Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1870-07-15


nuniments Of defence. He was then on ord
nance duty at the Washington Navy Yard, where
often visited him, and was always interested by
conversation. He had brought his family,
consisting Of himself and the first Mrs.
Dahlgren, his sister and his surviving chill
home in washington, and that home was
q comfortable but unpretending house, almost
1nder the caves Of this sanctuary, where oc-
CURED many Of the affecting scenes Of his do
bath school, his sister fall member Of che
church, his wife lovely christian of Epis-
copal education and csnyiction, but who,
eIence, and regularly Joined with him in cur
simpler forms Of worship, while he, himself,
seemed satisfied to be reckoned as participant
bis roof it was my delight to lind most cordial
reception and to mingle with the society
of the family, whose constitution appeared
to me singulariy felicitous. How little
the succeeding years. How little could we
know the part that each wenid have to
act, and the griefs that would wound the souls.
life Of the family. The char acters then moving
on the stage still bore, in q good degree, the
manners OF the old time, and there were not a
mag of the century and recall those closely re-
lated who assisted on the birth day ofthe repub-
lie.
While time was wearing on this patient and
II
nishfng in wealth Of professional knowledge
and experience to serve him in the hour of trial,
and to render still more valuable his contribu-
ton to the cause OF his country i'm the dav of its
sorest need. 1t is true his lot had thus far been
cast In period of profound peace and the
prospect of rising to eminent rank in his pro-
fession was remote indeed. Through long years
of Strengthened circumstances and patient
toll, of noble, heroic fOrtitude he struggled on
bearing the increasing burden of growing
family, and at the same time, by the power Of
to professional renOwn. Notwithstanding he
had been for 80 years in the public service
he had not yet acquired the full and formal
right and title Of Captain OF the Navy. AT
crisis came, and we all but too wildly
recall the confusion and terror, the dreadful
suspense and narrowing uncertainty of that
time. He was still at his post i'm the yard when
every officer who Outranked him abandoned the
cause Of the Union and went over to the insur-
gents. On account of his official grade he could
not, In strict accordance with law, take COM
mand of the place. but it was one of those
supreme moments in the life of the
nation, when the fate of the Republic hung
upon the capital, and the fate of the capital
hung upon the navy yard; and when that yard
vering-ready to be borne away by one of the
strangest infatuations that ever swept over a
great and free people. Then he stood up, faith.
all the technicalities Of rank or order, he stood
stOutly for the starry banner that had waved oyer
him in 50 many breezes under heaven. He as
sumed the command by the necessity of nature
and of his condition, q command which was inn,
mediately after, however, confirmed to him by
the authority of the government and 80 deter
mined and res0lute was the spirit Of the man
using his best Judgment where every thing was
SO bewildering. he selected a small company
from among the employees of the yard, and
quietly by night commenced Preparations for
defence in case Of attack. Yet, with all
his caution, when the preparations had been
completed, the very man whom he had most
trusted, and who knew the whole secret, de-
this perfidy and confusion, he was full of cour-
age; and by the moral effect of his great char
acter no doubt contributed mainly to the pres
ervation Of order and to the safety of the post
ordeal through which we passed at that
which Providence so silently but grandIy
sible for me, my friends, at this time to trace
the public life Of this distinguished servant OF
his country through all his public action thus
are too wellknown to need recital here. There
Is one feature OF his experience, however, which
to me has significance of peculiar interest.
and that Is the sorrow which came upon him
through repeated strokes of family affiiction
or all his beautiful household one
after another was swept away from
him. In 1874 son named after himself. i'm
1851 his son Lawrence, in 1855 his angelic wife.
II
Lizzie, in 1868 his gallant and glorious boy. the
colonel, whose name 1 never mention without a
vivid sense Of all that is chivalric and all that is
thrilling in the young men of our country; in
April OF the present year his beloved daughter
Eva. Through all these trials / have seen
him, pallid with the tumult in his breast.
yet bravely sitting down the bitter grief
fell upon Uric, it cut through the heart of the
father also 1t was then as If he had been
ready to die for his son, and, indeed, he had
already died for him in his soul.
Oh! when for the last time on earth they
parted, on that morning of the Odd OF January.
1864, in the harbor of Charleston, amid the roar
Of guns, and the wild requiem of disordered
If father and son, would come, as now NAV we
not trust, il has come.
Yet the bitterness of this earthly experience
was i'm a measure absorbed in the new order OF
;iusion Of the war. The scattered family of his
early affections could not indeed be re-cOllected.
but Providence was preparing for him some
of the past. In the month
Of August, 1865, he was united i'm a
second marriage to his present wife. For
ss se Rs,Sd o os Ss permitted
without the interruption Of official
and public duty. He was Afterwards placed i'm
of the South Pacific squadron, where
the same qualities which had made him con-
spicuOus before, still shOne in their unclouded
lustre. After this ne was recalled to Washiny-
ton and finally placed in command of the navy
yard, where 80 many years of his earlier life
had been passed, and where he gained at last
his final harbor.
In all that happiness which honor, fame,
wealth and domestic joy, now augmented by
the unbroken company Of wife and little ones.
could confer, he was at last sharing i'm those re-
wards which sometimes come, even in this
world, to a long fidelity. But, alas. how speed
ily do the clouds overcast the brightest hems-
phere. The swift fash, the blade OF death. de-
sends like CLEAN from Heaven, and he is laid
low. Your have heard the circumstances of his
dealt / III not recite them here But Is IT NOT
a blessed consolation to believe that he has oone
to the company Of heroes, Of the noble men who
have written their names on the scroll of our
nations illustrious, tfofs, many OF whom have so
recently passed awse I'D
I know that 1t was not a haughtiness of the
beart-that heart that was, IL possible more
tender and more loving than w0mans heart.
IL was only the isolation which all great souls
exhibit in working earnestly out those sub
lime problems OF life to which they have
felt the spirit Of an almost divine fnspira-
tion. In the serious and solemn life work
of the hero there Is no room, no lei
sure for the Establishments Of lite, no pace
for the frivolties Of mere superficial society He
was indeed most stern in his own clear, strong
sense Of justice, but Of the depth and gentleness
of his affection and fraternal sympathy LET
those testify who knew him best. Let the Wild
owed heart, with her three fondlings and the
oAn HaA knx,s