Shakespeare’s swashbuckler Falstaff did not care for the role of hero, for he maintained you had to die to win. Sir Walter Blunt had just been “killed in action,” or if you prefer, he had “died in the gallant performance of duty.” As Falstaff stumbled over Sir Walter’s body, he exclaimed: “There’s honor for you! I’d rather be alive without honor, than dead with it!” Asking Shakespeare’s pardon we may thus paraphrase Falstaff’s ideas regarding death on the field of honor. To be a hero one must be dead, and, we might add, the longer one has been dead the greater the degree of glory. Sometimes, as we look at the monuments of bygone days, we wonder whether our discreet fat friend was not partly right, for he argued that slander and jealousy will not suffer a man to be a hero during his life. We are naturally less critical of the dead than of the living. In our hero worship distance in time often crowns with halos earlier warriors who were not always of heroic Stature in their lives. Debunking biographers are daily trying to prove that even our Revolutionary leaders were frequently of frail human clay. Undoubtedly there are just as great heroes today, alive and in our midst, as ever walked the earth, but a century or so, quite rightly, apotheosizes the man. In hero worship as in love, distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Perhaps it would be better for the “hero” to have been dead some years before the “storied urn or animated bust” is set up in his honor there,
Where through the long-drawn aisle or fretted vault,
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
For time lends a clearer perspective to a man’s character; it allows the passions of the moment to cool down. In fact in the Naval Academy Chapel there is the rule: “No memorial shall be installed in the crypt or window spaces until at least five years after the death of the officer in question.” Sometimes heartbroken—and naturally biased— relatives start a controversy that sends the dead hero through another ordeal often more devastating than his recent test in shipwreck, in airplane or submarine disaster, or in battle.
From the earliest conception of a Naval Academy memorial hall innumerable officers and committees in the Navy Department and at the Naval Academy have wrestled with these ideas of honor, death in action, heroic performance of duty, etc. Without heroics they have tried to define the heroic. Secretaries of the Navy and even Congress have taken a hand in the discussions. The idea of a memorial hall seems to have been a slow development. While the word “Memorial Hall” occurs in the blueprints of the architect, Ernest Flagg, as early as 1900, this part of Bancroft Hall was also referred to in its early days as the Assembly Hall and the Reception Corridor. The latter is the designation given it as late as 1905 by Flagg in his article on the “Architectural Features of the Naval Academy” in the Evening Mail Saturday Illustrated Magazine.
The idea of a memorial hall as such seems to have been crystallized by an order of the superintendent of the Naval Academy, Captain W. H. Brownson, November 19, 1904, in which he requested Lieutenant Commander H. McL. P. Huse to make recommendations for the display of the old trophy flags in the new buildings then under construction.
The more salient recommendations of Commander Huse are these:
In the old chapel, tablets and windows in memory of officers and men who fell in battle under heroic circumstances were mingled with others erected to the memory of officers and professors in no way identified with warlike deeds. Places must be provided for both classes of memorials; but a distinction should be made. Much feeling would be caused by removing from the chapel the memorials that could find no place there if heroism or great deeds must be a distinguishing feature in the case; it would seem simpler to remove the tablets of “heroes” to a memorial hall. In this hall might well be placed all flags and trophies commemorative of great deeds and heroic historical events.
We should thus have a chapel and a memorial hall, each with its monuments, its tablets, and its memorial windows. A third place would still be required in which to assemble all flags and other objects of naval interest which would not properly belong in either the chapel or the memorial hall. Such a place would become a most interesting naval museum.
In order to secure consistent action in admitting tablets, flags, etc., in memorial hall and the chapel, I suggest that a board of regents be constituted by act of Congress, somewhat on the following lines (no appropriation would be involved) : the officer in charge of the personnel of the Navy (chief of the Bureau of Navigation) ; the superintendent of the Naval Academy; a graduate of the Academy to be elected by the Graduates’ Association; two officers of the Navy to be selected by the President of the United States; a recorder. The secretary of the Graduates’ Association might perhaps fill this position.
Memorial hall should be open to the whole Navy and Marine Corps, enlisted as well as commissioned. It would in years become a sort of democratic Westminster Abbey of the service. Its care and preservation would be in the hands of the superintendent; but nothing would find place in it without favorable action by the board of regents.
In addenda to his report, after a paragraph “establishing Memorial Hall at the Naval Academy and designating its location,” Commander Huse adds:
Memorial Hall shall be, as the name indicates, a place for the collection of objects of historic interest in the Navy, such as battle flags, captured ensigns, and other trophies. In it shall be placed monuments, tablets, pictures, and other memorials to officers and enlisted men of the Navy and of the Marine Corps who have done signal service to their country in battle and have sacrificed their lives in some heroic performance of duty for which their memories should be cherished. Merely being killed in action would not justify the presence of a memorial in this hall.
