Frankford Arsenal
A beautiful staircase in the abandoned Frankford Arsenal buildings
Updated December 6, 2024 | By Matthew Christopher
The Frankford Arsenal in Philadelphia is one of the oldest and most significant munition production facilities in the United States. With another war with Britain looming on the horizon, Congress founded the Ordnance Department in 1812 to manufacture, distribute, repair, and store weapons and ammunition. One of their first responsibilities was continuing to establish a network of arsenal buildings across the country, and Philadelphia was a natural choice. Aside from its status as a major city that had recently been the nation’s capitol, Philadelphia’s river seaport was easily defended in wartime, had strong established trade ties and infrastructure, and was close to the Du Pont‘s black powder yards along the Brandywine River. Construction on the Frankford Arsenal on 20 acres of land began along the Bridesburg Channel in 1816 and continued until 1818, although more land and buildings would be continually added over the next century. The first permanent structure was the wharf, which was followed by “3 officer’s quarters, Arsenal, barracks, shops, storehouses, saddler’s shop, mess hall, and a kitchen” laid out around an open square for parades, according to the comprehensive Historic American Engineering Record (HAER) document that was the source for much of my research and a wealth of information for those wishing to delve deeper.
Three more acres and several more buildings were added in 1835-36, and in the 1840s the purpose of the arsenal expanded from storage and repair to include manufacturing percussion caps and compression machines with an output of 40,000 lead balls daily. In 1852 a dedicated percussion cap factory complete with its own boilers, lathes, finishing rooms, tin shop, and steam engines was built, and by 1857 the Frankford Arsenal manufactured “bags, boxes, tins cases, caps, milling machines, friction tubes” (HAER) as well as the machinery necessary to make ordnance. The Civil War saw the arsenal’s utility expand even further: fuses, muskets, and gages for the US Army were added to the production lines, as was a rolling mill to create brass and copper cartridge cases.
A large open room bears remnants of Frankford Arsenal's days in use.
After the Civil War operations were scaled back somewhat, but the Frankford Arsenal was still a vital piece of Army infrastructure, eventually becoming its sole manufacturer of cartridges, an explosive testing center, and a research facility where trials for many new types of weaponry including the Gatling Gun took place. An 1892 Philadelphia Times article described the Frankford Arsenal as “Uncle Sam’s strong right arm”, covering 70 acres and producing 7 million cartridges annually as well as “ball and blank for revolver, rifle, and carbine; fuses for shell and shrapnel, primers for firing cannon, both friction and electric; instruments for the inspection of cannon and projectiles, and shrapnel for field guns.” It was a world leader in research and development in precision instruments, explosive bullets, targets, primers, and sights, and a significant contributor to the evolution of line manufacturing techniques.
Production predictably ramped up again for World War I, despite a flap in 1917 over defective ammunition caused by minute quantities of potassium bromate and free sulphur in the manufacturing of rifle cartridges. These munitions constituted a third of all the cartridges in France, causing “miss-fires” and hang-fires”, and the incident prompted a recall, increased vigilance, and a pledge of loyalty signed by 5,000 workers at the arsenal sent to the President of the United States himself.
World War II saw an enormous expansion at the Frankford Arsenal, which by that point employed 22,000 workers and manufactured all the ammunition for the government – a staggering nine million cartridges daily - until private companies began production. The campus was known as “the Street That Beat Hitler”, and among other breakthroughs developed the recoilless rifle. There was a lull between World War II and the Korean War, but there was still a good chance that if you were shot by the US Army, this was where the bullet came from.
The mazelike layout featured a number of interesting areas like this stairwell.
By the 1970s the Frankford Arsenal was a prestigious testing center, with an Infantry Artillery Combat Vehicle Fire Control Division, labs for spectroscopy, automatic cannon technology, optical physics, and special weather rooms that could simulate “any weather conditions on earth”, such as high-altitude ice storms, for the testing of tanks. During this period, however, the Frankford Arsenal itself became a target.
During World War I, the Army had been charged high prices for poor quality products by private manufacturers, leading to the Arsenal Act of 1920. Afterwards, one of the functions of arsenals was to oversee private contractors manufacturing weapons and technology for the Army, reducing costs and ensuring quality. Private contractors would attempt to inflate prices for contracts by declaring deficiencies in the Army’s design and arsenal staff would review claims for their merit.
In the early 1970s, manufacturer Martin Marietta Co. agreed to produce a new sighting system for tanks and submarines but after receiving the contract - which had the specific provision that they had looked over the designs, found them viable, and could produce them for the agreed-upon rate – they attempted to raise the price. A bitter, 16-month feud between Martin Marietta and the Frankford Arsenal ensued, and ultimately the $8 million claim against the arsenal was rejected. A few weeks later a Martin Marietta Co. executive, Herman Staudt, was appointed by President Richard Nixon to the position of Under Secretary of the Army, the second highest ranking civilian position in the command structure. Staudt also had received a generous termination package from Martin Marietta, and Philadelphia Daily News writers theorized that this payment was to ensure that he kept the company’s interests in mind in his new role, and put an end to the Frankford Arsenal once and for all.
The entire arsenal system was under assault from private contractors – with the closure of arsenals, oversight would be lessened, patents and technology would be owned by contractors rather than the government, and the Army would be reduced to the role of a consumer rather than a producer and partner. Contractors could “escalate costs far beyond anything the Army – and the taxpayer – ever paid before” (PDN). This plan was abetted by retiring generals who took plum sales positions as salespeople for arms manufacturers and executives like Staudt who were awarded high-ranking Army positions.
