Thoughtfully curated historical journalism
At twelve o’clock last night one of the state powder mills, that at the old United States Marine Hospital at Gretna, blew up with a report that shook the whole city to its foundation stones. A pillar of flame shot up to the sky, for an instant illuminating the whole heavens, and then came the noise and shock—too great, too sudden, too overpowering to be mistaken for anything than what it really was.
Annapolis, Monday Evening, Jan. 6, 1862.
To day the embarkation of the troops has been going forward. Several sad accidents have occurred, resulting in the death of several men, one of whom belonged to the Massachusetts twenty-third. While that regiment was waiting to embark, several members of Company C went to a saloon. Here Thomas Butler of that company was accidentally shot dead by one of his comrades named William Beecher, who was playfully going through the manual exercise with a gun not his own.
Army Cor. (30th) Cincinnati Commercial.
The work on Green River bridge is progressing slowly. It may be completed this week—but will probably not. It could have been done sooner, but tardiness and inefficiency in other quarters has rendered great haste here unnecessary.
The principal naval recruiting in New York, at present, is for Commodore Porter’s mortar fleet. The two rendezvous are thronged with brawny sailors of all nations, but chiefly Americans. Applicants seems to be attracted, rather than repelled, by the prospect of hazardous service. Every kind of sea-going talent is wanted for this expedition, and a sailor can obtain the position of master’s mate, gunner’s mate, seamen or ordinary seamen, just according to his qualifications.