In the superintendency of Admiral Brownson’s successor, Captain Badger (1907-1909), Memorial Hall and the Chapel were at last slowly nearing completion. John Paul Jones, who since his arrival from France in 1905 was haunting the midshipmen in Bancroft Hall, had to wait a half dozen years longer for his final interment in his great sarcophagus in the Chapel Crypt. During these years there was much interest manifested in ways and means for honoring the Navy’s heroes. On April 4, 1907, the Secretary of the Navy appointed a Board of Memorials, which was made up of the chief of the Bureau of Navigation (Rear Admiral Pillsbury), chief intelligence officer (Captain R. P. Rodgers), and the superintendent of the Naval Academy (Captain Badger). On November 23,1907, this board made its report in which it framed the rules for memorials at the Naval Academy to the Navy’s heroic dead. These rules, published by the superintendent March 15, 1908, have remained in force, with minor changes, to this day. In accord with another recommendation of the Navy Department board, Captain Badger appointed a Committee on Memorials. This committee, though its personnel have changed every two or three years, has also continued to the present time. Its primary function is to advise the superintendent and the Academic Board as to the “eligibility of the person to be memorialized.”
The rules on memorials as thus laid down by the Navy Department concern themselves mainly with the question who shall be honored in the Chapel and in Memorial Hall. For instance, to have a window in the Chapel the candidates must be such as to have been generally regarded as the leading naval officers of their time, officers who “in time of war have successfully commanded a fleet or squadron in battle, or who have received the thanks of Congress for conspicuously distinguished services in time of war.” Distinguished service is defined as “highly important and eminent service to the nation; heroic conduct in the performance of duty; death in the performance of duty.” Somewhat similarly, Memorial Hall is reserved for “windows, tablets, portraits, and statuary of officers and enlisted men of the Navy and Marine Corps distinguished for their professional attainments and services in war; or who have died in the gallant performance of duty, or who, by character or example, are judged eligible for memorial.”
This last phrase might be called an “elastic clause,” and was bound to give trouble. For example, the Committee on Memorials in 1912, which was besieged by many applications for space in the new hall, declared:
It appears to the committee that should the United States engage in a serious war, the number of officers and enlisted men of the Navy and Marine Corps, who, because of the fact that they have died in the gallant performance of duty, (and the committee assumes that death in action is always death in the gallant performance of duty) will become eligible for the exhibition of their portraits in Memorial Hall, will become so large that it is within the range of possibility to exhaust the space in Memorial Hall in the hanging of portraits of officers whose names in one hundred years will appear little, if any, in relief above those who served with them, and who were not killed. As a matter of fact all of the officers of the Navy who were killed in the Civil War are eligible to have their portraits exhibited in Memorial Hall.
The experience of the Committee on Memorials has shown that rules are more easily made than applied. It is in the application of rules to individual cases that the widest divergence of opinion has arisen. How difficult it is to apply general rules to concrete cases is illustrated, for example, by the Constitution of the United States, a brief document covering some eighteen pages, whose interpretation has filled so far 275 large volumes of the Supreme Court reports. The voluminous and difficult interpretation of late amendments to the Constitution is a matter of present-day knowledge.
With reference to this interpreting of the general rule—professional attainments and service in war or death in the heroic performance of duty—let us look at the oil portraits in Memorial Hall. All of these thirty-two paintings fall under the first part of the rule, men who have distinguished themselves in war. The better known of these thirty-odd need no apology for being in this assemblage. Their names are known in song and story: for example, Bainbridge, Barry, Blakeley, Chauncey, Cushing, Decatur, Dewey, Downes, Farragut, Hull, Jones, M. C. Perry, O. H. Perry, David Porter, D. D. Porter, Preble, Commodore John Rodgers, Sampson, and Worden. But the rest of the thirty-odd would also seem to fall under the rules. These less well-known heroes are as follows: Ensign Worth Bagley, killed on the Winslow, in the bombardment of Cardenas, Cuba, May 11, 1898; Midshipman Wm. R. Finch, one of Porter’s officers on the Essex cruise; Lieutenant Commander Moreau Forrest, who was lauded for his work in the attack of the U. S. river gunboats on Hood’s army in Tennessee, December, 1864; Samuel W. Godon, who fought at Port Royal and Fort Fisher in the Civil War; James T. Leonard, one of Truxtun’s officers in the Constellation-Vengeance action in the French War; Captain David McDougal, who destroyed the Japanese squadron and forts at Shimonoseki in 1863 ! Isaac McKeever, who covered himself with glory at the Battle of Lake Borgne, New Orleans campaign under Andrew Jackson, 1814-15, where McKeever was severely wounded; Lieutenant John B. Nicholson, one of Decatur’s officers in the United States-Macedonian duel in 1812, also captain of one of Decatur’s ships in the Algerian War, 1815; William D. Salter, who served as a midshipman on the Constitution in her fight with the Guerrière, 1812; Thomas O. Selfridge, distinguished for his work throughout the Civil War; John Shaw, commander of the lucky little Enterprise in her remarkable work against French privateers in 1800; Daniel Turner, who served under Perry at the Battle of Lake Erie, 1813; and Lieutenant M. B. Woolsey, who as commander of the Princess Royal won distinction in the Vicksburg campaign, 1863. To sum up, all of the officers represented by oil portraits in Memorial Hall saw service in action. Practically all of these were well- known war heroes of their day.
