Part 13 (1/2)
”I hope so,” was the reply.
Soon David's pet pig ”Murphy” was brought on board, and he immediately claimed it.
”But,” said the English sailor, ”you are a prisoner and your pig also.”
”We always respect private property,” the boy replied, seizing hold of ”Murphy”; and after a vigorous fight, the pet was given to its owner.
On returning to Captain Porter's house at Chester, Pa., David was put at school for the summer, under a quaint instructor, one of Napoleon's celebrated Guard, who used no book, but taught the boys about plants and minerals, and how to climb and swim. In the fall he was placed on a receiving-s.h.i.+p, but gladly left the wild set of lads for a cruise in the Mediterranean. Here he had the opportunity of visiting Naples, Pompeii, and other places of interest, but he encountered much that was harsh and trying. Commodore C---- sometimes knocked down his own son, and his son's friend as well,--not a pleasant person to be governed by.
In 1817, Chaplain Folsom of their s.h.i.+p was appointed consul at Tunis. He loved David as a brother, and begged the privilege of keeping him for a time, ”because,” said he to the commodore, ”he is entirely dest.i.tute of the aids of fortune and the influence of friends, other than those whom his character may attach to him.” For nearly nine months he remained with the chaplain, studying French, Italian, English literature, and mathematics, and developing in manliness and refinement. The Danish consul showed great fondness for the frank, ardent boy, now sixteen, and invited him to his house at Carthage. Failing in his health, a horseback trip toward the interior of the country was recommended, and during the journey he received a sunstroke, and his eyes were permanently weakened.
All his life, however, he had some one read to him, and thus mitigate his misfortune.
The time came to go back to duty on the s.h.i.+p, and Chaplain Folsom clasped the big boy to his bosom, fervently kissing him on each cheek, and giving him his parting blessing mingled with his tears. Forty years after, when the young mids.h.i.+pman had become the famous Admiral, he sent a token of respect and affection to his old friend.
For some years, having been appointed acting lieutenant, he cruised in the Gulf of Mexico, gaining knowledge which he was glad to use later, and in the West Indies, where for two years and a half, he says, ”I never owned a bed, but lay down to rest wherever I found the most comfortable berth.” Sometimes he and his seamen pursued pirates who infested the coast, cutting their way through thornbushes and cactus plants, with their cutla.s.ses; then burning the houses of these robbers, and taking their plunder out of their caves. It was an exciting but wearing life.
After a visit to his old home at New Orleans,--his father had died, and his sister did not recognize him,--he contracted yellow fever, and lay ill for some time in a Was.h.i.+ngton hospital. Perhaps the sailor was tired of his roving and somewhat lonely life, and now married, at twenty-two, Miss Susan Marchant of Norfolk, Virginia.
For sixteen years she was an invalid, so that he carried her often in his arms like a child. Now he took her to New Haven for treatment, and improved what time he could spare by attending Professor Silliman's lectures at Yale College. Now he conducted a school on a receiving-s.h.i.+p, so as to have her with him. ”She bore the sickness with unparalleled resignation and patience,” says Farragut in his journal, ”affording a beautiful example of calmness and fort.i.tude.” One of her friends in Norfolk said, ”When Captain Farragut dies, he should have a monument reaching to the skies, made by every wife in the city contributing a stone to it.” How the world admires a brave man with a tender heart!
Farragut was now nearly forty years of age; never pus.h.i.+ng himself forward, honors had come slowly. Three years later, having been made commandant, he married Miss Virginia Royall, also of Norfolk, Va. At the beginning of the Mexican War, he offered his services to the Government, but from indifference, or the jealousy of officials, he was not called upon. The next twelve years were spent, partly in the Norfolk Navy Yard, giving weekly lectures on gunnery, preparing a book on ordnance regulations, and establis.h.i.+ng a navy yard on the Pacific Coast. Whatever he did was done thoroughly and faithfully. When asked by the Navy Department to express a preference about a position, he said, ”I have no volition in the matter; your duty is to give me orders, mine to obey....
I have made it the rule of my life to ask no official favors, but to await orders and then obey them.”
And now came the turning-point of his life. April 17, 1860, Virginia, by a vote of eighty-eight to fifty-five, seceded from the United States.
The next morning, Farragut, then at Norfolk, expressed disapproval of the acts of the convention, and said President Lincoln would be justified in calling for troops after the Southerners had taken forts and a.r.s.enals. He was soon informed ”that a person with those sentiments could not live in Norfolk.”