A reminder in a stairwell that smoking could cause lethal accidents
Though closure of the Frankford Arsenal had been discussed as early as 1969, the Army relented after much “huffing and puffing of powerful figures”, according to the Philadelphia Daily News. With Staudt in his new role, the writing was on the wall, and in 1974 the fact that the Army was considering closing the Frankford Arsenal and moving its functions to Rock Island, Illinois became public. Philadelphia Mayor Frank Rizzo led an effort to keep the arsenal open, and city officials worked on a rebuttal which was delivered one day after a confidential letter that would later be made public was sent by Secretary Howard Callaway stating that the Army had no intention no intention to review the rebuttal and that the decision to close the arsenal was final. In the interim, the Frankford Arsenal was in a state of chaos as workers had no idea what was happening to their jobs and top figures were checking the newspapers for updates on whether the facility would remain open. When vice presidential candidate Walter Mondale made a point of visiting the Frankford Arsenal in 1976 to promise that if Carter was elected the Arsenal would remain open, it seemed there was a glimmer of hope. When Carter took office in 1977, however, Mondale found that the closure had been fast-tracked by the previous administration and there was nothing that could be done to prevent it. Though Mondale expressed regret for making a promise he was ultimately unable to keep and many blamed him for the arsenal’s demise, the process had already been set in motion and the closure was officially announced in March of 1977.
The closure itself was messy: while the Army publicly boasted that staff would be given jobs at the Philadelphia Naval Base or relocated to Rock Island, the Philadelphia Daily News blasted the “phony transfers” and reported that nearly none of the staff they interviewed planned to move to Rock Island for many reasons including an inflated housing market there where the only affordable homes were 60 miles away, and a sense that the community itself was “desolate”. While the Army stated that the Frankford Arsenal was outdated, Philadelphia Daily News noted that Rock Island had been built during the Civil War. Some sources speculated that the one of the reasons the Frankford Arsenal closed and Rock Island remained open was the fact that the Frankford Arsenal did not have mansions for commanding officers and a golf course, whereas Rock Island’s golf course was one of the best in the country. “These generals and other higher officers like the frills. They like large homes. Frankford can do the job, but it doesn’t have any of the frills.” Meanwhile, top researchers and scientists at Frankford left posts in the Army for good.
The last item produced at the Frankford Arsenal was a sighting system for subs and tanks on June 25, 1977. Though this connection isn’t mentioned in any articles I’ve read, I noticed that this was the same type of equipment that the conflict with Martin Marietta Co. was over, and I wonder if it was an unnoticed protest that the arsenal’s designs were in fact valid. Whatever the case may be, the Frankford Arsenal closed on September 30, 1977 and was handed over to the General Services Administration the next day so that the campus could be sold.
Though the roof needed repair, the attic areas were surprisingly beautiful.
The Frankford Arsenal in Philadelphia was always a bit of a mystery to me. While the campus is clearly visible from I-95, access to the grounds is gated off. The parking lot is generally full and some buildings were clearly in use, but others were boarded up. There are few things that pique my curiosity like set of old buildings that seem to be forgotten. I was grateful, then, when someone associated with the property management joined a photo workshop I was leading and offered to grant access to Building 112 (built in 1902) and 215 (built in 1864).
The buildings were both gorgeous and labyrinthian, and I spent a happy afternoon photographing them while trying to imagine what they must have been like when they were in use. Christopher Ransom’s excellent set of photographs for the Historic American Engineering Record (HAER), taken in 1968, were a terrific resource - although I haven’t located any of the buildings I was in, they really do give a beautiful sense of the campus. I’m always a bit frustrated at myself when considering that once it consisted of hundreds of buildings, and I only visited two. But I did my best with what I was able to get into, and two buildings are more than none.
Finding little details that gave a sense of the arsenal's days in operation was a treat.
Currently called The Arsenal, a “40-acre, 40-building condominium campus totaling 881,000 ft.²,” the area where the Frankfort Arsenal used to be is populated with small businesses including a rare books store, food distribution centers, and the Franklin Towne Charter High School. According to the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, in 1980 the site was remediated for “radiological contamination, explosive residues, and heavy metal residues,” and in 2006 contaminated soil, underground storage tanks, and over 1,600 nickel cadmium batteries were removed, as well as a plethora of volatile organic compounds, metals, and other pollutants. Considering the level of contamination and the large scale of the remediation, it’s not surprising that substantial segments of the campus are gone – and, in fact, it’s shock that so much remains, including the open square layout and buildings dating as far back as 1823. Preservation and demolition are deeply contentious subjects in a city that has seen as many significant buildings destroyed as Philadelphia, but based on the (admittedly small) segment of the overall project that I’ve seen, I feel that The Arsenal has done a commendable job of keeping the historic character of the core buildings intact. I’m sure there are people who could make a counterargument about what else should have been saved and how, but given the realities of the commercial/industrial real estate landscape and the amount of rehabilitation and remediation that needed to be done, I thought it was a treat to see the level of care given to maintaining the existing properties and the desire to give these structures a new life.
Since my visit in 2014, Building 215 has been rehabilitated into a gym for the charter school, and there are plans to turn 112 into a shared industrial flex-space with offices and a fitness center on the upper levels. Several buildings are up for purchase or lease for residential, office, or industrial use, and with some luck, maybe new tenants will see the value of being located at such a significant site. Philadelphia is a strange city – it has so much incredible history, and yet so much of it is overlooked, unknown, or ignored.
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