By OLIVER W. LONGAN,
Adjutant General’s Office, War Department.

Visitors to Washington, whether for the purpose of meeting friends, or, as strangers to “see the sights,” are moved by common impulse to find their greatest gratification in all day tours from building to building, and from point to point, where the wonders of the place are to be found, and no ordinary matter can distract the attention from the one object which is the topic for discussion and arrangement through all the indoor hours of morning and evening while the visit lasts. Even the dreary drizzling rain which fairly divides the time with the sunshine of this weather-wise day can not dampen the ardor of the tourist, and on foot or on wheel the round is pursued regardless of fatigue and discomfort. Indeed, there is something of heroism both in the appearance and feeling manifest in the mien and move of the travelers as they walk about the streets or “climb to the dome,” and after the wearied guest has departed and the family physician is called in to prescribe a tonic or stimulant for an exhausted nature upon which the duty of guide has been imposed in the days just past, he will invariably remark with exasperating irony which almost makes the patient determine never again to truthfully reveal the cause of infirmity, “of course you climbed to the dome.”

The purpose being to invite the reader to the “dome” as the first point of view, a few words of description are offered. The dome of the capitol building is a conspicuous object from all parts of the city and affords a standpoint from which to obtain the best prospect of all the city and surrounding country. This fact, and because it fills a picture of beauty in a vista from a particular spot in the grounds of the Soldiers’ Home, introduces it into this article.

From a balcony on the top of the dome, two hundred and sixteen feet from the ground, on the eastern front of the capitol, the eye takes in a scene of which Humboldt remarked, “I have not seen a more charming panorama in all my travels.” West at a distance of nearly three miles is Arlington. The mansion, which was once the home of Robert E. Lee, resembles, in the distance, the “Hall in the Grove.” Behind it is the city of the dead, a home for the remains of about 15,000 soldiers. North a little more than three miles is the home of the living soldier. The clock tower appears to be the only sign of habitation upon a well wooded hill.

As one of the many places of interest which receives the attention and merits the praise of visitors as a spot “beautiful for situation,” a brief history and description is offered to the readers of The Chautauquan, but in neither will there be found any of the mellowness of age which is possessed by old-world places nor of the power which belongs to

The credit of the origin of the movement to establish a retreat for the old and disabled soldiers of the United States army, appears to be due to Hon. James Barbour, Secretary of War under John Quincy Adams. In a report dated November 26, 1827, he suggests the founding of an army asylum. A report was made upon the subject by the Committee on Military Affairs in the House of Representatives May 21, 1828, and another February 27, 1829. Except the collection of some data upon the subject nothing further appears to have been done until in 1839 General Robert Anderson, “the hero of Fort Sumter,” reviewed the work and submitted his plans and views to a number of older and more experienced officers of the army. Their responses indicate the high degree of favor with which they looked upon the project, but their words of foreboding in pointing out the difficulties to be surmounted in bringing a measure through the Congress to give it a legal status gave evidence that their estimate of strategy did not confine its use to the military department. Receiving but little more than good wishes for his encouragement, the dauntless captain (such was the rank then held by General Anderson) went knocking at the doors of Congress, and a communication addressed by him February 12, 1840, to Hon. John Reynolds, M. C., embodying the details of his plan became the basis of a favorable report by the House Military Committee January 7, 1841, in which, after setting forth the usage of the service and the improvement which would follow an act which should give the faithful soldier “the confidence of comfortable provision for his old age when he shall be worn out in his country’s service,” the committee declare it to be a “high gratification” to recommend to the “favorable consideration of Congress the admirable plan submitted by Captain Anderson—a plan which imposes no additional burden on the community, but merely provides that the savings of the soldier, in the vigor of his age, may afford him a shelter in the times of his infirmity or old age.”

Never did an apple afloat more provokingly elude a youth, as with hands resolutely clasped behind him, he bent over the tub of water and endeavored to take it with his teeth, than did the object of Captain Anderson play away from successful accomplishment. The experience of people who have sought the favor of the law-making or executive powers to obtain an object of personal good for themselves or others has taught them that, as old people look over their spectacles to see the movement on the other side, so do the servants of the public over the object presented to measure the strength of the impelling power, and that attitude is apt to remain unchanged until the impulsion becomes dynamic when the direction of view is turned into, and through the matter urged upon them. Something of this character must have been the experience of those pleading the cause of the “old soldier” for about twelve years. General Winfield Scott made special mention of the subject and strongly recommended it in his annual report dated November 20, 1845, and again in a report dated November 3, 1849, he says:

