One Century Ago: What Cold Really Looks Like

Local headlines recently proclaimed that the Hampton Roads area is experiencing perhaps the coldest new year it has experienced in a century.  Thousands of "nonessential" workers at military bases across the Hampton Roads Region are off for the second day in a row (myself included, although I'm still on deadline for this blog post and other projects).  Many of them are busily documenting the snowdrifts and other winter wonders deposited by the recent "bomb cyclone" that made it all possible.  But what did the winter of a century ago look like to the Sailors and other photographers who were working then?  

The Hampton Roads Naval Museum recently acquired photographs taken by a young gunner's mate floating on the York River that show just how cold it got one century ago. Compared to the arctic blast of January 1918, which froze battleships into place off Yorktown and made the majority of the Chesapeake region practically impassible, the so-called "bomb cyclone" that swept through the area this week was a mere inconvenience.

Thanks to a young Sailor named Ernest A. Washburn, who was serving aboard USS Rhode Island (BB 17), we now have a better idea what the York looked like during that epic cold snap.

Two photographs taken from USS Rhode Island (BB 17) have been combined to show the monitor Tallahassee (BM 9), which served during the war as a submarine tender, and the battleship Texas (BB 35), frozen in at the location near Yorktown, Virginia, known as "Base 2" in January 1918. (E.A. Washburn Collection, Hampton Roads Naval Museum)

The battleship Virginia (BB 13) waits out the weather on the York River in January 1918. (E.A. Washburn Collection, Hampton Roads Naval Museum)

When not on patrol or in the midst of training the teeming multitudes of prospective engineers and gunners passing through Hampton Roads during the First World War, the bulk of the Atlantic Fleet, made up mostly of ships that sailed with the Great White Fleet ten years before, was bottled up behind anti-torpedo nets at "Base 2" on the York River, just off the old Yorktown Battlefield.  The area was also home to "Camp Mayo," a tent encampment serving as a provisional headquarters to the fleet while the naval operating base at Sewells Point was under construction.

One of the young officers tasked with gunnery training aboard the newer superdreadnought Texas (BB 35), future Vice Admiral Bernhard H. Bieri, recalled in an oral history he gave to the U.S. Naval Institute:

They took the whole fleet into the York River, behind the submarine nets, in early 1917.  We spent the winter of 1917 in the York River and the Chesapeake Bay.  The Germans were prowling in the Atlantic and sinking ships all over.  So we had nets up, and they put us back of those barriers in the Chesapeake Bay, where we carried out our target practices. The river and the bay froze up very hard.  We had some of the old battleships that were used as icebreakers. 

Meanwhile, Sailors at the the newly-opened naval training center at Sewells Point, about 36 miles southeast of Yorktown, were facing even more extreme living conditions than those marooned on the York.  Water pipes that had just been installed in brand new barracks began bursting and the steam plant designed to support hundreds of new recruits with hot water failed. 

Roger B. Copinger, an officer candidate from Maryland who was waiting for classes to begin at the Officer-Material School, established at the former Pennsylvania Exhibition Hall on the base, later recalled what the winter was like for him and his shipmates:

Shortly after we reported the weather became even colder. The overhead steam pipe froze, and as a result we had no heat in the barracks or hot water in the showers. We slept in our clothes, and our week end liberty became not only a relaxation but a necessity. We would usually make for the Navy Y and a hot bath, or if we had the required funds, we would team up, and three of four of us would get a room at the Neddo Hotel on Plume Street near Granby.

Chesapeake Bay from the Capes to Baltimore was frozen, and while channels in the lower portion were kept open, shipping from the Potomac north was at a standstill. The Navy finally ordered the USS Ohio to try to break out a channel in the upper Bay, but the task turned out to be too much for the old battleship, and she was likewise frozen in.

When we had a few minutes before or after classes we would walk out on the ice which extended from in front of the Pennsylvania Building almost to the channel. This was dangerous because of the thin places or holes, so we were finally ordered to discontinue this activity.

Copinger, who ultimately rose to the rank of commander while serving in Hampton Roads during the Second World War, also reported that several Sailors on their way to Sewells Point for classes in early January were diverted to downtown Norfolk to stand guard over the remains of the Monticello Hotel, which had burned on New Year's Day, 1918.  

Longtime Norfolk photographer Harry C. Mann recorded the aftermath of the Monticello Hotel fire, after which a fire engine remained frozen in place.  At far left, merchants can be seen removing whatever wares they can salvage. (Library of Virginia Digital Collections)

Construction projects at Norfolk Naval Shipyard, just south of the city of Portsmouth, across the Elizabeth River from Norfolk, as well as the new mine assembly plant at St. Juliens Creek Annex, about a mile south of the shipyard, also ground nearly to a halt.

The construction site for Dry Dock 4 at Norfolk Naval Shipyard, January 8, 1918. (Courtesy of the Norfolk Naval Shipyard Archives)

The dangerous conditions did not prevent these workers from venturing out to the new power plant construction site at Norfolk Naval Shipyard on January 8, 1918. (Courtesy of the Norfolk Naval Shipyard Archives)

Despite the conditions, the nation was in the midst of war, and the work went on.

