*

*
*

esting period in the Admiral's life: "I describe him as he now appeared to me by one word, 'ARIEL.' All needed control was that of an elder over an affectionate younger brother.

"He was now introduced to entirely new scenes, and had social advantages which compensated for his former too exclusive sea-life. He had found a home on shore, and every type of European civilization and manners in the families of the consuls of different nations. In all of them my young countryman was the delight of old and young. This had always been among his chief moral dangers; but here he learned to be proof against petting and flattery. Here, too, he settled his definition of true glory-glory, the idol of his profession,-if not in the exact words of Cicero, at least in his own clear thought. Our familiar walks and rides were so many lessons in ancient history; and the lover of historical parallels will be gratified to know that we possibly sometimes stood on the very spot where the boy Hannibal took the oath that consecrated him to the defence of his country."

We pass over the piping times of peace that succeeded with their routine of sea service, shore duty, other duty, leave, and waiting orders; years of idleness for some, of preparation for others, when the true Navy growl, that luxury of the professional sailor, reaches its perfection, and a good practicable grievance is above par; when a cruise lasts three years and insures a long holiday in pleasant pastures. Were they years of indolence or years of rest? Let the history of this war decide. We have only space to notice the heads of our Admiral's progress during the long peace; how he was promoted to be lieutenant in 1825, commander in 1841, and captain in 1855; how he served afloat in the Brandywine, Vandalia, Decatur, Saratoga, and Brooklyn; in the Brazil and in the Home Squadrons; at the Norfolk Navy Yard; in command of the Navy Yard at Mare Island in San Francisco Bay; as Assistant Inspector of Ordnance for three years. This last service especially must have been an invaluable addition to his thorough training. In early life, when a lieutenant, he was married to a young lady, the daughter of a highly respectable family of Norfolk, to whom, through the years of suffering that attended her in consequence of a physical malady, he was always fondly attached, ever exhibiting, it is said, those thousand marks of exquisite tenderness that the strong and the brave, especially of the sailor race, are wont to show to the weak and helpless. Having had the misfortune to lose the wife to whom he had been so devoted, he was subsequently married again, this time to Miss Virginia Loyall, the accomplished daughter of a prominent citizen of Norfolk. By her he has one son, now a promising cadet at West Point, under the promising name of

LOYALL FARRAGUT. Noblesse oblige. The youthful cadet has a harder task before him than any laid down in the stony course of West Point mathematics, to wear his father's name so that it will not seem too big for him.

All this time Farragut was constantly enlarging the sphere of his professional and general knowledge. He has always been a zealous student, and is said to read and speak several languages with fluency. He was ripening in the sun, for the great and stormy work before him.

In 1860, he had been eighteen years and ten months afloat, eighteen years and four months on shore duty, and ten years and ten months unemployed. Of his fifty-eight years he had spent forty-eight years in the navy. And all these years of preparation seemed likely to lead to no great practical result. There was nothing but peace.

But at last came the rebellion. Convinced by Mr. Lincoln's election that the days of Southern rule were almost run, the leaders of the Southern party made haste to resort to that desperate expedient for which they had so long been educating the Southern people. One after another the slave States passed their ordinances of secession, assumed to be independent, seized the forts, arsenals, and navy yards of the United States within their limits, and prepared for war. One after another, in dozens at last, the Southern officers of the Army and Navy sedulously educated in the school of State rights were doing what they called "going with their States." Scores of others catching the fever, and deceived by the conciliatory policy of the new Administration into the belief that the power of the Union was dead, were following their example every day; the tide set all one way. Men who declared they meant to stand by the flag to the last, deserted it among the first. Men who had solemnly declared they must go with their States, refused to stay with their States. Whole messes resigned, whole stations were deserted. The panic seemed universal. But through it all there were some stout hearts that never faltered, some minds that never saw a double allegiance; some true men, Southern by birth, Southern by connection, Southern by association, Southern in every thing but treason, who never wavered in their fidelity to the flag they had sworn to uphold. Foremost among these was Farragut. He was living at Norfolk at the time. Fort Sumter had just fallen. The attack on the Norfolk Navy Yard was being hatched. Farragut was told that his opinions freely and decidedly expressed, as usual, scarcely suited that locality. He would go, he informed those selected to convey this delicate hint, where he could live with just such sentiments. And so on the night of the 18th of April, 1861, accompanied by his family, he left his home and came to reside upon the Hudson. The

next day the Navy Yard was burned, the Baltimore mob fired upon our soldiers, and the war, inaugurated a week before at Sumter, was fairly installed.

The Government now stood fairly aghast at the rottenness discovered among its supporters. Every day some new prop was giving way. Even after the battle of Bull Run the desertions continued, unchecked by any act of ours. What wonder that the Administration knew not whom to trust, when those heretofore supposed the most honorable had failed to stand the test? What wonder that all were distrusted alike? So far as Captain Farragut was concerned, his course had been too decidedly loyal, his character was too decidedly loyal and too well known to leave any doubt. But the Navy was inactive. It had no tools to work with, no ships to put in commission, until our scattered squadrons were recalled from foreign waters, and their thin numbers increased by degrees by purchased merchant steamers, ferry-boats, tugs, or what not, good, bad, or indifferent, that could or could not carry guns. In the autumn of 1861, the battle of Bull Run having by this time roused the people and Government to the tardy conviction that we were going to have a war, the capture of New Orleans was resolved upon. The West Gulf Blockading Squadron, a fleet of armed steamers, and twenty bomb-schooners were to constitute the naval force, and military co-operation being deemed essential, the War Department was to furnish eighteen thousand men, under Major-General Butler, to occupy the city when taken, and to reap the fruits of the expected conquest. The preparations of the fleet were considerably advanced before its commander was selected. Happily the choice fell upon Captain Farragut. He received his orders on the 20th of January, 1862, and sailed from Hampton Roads in the Hartford on the 3d of the following month. Commander David D. Porter was to command the bomb-fleet, and was to report to Flag-officer Farragut and be under his orders.