”Well then, I can live somewhere else,” was the calm reply.
Returning home, he announced to his wife that he had determined to ”stick to the flag.”
”This act of mine may cause years of separation from your family; so you must decide quickly whether you will go North or remain here.”
She decided at once to go with him, and, hastily collecting a few articles, departed that evening for Baltimore. That city was in commotion, the Ma.s.sachusetts troops having had a conflict with the mob.
He finally secured pa.s.sage for New York on a ca.n.a.l-boat, and with limited means rented a cottage at Hastings-on-the-Hudson, for one hundred and fifty dollars a year. He loved the South, and said, ”G.o.d forbid that I should have to raise my hand against her”; but he was anxious to take part in the war for the Union, and offered his services to that end.
The Government had an important project in hand. The Mississippi River was largely in the control of the Confederacy, and was the great highway for transporting her supplies. New Orleans was the richest city of the South, receiving for s.h.i.+pment at this time ninety-two million dollars worth of cotton, and more than twenty-five million dollars worth of sugar yearly. If this city could be captured, and the river controlled by the North, the South would be seriously crippled. But the lower Mississippi was guarded by the strongest forts, Jackson and St. Philip, which mounted one hundred and fifteen guns, and were garrisoned by fifteen hundred men. Above the forts were fifteen vessels of the Confederate fleet, including the ironclad ram, _Mana.s.sas_, and just below, a heavy iron chain across the river bound together scores of cypress logs thirty feet long, and four or five feet in diameter, thus forming an immense obstruction. Sharpshooters were stationed all along the banks.
Who could be entrusted with such a formidable undertaking as the capture of this stronghold? Who sufficiently daring, skilful, and loyal? Several naval officers were considered, but Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy, said, ”Farragut is the man.” The steam sloop-of-war, _Hartford_, of nineteen hundred tons burden, and two hundred twenty-five feet long, was made ready as his flag-s.h.i.+p. His instructions were, ”The certain capture of the city of New Orleans. The Department and the country require of you success.... If successful, you open the way to the sea for the Great West, never again to be closed. The rebellion will be riven in the centre, and the flag, to which you have been so faithful, will recover its supremacy in every State.”
With a grateful heart that he had been thought fitting for this high place, and believing in his ability to win success, at sixty-one years of age he started on his mission, saying, ”If I die in the attempt, it will only be what every officer has to expect. He who dies in doing his duty to his country, and at peace with his G.o.d, has played the drama of life to the best advantage.” He took with him six sloops-of-war, sixteen gunboats, twenty-one schooners, and five other vessels, forty-eight in all, the fleet carrying over two hundred guns.
April 18, 1862, they had all reached their positions and were ready for the struggle. For six days and nights the mortars kept up a constant fire on Fort Jackson, throwing nearly six thousand sh.e.l.ls. Many persons were killed, but the fort did not yield. The Confederates sent down the river five fire-rafts, flat-boats filled with dry wood, smeared with tar and turpentine, hoping that these would make havoc among Farragut's s.h.i.+ps; but his crews towed them away to sh.o.r.e, or let them drift out to sea.
Farragut now made up his mind to pa.s.s the forts at all hazards. It was a dangerous and heroic step. If he won, New Orleans must fall; if he failed--but he must not fail. Two gunboats were sent to cut the chain across the river. All night long the commander watched with intense anxiety the return of the boats, which under a galling fire had succeeded in breaking the chain, and thus making a pa.s.sage for the fleet.
At half past three o'clock on the morning of April 24, the fleet was ready to start. The _Cayuga_ led off the first division of eight vessels. Both forts opened fire. In ten minutes she had pa.s.sed beyond St. Philip only to be surrounded by eleven Confederate gunboats. The _Varuna_ came to her relief, but was rammed by two Southern boats, and sunk in fifteen minutes. The _Mississippi_ encountered the enemy's ram, _Mana.s.sas_, riddled her with shot, and set her on fire, so that she drifted below the forts and blew up.
Then the centre division, led by the _Hartford_, pa.s.sed into the terrific fire. First she grounded in avoiding a fire-raft; then a Confederate ram pushed a raft against her, setting her on fire; but Farragut gave his orders as calmly as though not in the utmost peril.
The flames were extinguished, and she steamed on, doing terrible execution with her sh.e.l.ls. Then came the last division, led by the _Sciota_, and Commander Porter's gunboats. In the darkness, lighted only by the flashes of over two hundred guns, the fleet had cut its way to victory, losing one hundred and eighty-four in killed and wounded.