So also the men memorialized by tablets in the hall may be classified under the one or the other of the two parts of the rule—“services in war” or “death in the heroic performance of duty.” These bronze plaques tell of many a heroic deed in peace and war, in air and sea and land, from the tropics to the poles. Of the half a hundred tablets located in the east end of Memorial Hall, 25 per cent fall under “services in war.” These are for the most part to officers who commanded ships in battle in the Spanish-American War, or who died as a result of encounters with submarines in the late war, or in action with insurgents in insular possessions. About half of the tablets were erected to officers who died “in the heroic performance of duty.” Some of the memorialized are men who lost their lives in explosions, in target- practice accidents, and in shipwrecks, sometimes in the attempt to shield their fellows or to save the ship, and often at imminent personal risk. Some in the act of saving brother officers, or sailors, or in submarine disasters, were drowned. Three of these bronzes commemorate heroic Polar explorers—Wilkes, Putnam, and De Long. A scant half dozen tablets are to men who had won no distinction in the Navy and who died in some accidental manner or of disease.
Many of the above tablets were erected by classmates, who are naturally more critical than the relatives of the victims of fate. In cases like target-practice disasters and shipwrecks, the exact facts often cannot be established. When a submarine suddenly sinks never to rise again, who but the Recording Angel can tell what deeds of self-sacrifice or cowardice took place in the interval before a lingering death from suffocation claimed the last survivor? In such cases is it not proper to give the dead the benefit of the doubt? Those who knew the man intimately, his classmates and shipmates, have deemed him worthy of honor. When such brother officers say in letters of bronze: “He died at his post carrying on the Navy’s work,” or “His was the spirit that makes the service live,” they bear witness to their belief that the one honored played the game and died a hero’s death. Moreover, in the case of unknowable circumstances regarding the death of the man memorialized, it is well to remember, as one tablet puts it: “They died that battles may be won.” For them sham battles were real battles.
In addition to the tablets and portraits, Memorial Hall can boast of only three pieces of statuary thus far: the busts of John Paul Jones and Robley D. Evans (the latter of whom won distinction at the battle of Fort Fisher, 1865, and at Santiago, 1898), and the full-length statue of Commodore George H. Perkins (noteworthy for his heroism and skill at the Battles of New Orleans and Mobile Bay). Mr. Flagg, the architect, designed the niches in Memorial Hall for statuary. He also planned the great panels for mural frescoes of allegorical subjects. When the ten millions of dollars appropriated for the new Academy were exhausted, these mural paintings had to be abandoned. In fact many other original plans for the new buildings were sacrificed in the interest of economy; for instance, in place of the granite and the stone ornamentation in the earlier work, brick and even stucco unadorned were used in the later stages of construction. Again, some early ideas included the Navy’s trophy battle flags in the decorative schemes for Memorial Hall, the Chapel, and the Crypt. But here again expense was a deciding factor. In 1912 Congress finally appropriated $30,000 for the 173 flags on hand at this time. With this money these ensigns were restored and mounted in Mahan Hall. Among other schemes, for decorating Memorial Hall in particular, was a plan to make a museum of it. This was tried for a while and found to be a failure, not only because the architecture was sacrificed, but also because the museum cases, guns, etc., cluttered up the hall and so interfered with its use for assemblies. Still another suggestion sometimes made was to decorate one wing of the hall with great paintings of war and battle scenes. Thus far three pictures of this kind have found places there. One of them, a rather crude piece of work, portrays the fight between the Constitution and the Guerrière. The others are two of Gribble’s World War paintings—“Rescuing a Seaplane” and “The Return of the Mayflower.”