120 Years Ago: USS Texas Joins the Fleet

USS Texas, depicted in a Koerner & Hayes print made between 1897 or 1989 (Naval History and Heritage Command Image via Flickr).

By Jerome Kirkland 

Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator

In August of 1895 the United States got its first steel battleship.  USS Texas was this first battleship, beating USS Maine by just one month.  Texas was built at the Norfolk Navy Yard, spent much of her service based in Norfolk, and was eventually sunk in the Chesapeake Bay for target practice, which demonstrated the importance of Hampton Roads to the new Steel Navy.  Texas's production faced years of delays and was largely outdated by the time the ship was launched, but, like the ABCD Ships that preceded her, USS Texas was still an important step forward for American shipbuilding. 

Both USS Texas and USS Maine were authorized by Congress in August of 1886 as second class battleships. “Second class” meant the ship was meant more for coastal defense rather than as an oceangoing battleship meant to take the fight to a foreign country.  Although USS Maine was originally meant to be an armored cruiser, this role changed during the construction process, resulting in two “near” sister ships. Maine and Texas represented the latest in battleship construction at the time of their design and early construction, but delays in their completion resulted in outdated ships by their commissioning nine years later.  Chief among the “advanced” design elements that became outdated by their launch was the “en echelon” placement of the main gun turrets.  This meant that for USS Texas, the forward turret was placed to the port (or left) of the centerline, while her aft turret was placed to starboard (or right), and not centered like on modern ships.

USS Texas postcard by the Rotograph Company of New York (Hampton Roads Naval Museum Collection).

After her launching, a series of defects and mishaps earned Texas the nickname “Old Hoodoo.” While undergoing sea trials before her commissioning, several deck plates buckled and cement near the keel cracked.  These problems were fixed by reinforcing the hull and brackets supporting the deck.  In 1896, Texas ran aground off Newport, Rhode Island.  After being freed she was sent to a shipyard in New York for repairs, where she sank due to a broken valve yoke.  Three months later, in February 1897, while anchored in Galveston, Texas, the tide pushed the battleship aground in a mud flat.  It took a tug at high tide the next day to get her free.

A Whitehead Torpedo, designed in Britain, made in Germany, and carried aboard the ill-fated Spanish cruiser Vizcaya during the Spanish-American War, dominates the Hampton Roads Naval Museum's Steel Navy gallery.  The original builder's model of the battleship Maine, with her actual ensign as a backdrop, rests at the end of the gallery.  Her mysterious, violent destruction in Havana harbor on February 15, 1898, helped precipitate the Spanish-American war (Photo by Jerome Kirkland).  

This apparent hex would be dispelled by her service in the Spanish-American War.  At the start of the war there was fear that the Spanish fleet might attack the east coast of the United States.  This resulted in the formation of the “Flying Squadron,” based out of Hampton Roads, which would be able to respond if the Spanish fleet showed up.  When it became apparent that the Spanish fleet was in Cuban waters, USS Texas--along with the rest of the Flying Squadron--was dispatched to Cuba.  Here the battleship played a key role in defeating the Spanish fleet at the Battle of Santiago de Cuba.  Engaging several Spanish ships, including the armored cruiser Vizcaya, she did much damage while taking only one hit from a 6-inch gun.

An enterprising yet unidentified Sailor poses aboard USS Texas after the Battle of Santiago de Cuba with a signal light salvaged from the Spanish cruiser Vizcaya, replacing the one destroyed during the battle. (Photo by Edward H. Hart/ Detroit Publishing Company. Library of Congress image via Naval History and Heritage Command/ Flickr)

 After the war several attempts to modernize her were made, but by 1911 USS Texas was simply too outdated.  She was renamed the San Marcos in order to free up the name Texas for a new modern battleship under construction.  In 1911, now named the San Marcos, she was towed to shallow waters in the Chesapeake Bay for use as a target to test the effectiveness of newer guns.  USS New Hampshire (BB-25), a Connecticut-class battleship commissioned in 1908, made several passes even after San Marcos settled on the muddy bottom with her deck still above the waves.  The results from this test helped the Navy understand the relationship between armor and modern guns.  San Marcos continued to be used as target practice through the post-WWII years.

Inspecting damage to the San Marcos armor after gunnery tests (Historic Ships blog).

After being sunk in the Chesapeake, San Marcos/Texas continued to rack up the “hits,” with at least seven ships damaged and at least three confirmed sinkings.  This post-service record far exceeded her wartime record.  Unfortunately, these were all commercial and private vessels that ran into her because she was not visible beneath the surface.  This prompted the Navy to use explosives to force her down into the mud at least 30’ below the surface in 1959.

Although USS Texas was outdated by the time she was launched, she was vital to the development of our modern steel Navy. The lessons learned in her construction and from her sinking supplied vital information in developing steel battleships.  Her service in war and as a target gave many lessons in effective combat skills.

For more about the sinking of San Marcos, please see Norfolk Naval Shipyard's History Matters blog post on the subject. 


This post was written by Hampton Roads Naval Museum Educator Jerome Kirkland.