“While the army under my command lay at Pueblo a part of the summer of 1847, an humble petition to Congress in favor of an asylum … for the benefit of enlisted men was drawn up and signed by, I believe, every commissioned officer.… In connection with that petition I beg to add the following facts: On the capture of the city of Mexico, by the same army, I levied a contribution upon the inhabitants of $150,000, in lieu of pillage, to which the city, by the usages of war, was, under the circumstances, liable.” The disposition of this money was accounted for in a letter to the Secretary of War, dated at Mexico February 6, 1848, in which was enclosed a draft for $100,000, concerning which the letter says: “I hope you will allow the draft to go to the credit of an army asylum, and make the subject known, in the way you deem best, to the military committee of Congress. That sum is, in small part, the price of the American blood so gallantly shed in this vicinity.” Quoting again from the report of November 3, 1849: “The draft was made payable to me; and, in order to place the deposit beyond the control of any individual functionary whatever, I endorsed it, ‘The Bank of America will place the within amount to the credit of army asylum, subject to the order of Congress.’” The remainder of the report is an earnest protest against the disposition of the draft (which the Secretary of War had caused to be turned into the United States treasury), and a renewed “petition that Congress may appropriate the whole to an army asylum for the worn out or decayed enlisted men (regulars and volunteers) yet in service, or who may have been honorably discharged therefrom.” Thus, all along the line the history shows the difficulties which confronted the friends of the soldier, while within the citadel the feeling of opposition was strong enough to evoke the following from a member of the House of Representatives, in a letter to General Anderson, dated January 31, 1851:

“The prejudices of the House against the army are strong, and stupid and undiscriminating opposition is made to all changes which do not propose to cut down the army. I am not hopeful of the success of any measure—of the number in contemplation—that looks to the improvement of the army.” This language was descriptive of a most remarkable state of feeling, else the honorable member erred greatly in thinking that in the face of the recent achievements in Mexico the national legislature would strike down the bruised and broken battalions which had brought untold wealth to the people, as well as glory to the national standard. The action of a few weeks later indicated that however strong was the prejudice against the army there was a power somewhere which operated to protect and advance the interests so long and faithfully urged upon Congress in favor of the “army asylum,” and on the 3d of March, 1851, the approval of the President was given to “An Act to found a military asylum for the relief and support of invalid and disabled soldiers of the army of the United States.” The law constituted the general-in-chief commanding the army and seven other general officers a board of commissioners with the necessary powers for carrying out the purposes of the act, and provided for the detail of officers from the army for the position of governor, deputy governor, and secretary and treasurer, for each site which should be established. It gave the right of admission to benefit in the asylum to all discharged soldiers of twenty years’ service, and all disqualified by wounds received or disease contracted in the service and in the line of military duty—excepting deserters, mutineers, habitual drunkards and convicted felons—and required the discharge from the asylum of those who, being under fifty years of age, should recover their health so as to be fit again for military duty. By the same act a specific appropriation of money (including the levy made by General Scott upon Mexico), amounting to $183,110.42, was made to establish the asylum, and for its future maintenance provision was made to devote all monies derived from stoppages and fines by courts-martial, from pay forfeited by deserters, and from the effects of deceased soldiers unclaimed for three years—the latter to be subject to demand of legal heirs at any time—also from a deduction of twenty-five cents per month from each enlisted soldier, giving the volunteers or those belonging to organizations raised for a limited period the option of permitting the deduction from their pay to be made or not, as they chose, but making it obligatory in effect upon the regular soldier. An amendment to this law was made March 3, 1859, which changed the name of the institution to the “Soldiers’ Home,” reduced the number of commissioners to three, reduced the monthly deduction from the pay of the soldiers to twelve and one-half cents per month, and required pensioners to surrender their pensions to the Home while they should remain in and receive its benefits. Another amendment was made March 3, 1883, which made the Board of Commissioners to consist of the general-in-chief commanding the army, the commissary general, the adjutant general, the judge advocate general, the quartermaster general, the surgeon general, and the governor of the Home (all ex-officio), and provided for the pensions of inmate pensioners to be held in trust for their benefit, or to be paid to their parents, wives or children. With the exception of these amendments the provisions of the original law remain in force.