In 1924 the superintendent appointed a committee to consider once more ways and means for decorating Memorial Hall. This committee made the following suggestions: Memorial Hall should be consecrated as a shrine to preserve the best traditions of the Navy. The decorations should be simple; only such trophies should be placed here as would be consonant with the architectural design of the whole. The best scheme for decoration would be mural paintings, by noted artists, representing the outstanding naval engagements in our history. Bronze statues of our greatest naval commanders should occupy the niches. This plan could be carried out only by a large appropriation from Congress, or by contributions from alumni, friends of the Academy, and historical societies. As an alternative plan, the committee suggested that the recent accessions of battle flags be mounted in glass cases countersunk in the panels. An interior decorator estimated that this work, if done in such manner as to harmonize with the architecture, would cost $12,000. The committee further suggested that portraits and statues at present in the main part of the hall should be removed to the west alcove, which should be a gallery for paintings of naval engagements and portraits of the outstanding officers of the Navy.
As this report entailed the expenditure of money—much money—the superintendent decided the only course left was to continue the policy followed heretofore, that is, to rely on the generosity of alumni, public spirited citizens, and patriotic societies for gifts of statuary, tablets, oil portraits, and paintings.
After all a Westminster Abbey, or even a small replica of it, cannot be built in a day. Those who would create a great memorial must have an eye on posterity. The idol of the moment, raised aloft by fickle popular acclaim, often fades into oblivion, in comparison with the abiding qualities of the truly great.
To build a worth-while memorial it is sometimes helpful to see how others have done it. For instance, West Point’s Cullum Memorial Hall, which owes its existence to the generosity of General Cullum, was completed about the time that the Naval Academy’s hall was first conceived. In fact, the earliest committees on a memorial for the Navy took into consideration the underlying ideas of the new hall at the United States Military Academy in formulating their own rules. Those entitled to tablets in Cullum Memorial Hall fall under the following classes: those who have attained and honorably held the full rank of major general; those graduates who have been killed in action, or who have received the thanks of Congress or the United States medal of honor; or finally those graduates “who by special act of heroism or by reason of special eminence are deemed worthy of memorialization by the Academic Board.” As regards the Chapel at the Military Academy, its great south window was dedicated to those graduates who died prior to its installation, and the north window to those who died in the World War. The reredos is in memory of Generals U. S. Grant and F. D. Grant. The policy for the West Point Chapel is generally in favor of group rather than individual memorials.
As another example we might consider briefly the Chapel of the Royal Naval College, Dartmouth, England. Of the regulations for this Rear Admiral M. D. Nasmith writes: “There are memorial windows and brass memorial tablets. There are no fixed rules as to the admission of memorials except that the person must have been intimately connected with the Royal Naval College at some time. Each case is judged on its merits.”
The Hall of Fame of New York University affords perhaps the best-known example for honoring the leaders of the past. This idea originated in a gift of Helen Gould of $100,000, which provided for the ultimate selection of 150 great Americans from all walks of life. Accordingly, five candidates for memorial tablets have thus far been chosen every five years by a body of one hundred electors, themselves the leading representatives of the various classes honored, for example, authors, statesmen, scientists, etc. It requires a three-fifths vote of this electoral college to make a choice. It is hoped that the list of 150 tablets will be complete by the year 2000. No candidate is considered until the lapse of twenty-five years after his death. Of the class sailors and soldiers, five have been picked so far as follows: John Paul Jones, Farragut, Grant, Lee, and Sherman. Of the two sailors Jones received sixty-eight votes and Farragut seventy-nine.
So much then for the methods of others in choosing great leaders. The criticism has often been heard of late years that there are many in the Naval Academy’s Memorial Hall who ought not to be there. But this criticism is hardly well taken. The candidate has to run the gauntlet of the Committee on Memorials, the Academic Board, and the superintendent. A careful survey of those honored so far by memorials tends to show that these various officials have generally made their selections in an unprejudiced and conscientious manner. A fairly real but extreme illustration of their occasional difficulties is the following: a devoted daughter of a father who went through the Civil War with considerable distinction offers a crude oil portrait of him with the request that it be placed in Memorial Hall. The superintendent finally accepts it but with the understanding that it may not be permanently located in the hall. As a portrait by a first- class artist costs from $3,000 to $5,000, one that is valued at a couple of hundred dollars makes an awful contrast next to a Jarvis or a Gilbert Stuart canvas.
The superintendent of the Naval Academy and his advisers have of course the final responsibility in selecting those who shall be honored in Memorial Hall. But undoubtedly they will be glad to receive from the service at large any constructive suggestions. A discussion in the columns of the Naval Institute will help the Academy authorities in this problem of building a great and lasting memorial to the Navy’s heroic dead.