The Hartford arrived at Ship Island, in the Gulf of Mexico, on the 20th of February, and the flag-officer immediately began the work of collecting, arranging, and preparing his squadron for its great task. It was new work for our Navy, getting a large fleet ready to fight formidable shore batteries, but it was undertaken and executed with zeal. Great difficulties had to be surmounted or set aside. Much valuable time and thought was expended in trying to get the steam-frigate Colorado, drawing twenty-two feet, over the bars at the Pass à l'Outre and Southwest Pass, giving respectively twelve and fifteen feet of water. The Mississippi and Pensacola were not got over the bar without much trouble. In spite of drawbacks, things progressed steadily. The fleet was moved up the river to the head of the passes, the forts were reconnoitred, a hospital

was established at Pilot-Town, the ships were put in trim for fighting the shore batteries as well as the enemy's rams. The most minute details were arranged by the flag-officer, with a care which might well astonish that portion of the public which persists in believing him a creature of impulse, fearless but nothing more. Coal, not arriving from the North, had to be borrowed from General Butler, until the naval supplies at last came to hand.

On the 16th of March, 1862, the bombardment of Fort Jackson was commenced, and was continued with little intermission. by the fleet and the mortar-boats, or bummers, as they got to be called, until the morning of April 24th. Every thing began to run out, or run short: shells, fuzes, grape, canister, cartridgebags, coal, hospital stores. Nothing seemed to come from the North at the time it was expected. The bombardment was severe, as may well be fancied. The citadel of Fort Jackson was set on fire. The cannoneers were driven from their guns to take refuge in the bomb-proofs. But the forts still held out, and a lull in the fire of the fleets was sure to wake up the land batteries again. A council of war was held on board the flagship. The captains had their say. We are left to imagine the usual diversity of opinion; the doubters, the bulgers, the noncommittal men, the men who knew no opinion but their orders; and the flag-officer fingering his sword impatiently, full of answers for every one, implying chiefly and always that result alarming to the nerves of every well-conducted council of war, Fight! Hear the clear ring of his General Order of April 20th, 1862: "The flag-officer, having heard all the opinions expressed by the different commanders, is of the opinion that WHATEVER IS TO BE DONE WILL HAVE TO BE DONE QUICKLY." "When, in the opinion of the flag-officer, the propitious time has arrived, the signal will be made to weigh and advance to the conflict. He will make the signal for close action, No. 8, and abide the result-conquer or be conquered."

* *

Of the preliminary arrangements, the flag-officer says: "Every vessel was as well prepared as the ingenuity of her commander and officers could suggest, both for the preservation of life and of the vessel, and perhaps there is not on record such a display of ingenuity as has been evinced in this little squadron. The first was by the engineer of the Richmond, Mr. Moore, by suggesting that the sheet cables be stopped up and down on the sides in the line of the engines, which was immediately adopted by all the vessels. Then each commander made his own arrangements for stopping the shot from penetrating the boilers or machinery, that might come in forward or abaft, by hammocks, coal, bags of ashes, bags of sand, clothes bags, and, in fact, every device imaginable. The bulwarks were lined with hammocks by some, by splinter nettings made

with ropes by others. Some rubbed their vessels over with mud, to make their ships less visible; and some whitewashed their decks, to make things more visible by night during the fight. In the afternoon I visited each ship, in order to know positively that each commander understood my orders for the attack, and to see that all was in readiness. I had looked to their efficiency before. Every one appeared to understand his orders well, and looked forward to the conflict with firmness, but with anxiety, as it was to be in the night, or at two o'clock A. M."

At five minutes before the appointed time, the signal to advance was given, but some of the vessels having trouble in weighing anchor, the fleet did not get under-way until about half-past three. The great chain which obstructed the channel had been previously broken. The mortar-fleet moved up and anchored ready to pour in its fire as soon as the forts should open. The fleet moved up in two columns, the Cayuga leading the right column, under Captain Bailey, consisting of the first division of gunboats and the second division of ships, and the Hartford leading the left column, which was under the flagofficer's personal command, and consisted of the first division of ships and the second division of gunboats. The left column was composed of the Hartford, Brooklyn, Richmond, Sciota, Iroquois, Kennebec, Pinola, Itasca, and Winona; the right, of the Cayuga, Pensacola, Mississippi, Oneida, Varuna, Katahdin, Kineo, and Wissahickon. The right was to engage Fort St. Philip; the left, Fort Jackson. Scarcely had the advance begun when the forts opened. The fleet replied hotly; the mortars belched and bellowed; the smoke rolled down upon the rushing water; the ships fired at the flash from the forts, the forts fired at the flash from the ships. In the midst of it all comes down through the dense smoke a fire-raft, the ram Manassas pushing it against the helpless side of the Hartford. trying to avoid it, the flag-ship runs ashore. The fire mounts half way to the tops; the ship is aground and in flames. An awful moment, and but for discipline a fatal one. The powerful engine backs off; the fire department, thoroughly organized, works like mad, and presently masters the flames, and all the while the great guns are never silent! The forts find things too hot for them, and begin to slacken their fire. And now comes down the great and terrible mosquito fleet of thirteen gunboats and two iron-clad rams-name of terror in those days, especially in the newspapers, for there is nothing so terrible as your paper-clad-and of these the flag-officer says simply: "We took them in hand, and in the course of a short time destroyed eleven of them." The Hartford was now past the forts. The Varuna had been sunk by two of the enemy's gunboats, destroying them in the operation. What had be

In