The first commissioners, with General Scott as the senior officer, lost no time in selecting a location for the “asylum.” Parcels of ground on every side in the immediate vicinity of Washington City were offered at prices varying from $50 to $350 per acre. A portion of Mount Vernon was also offered at $1,333.33 per acre. Two tracts north of the city, containing a total of 256 acres, were purchased for $57,500. On one of these tracts were good buildings, one of which, “the mansion,” is now a summer residence for the President of the United States. Additions of ground since made to the original purchase have increased the number of acres to 500. The tract is nearly seven-eighths of a mile wide for about half its length from the southern boundary, which is irregular. The north half is reduced in width by a change of direction of the eastern boundary running westward about 400 yards. The western boundary nearly opposite the same point changes its course and runs northeast until it meets the eastern boundary at a point about one mile and three-eighths from the south line. In this north point nearly all of the buildings are situated. The ground is nearly level, being the broad top of a ridge which, upon the east side just outside the Home grounds, is of quite abrupt descent. A public road cuts off about fifteen acres, a portion of which is devoted to a national cemetery, while the remaining portion is a hillside grove in which, within a year past, a platform and seats have been erected for use on “decoration day.” Within the main grounds a pear orchard covers the “point,” and the first building near it is the library. The building was originally intended for a billiard room and bowling alley, and is the only building upon the grounds upon which the genius of the architect “run to waste.” The main building a few yards south of the library was the first one erected after the purchase of the grounds for an asylum. It was commenced in 1852 and completed in 1857. It is of white marble, the front structure 151? feet long by 57 feet wide, four stories high, with a clock tower in the center of the south front. A rear wing from the center covers nearly equal ground with the front. In the basement are the kitchens, store rooms, offices, smoking rooms, etc. Upon the first floor is the dining room, large enough to seat 340 men. The remainder of this floor, and all the other floors, is devoted to sleeping rooms, and of these—except in the matter of ventilation of a few of the upper rooms—it may be said that they are as nearly perfect for the uses intended as can well be made. Single beds, wire and hair mattresses, clean and comfortable clothing of woolen and linen, clean uncarpeted floors and pure air, a box or locker for each man, make up a sum of comfort for the lodging of one accustomed only to the blanket and the bunk, which is well nigh perfect, and not to be found for the same person in the most luxurious bed-chamber wealth could provide. On the east of the main building is the annex used principally as a dormitory. On the same side are the stables and shops, the former too close for a well regulated institution. Upon the west and next the main building is the mansion, the dwelling of the former proprietor, and now the summer residence of the President. It has been remodeled, and very little of the original appearance of the building which a few years since was almost buried in vines, is left. Directly south from the mansion and main building the ground falls off gradually for half a mile, while on either side the ridge extends in a graceful sweep for about five hundred yards to bluffs somewhat abrupt, but not enough so to mar the beauty of rounded form. Upon the western ridge going southward from the mansion are the following objects in their order: The office building, a one story brick structure, where the commissioners meet at least once every month; the governor’s residence, and next the deputy governor’s residence, both large, roomy, and comfortable double houses of the same material as the “main building,” and of design in harmony with it. Next is a double building of brick occupied by the treasurer and the attending surgeon. These buildings all have a back-ground of woods which extends with the gradually sloping hill to the highway which here forms the western boundary of the grounds. The next object upon the western avenue is a portrait statue of General Scott, which was erected in 1874 upon a point of the ridge, which here extends to the east so as to make one side of a basin formed with the lower ground south of the mansion. The statue is bronze, ten feet high, upon a granite pedestal placed in the center of a mound, around which is a circular drive for carriages. The figure is represented in uniform, with a military cloak, fastened at the throat and thrown back from the right shoulder; head uncovered, left arm slightly bent and the hand resting on the thigh, the right hand upon the breast and thrust under the partly open coat. The position is one of dignified repose. No strain of feeling is aroused in the observer, such as is felt in looking upon the various equine figures in the city, upon which is perpetuated in the figure of the officer, the tension of nerve and alertness which almost prompts an effort to break the spell and give the dead their rest.

