be disordered, and circulation disturbed, by a rapid transition, almost instantaneous, from a condition of obscurity in a country town to be mistress of the White House. Her smiles and her frowns become a matter of consequence to the whole American world. As the wife of the country lawyer, or even of the congressman, her movements were of no consequence. The journals of Springfield would not have wasted a line upon them. Now, if she but drive down Pennsylvania Avenue, the electric wire thrills the news to every hamlet in the Union which has a newspaper; and fortunate is the correspondent who, in a special despatch, can give authentic particulars of her destination and of her dress. The lady is surrounded by flatterers and intriguers, seeking for influence or such places as she can give. As Selden says, “Those who wish to set a house on fire begin with the thatch.”

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, p. 50-4

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

The President’s Visit to the French Frigate

Saturday last was quite a gala day at the Washington Navy Yard. The appearance for the first time of a French vessel of war in the “Eastern Branch,” with the tri-colored flag floating in the breeze, attracted unusual observation, and awakened in many minds reminiscences of that early friend to American independence, the Marquis de Lafayette, and subsequent stirring events well calculated to quicken patriotic ardor and admiration. In compliment to our visitor, the “Star Spangled Banner” was handsomely displayed on every steam and other vessel moored at the Navy Yard, and early in the afternoon various quiet preparations indicated that ceremonies of a more extensive character were about to take place.

The full Marine Band, and the fine body of men composing the Navy Yard guard, paraded in their new and elegant uniform. The heavy ordnance of the station was charged for salute – everything was in readiness for the highest honors. About three o’clock the President of the United States, accompanied by Mrs. Lincoln and her sister (Mrs. Edwards), arrived. In a few moments arrived the carriage in which were seated the Hon. Wm. H. Seward, Secretary of State, F. W. Seward, Esq., Assistant Secretary; and Mrs. F. W. Seward. Next came the Count Mercier, Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary of France, and suite. The distinguished visitors drove immediately through the principal avenue of the station to the piers, where the President and his friends were handsomely received by Capt. Dahlgren.

The arrival of the gallant Admiral Reynaud, of the French Navy, on Saturday, without any previous knowledge of his visit, was especially gratifying to all, and he promptly availed himself of the opportunity to renew the evidences of his high regard for the American nation and the American President, with his Minister of State.

Mrs. Lincoln and her sister, still depressed by the recent domestic affliction, preferred remain in their carriage during the ceremony.

The distinguished party, accompanied by Capt. Dahlgren, proceeded to the French vessel of war Gassendi, Capt. Gautier. On reaching her side, President Lincoln was received and welcomed in elegant and enthusiastic style by Admiral Reynaud, when these courtesies were extended to the Hon. Secretary of State and other visitors. The yards of the Gassendi were manned by her gallant tars. The American ensign was thrown to the evening breeze “from the main,” the post of honor, and a salute of twenty-one guns from the steamer’s cannon reverberated through the length and breadth of the national capital, whilst bands of music poured fourth national airs.

The salute from the broadside of the Gassendi was quickly responded to by the Navy Yard batteries. The French commander had spared no pains to render the ceremonies on his part equal to those observed on any similar occasion to their own Emperor.

The interview was of the most gratifying character. During the conversation, one of the French officers remarked that this was the first visit of a French war vessel since America was a nation, and the first visit of an American President to a foreign flag.

After some time had passed in conversation and the visitors were about to retire, the honor of a salute was repeated and again responded to.

President Lincoln availed himself of the opportunity to accompany Capt. Dahlgren on a little sail in the “cutter” round the iron-clad target now being constructed near the Yard. – The Navy Yard looked very fine; seventeen hundred mechanics remain in employ. – National Intelligencer

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, May 3, 1862, p. 3