Standing beside the statue, or seated upon the rustic bench close by, a view may be obtained which the visitor who has leisure may enjoy for an indefinite time. The city lies not far below. The eye can cover it all at one gaze. The dome of the capitol stands high above every other object—except that shaft of marble which bids fair to soon become the Washington monument—and far beyond is the broad Potomac, whose course is in the direction of view, and carries the eye on and on until objects become indistinct. Perhaps an officer close by may be observed lazily reclining upon the grass, while a soldier stands near him waving in various directions a white flag with a square block of color in the center. Presently the officer takes a small telescope from the earth beside him, and leveling it in a direction west of the city, looks steadily for a minute or two, lowers the glass and apparently writes down the result of his observation in a memorandum book. Looking in the same direction as did the officer the sight will be just strong enough to discern a flag-staff upon the top of the hills on the other side of the Potomac, perhaps five or six miles away. Curiosity may be gratified by a few questions, and from the answers it will be learned that the flag-staff marks the spot known as Fort Meyer, Virginia, the station of the United States signal corps, and the operation just witnessed was simply a practice lesson in transmitting a message by the use of the small flag, the motions of which to right, to left, to front, or by circle, indicated the letters or words of the message. A practice day upon this spot, by the signal men, is a diversion for many an old soldier whose monotonous life is greatly relieved even by a pantomime. A little east of south from the statue, about 400 yards distant, is Barnes’ Hospital, named for General Joseph K. Barnes, deceased, late surgeon-general of the army, who was the senior officer of the commissioners of the Home, when the hospital was built nearly eight years ago. It is a model hospital in every respect, and has received unqualified approval from the foremost medical men of Europe, as well as of America. It is full of patients all the time. It was intended to accommodate sixty, but the average number is about eighty. Some are ailing, some are waiting, some of sight or limb are wanting, all are forever done with the fullness of physical life, and the surgeon looks upon them as his children, whose every want he must attend. Three hundred yards farther south is the portion of the grounds known as “Harewood,” an estate of 191 acres added to the Home by purchase in 1872. A good portion of it is woods, through which are beautiful drives winding into labyrinths for one unaccustomed to them, for at three different points a stranger will be bewildered by following a well-worn track which returns upon itself, and may be traversed many times before some objects begin to have a familiar look. One of these places is bounded by a drive which is as irregular as would be the loop of a lasso thrown from the hand and permitted to drop upon the ground, an oblong irregular figure, from the northern end of which is the capitol “vista.” Through the woods for a distance of 500 or 600 yards an opening has been cut just wide enough, and trimmed just high enough to admit a view of the dome of the capitol, which is invisible from points a step or two on either side of a particular spot. With the aid of very little imagination one may think the eye rests upon the temple in the new city which has been pictured in misty glory by so many artists.

Upon the “Harewood” grounds are the principal farm and dairy buildings. The cottage now occupied by the farmer was, in some of the years of war, the summer home of the “great war secretary,” Edwin M. Stanton, the man who in the war times inspired more fear amongst his subordinates by the promptness and severity of his punishments for delinquencies than ever visited the same persons in the presence of an active foe. And yet when he stood upon the steps of the north front of the old War Department building, now gone down with him to the dust, and tried on that memorable 3d of April, 1865, to speak congratulatory words concerning the news which had come over the wires from the hand of President Lincoln, at City Point, Va., of a broken Rebellion and an evacuated Confederate capitol, his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see that the crowd which stood about and before him was composed of his apparently demoralized officers and clerks who had abandoned their desks and swarmed from the building by the windows as well as the doors; or, if he did see them, his voice was too much broken with the emotions, which were stronger than his stout heart, to permit him to administer a rebuke to those who almost without exception, at some time in the months and years just past, contributed their share to the result, and many had brought away the marks of the sacrifice.

The work of farming is confined to the products of a market garden, which can not be purchased for the purposes of the Home in as good condition as they can be raised upon the ground. The dairy is the most important institution of the Home, and the herd of from forty to fifty Alderney and Holstein cattle is by no means the least amongst the matters of interest to be seen upon the grounds. The work of the dairy is done by men. The cooking for the inmates, nursing the sick, and indeed all the indoor work usually done by women is done by men. Some of the employes are “civilians,” so called to distinguish them from inmates who are employed upon light work.

There are five principal gates or entrances to the Home grounds; two upon the east side and three upon the west side. At each is a lodge and a gate-keeper. The first on the east is the Harewood gate, entering upon the grounds already mentioned, of the same name. From it the “East drive,” after a serpentine course westward for about 500 yards up a pretty sharp grade, turns northward, and as it passes along east of the central portion of the grounds affords the finest view of the open country, the drive being upon high ground and the view unobstructed across the entire place. From the same gate “Corcoran Avenue,” flanked on both sides by magnificent rows of shade trees, leads into the woods. “Sherman” gate is near the north point opposite the cemetery; “Scott” gate, or as familiarly known, “Eagle” gate because of the immense iron eagles upon the gate pillars, is directly opposite “Sherman” gate, and both lead to the buildings only a few steps distant. There is a large gate a few steps west of the Scott statue so little used as not to be dignified with a name. The most important gate is one nearest the city upon the west side. It is reached by an avenue from “Seventh Street Road,” a continuation of the most important street running north and south in Washington. The avenue is the property of the Home, although the land on either side is owned by private parties. It is called “Whitney Avenue,” and the gate bears the same name. The ornaments upon the gate pillars or piers, which are of brick capped with stone, are large vases said to be copies of a vase designed by Thorwaldsen. The first view upon entering this gate is the one which may properly be called the “prettiest” when the word is used as meaning an appearance which gives momentary pleasure, but may not be remembered as one would remember the scenery and lake at Chautauqua. About two hundred feet from the gate are two little lakes which serve to assure the visitor that there really is real water on the place. By artificial means one of these lakes is held at a level about ten feet above the other, and by pipes carried to the center of the lower, a pretty, single jet fountain is formed. The north end of the upper lake is crossed by a substantial iron bridge, and the south end of the lower one is covered by a short granite span. Between the two all effort to find any satisfaction in the waste (?) of water is futile. But for miniatures they are really pretty, and with the three swans bumping up against the green shore as they float backward and swim forward, the half dozen white ducks with their heads in the mud and their dozen red legs and feet in the air in active effort to kick themselves farther into the mud, and the two wild geese, domesticated by the loss of part of a pinion each, as they stand sullenly by looking like fettered savages, all combine to afford a diversion which may not be found anywhere else by the visitor.

The drives throughout the grounds will afford a ride of ten or eleven miles without going twice over the same spot, except at crossings. They are beautiful, hard, well kept, graveled courses. The gutters are models, and of themselves works of beauty, as they are paved with selected stone, nearly white, nearly of a size, and none much larger than a large egg, all in their natural form or shape. But it all affords but little genuine good to the old soldier. If he ventures out upon the road his walk is beset with dangers, and a sudden fright from a dashing team almost upon him drives away all gratification he might receive by looking from a place of safety upon the handsome equipages whirling by. Except the “short cuts” through the grass—and these are few and under prohibition—there is but one foot-path of any length in the grounds, and that is of brick, between the main building and the hospital. In most cases, to traverse this, is not even a matter of melancholy pleasure. The many privileges ready made for the citizens of Washington, without care or cost to them, are no doubt appreciated by them, but if a due weight of appreciation could be given to the cost, both original in money and cumulative in deprivation to those whose right it is to use them, the use of extended drives in a beautiful park away from the heat and dust of the streets, and yet so near as to be at the door, would lead all the rest.

The Soldiers’ Home in the District of Columbia is unquestionably a grand institution, and in providing creature comforts, can probably not be improved upon, but it fails to meet a want which is known and recognized by the authorities having it in charge. Perhaps the one word which will best express it is diversion, not in the sense of amusement, but to take one away from his melancholies and permit no reaction. The inmates are men who have formed habits which grew under circumstances of constantly recurring excitement.

They are able to understand that the best years of their lives have passed, and that the best powers of their bodies have been used, while nearly half of the allotted time of life, as measured by the number of their years, ought to still be to their credit, but they feel in some way that their hands are empty. True, they have every comfort for animal life, and in the little red stone chapel, the three services every Sunday are more than they ever knew before as a provision for their spiritual welfare, and they have the same freedom from care to which they have been accustomed through their military life, but each one sees that all he has is shared by five hundred others, and in it all he has no single part over which he can exercise individual control, not even himself. Everything tells him his work is done, and there is no more in the give and take of life over which he can plan and work. Discontent is inevitable, and until some plan is devised for bringing the military service, or most of its features, to the Home, and having there a counterpart of the camp and its duties, not to be imposed as set tasks, but to be taken up and directed by the men who all their lives have been under direction, and ought now to enjoy the privilege of apparent control, a remedy will probably not be found. It took years to overcome in a measure the dislike and suspicion with which the old soldier regarded the Home. It was a manifestation of interest in him which was new and unusual, and by him untried. Progress has been made in the past years toward overcoming the matters which may be mentioned as difficulties in the problem of how to take care of men who ought to be simply aided in taking care of themselves by supplying them to a proper extent with means or material, and throwing upon them sufficient responsibility to create the occupation, which is the greatest need of the institution. This will gradually be worked out, and then the Home will be what it should, a place for work and life, and less of a place for waiting and death.