Part 27

Farragut was a bright, intelligent boy, with an honest, pleasant face, and though he was short, he stood very erect and always held his head very high.

"I cannot afford to lose any of my inches," he always said.

One day he was introduced to the Secretary of the Navy, who after asking him many questions, was so delighted with the boy's quick answers that he patted him on the head, saying:

"My boy, when you are ten years old, I shall make you a midshipman in the navy."

That promise seemed too good to be true to young Farragut, who was then nine and a half years old, but the Secretary of the Navy did not forget it but kept his word, and the appointment came promptly, putting the boy in a seventh heaven of anticipation. Then the arrangement was made that he was to go with Capt. Porter, and on that October day of 1812 when the Essex sailed out of the Delaware river, the young midshipman stood in all his proud splendour of uniform beside the Captain who was already his ideal of a naval hero.

For several months the Essex cruised about in the Atlantic, during which time Captain Porter was able to capture some English vessels, among them the Alert, and the Essex was crowded with prisoners taken from the prize ships.

One night when young Farragut lay apparently asleep, but in reality listening and watching, the coxswain of the Alert came to his hammock with a pistol in hand. Farragut scarcely breathed until he had passed by, then noiselessly the young midshipman crept to the cabin where Captain Porter was, aroused him and told him what he had seen. The Captain sprang from his cot, crying "Fire! Fire!" The sailors rushed on deck at the cry, and the rebels were in irons almost before they knew what had happened, while to young Farragut belonged the credit of having averted a mutiny.

Months passed, and still Captain Porter had not been able to find the American squadron, so he decided to make a trip around Cape Horn, and cruise about on the Pacific, which decision pleased young Farragut, as he was eager for an experience of real sea life. And he certainly had it. The weather was bitterly cold, and for twenty-one days the ship was lashed by terrific gales, by the end of which time the provisions were almost gone, and each man had only a small daily allowance of bread and water, which was not a light experience, with appetites whetted by salt air and hard work. After rounding the cape, Captain Porter sailed north along the west coast of South America and stopped at an island near the coast of Chili, and here all the sailors went ashore with their guns, and killed some wild hogs and horses, and even the horse-flesh they ate with keen relish, after being so long without fresh meat. Then for months they cruised about in the Pacific, and as he had done in the Atlantic cruise, so in the Pacific, Captain Porter captured several English vessels and also warned some American whaling ships of danger. These had been at sea for so long that they had not even heard of the war. Every now and again the Essex stopped at an island where the sailors could kill seals, or when they anchored in a bay, they fished for cod, and at one island where they stayed for quite a while, they found prickly pears to eat, and killed pigeons which the cook on the Essex made into pies, and turtles which they caught were made into soup, and the salt air and the free vigorous life gave them all ravenous appetites, and young Farragut felt the keenest joy of living which he had ever experienced.

On that island where they stayed so long they found a curious post-office--a link connecting whoever should discover it with the outer world of passing men and vessels. It was just a box nailed to a tree, where messages or letters could be left to be picked up by other vessels which happened to be going in the right direction to carry them.

A far cry indeed from that island post-box to the wireless stations of to-day, flashing news from sea to land--from land to sea!

At last in May, 1813, the Essex sailed away from the island, and soon more English vessels were sighted and captured. One of these prizes Captain Porter wished to have taken to Valparaiso, and as through all the long cruise he had kept a watchful eye on young Farragut, he now determined to put the boy's ability to a hard test.

Farragut was then only twelve years old, just think of it,--twelve years old, but the Captain put him in charge of the captured vessel, while its grey-haired old captain was required to navigate it to Valparaiso under Farragut's command.

The charge of such a vessel on such a trip was no light matter for a boy to undertake, and Farragut's joy and pride fairly oozed from every inch of his alert figure, beamed from every feature of his face. The old captain of the ship, in none too good a humour at having been captured by the Americans, was still more angry at being obliged to take orders from a mere child, and tried to ignore him, but as Farragut paid no heed to his snubs, he tried a different method. When Farragut gave orders that "the maintop-sail be filled away," the captain answered that he would shoot any man who dared to touch a rope without his orders, and then went below to get his pistols. There wasn't a moment to lose. Instantly Farragut called one of his men, and told him what had happened and what he wanted done, and his frank manner and words accomplished what no amount of commands would have done.

"Aye, aye, sir!" answered the faithful seaman, and at once prepared to obey the order, while Farragut sent down word to the rebellious captain not to come on deck with a pistol if he did not wish to go overboard.

There was no question from that moment as to who was master of the vessel, while the boy was greatly admired for his bravery which had been equal to such an emergency, and the vessel was brought safely into port by the young commander, who then went back to the Essex, proud in the fact of having accomplished the task assigned him.

On his return, Captain Porter had decided to go at once to some islands far out in the Pacific, where he could refit the Essex, and so they sailed in that direction, and when near the islands they were sighted by some of the natives who paddled out in a canoe to meet them, and eagerly invited the sailors ashore, promising them fruit and other provisions. The natives were indeed a strange sight to the eyes of the American boys, for their bodies were heavily tattooed, and gaily ornamented with feathers in true barbaric fashion, but they were very friendly and during the six weeks while the ship was being refitted, although the American sailors were given lessons daily by the chaplain of the Essex, when the lesson was over, they were allowed to mingle freely with the islanders, and Farragut learned many new things from them, things which were afterwards invaluable to him. To the islanders, swimming was as natural and as easy as walking, and although David never became as proficient in this as his new friends, still he learned to swim easily and fast, and too, they taught him how to walk on stilts, and how to use a spear with skill and ease, and in such sports and occupations, time passed quickly and the Americans were most regretful when the day came for them to say farewell to their island friends. But the Essex was ready to sail for Valparaiso, so off they went and when they sailed away, young Farragut was almost as much developed in muscle, and as bronzed by the sun and wind, as were the friends he left behind him on that island to which he always looked back as an enchanted land.

Two months later when the Essex was lying quietly at anchor in the harbour of Valparaiso, and many of her crew happened to be on shore, two English war vessels bore swiftly down upon the Essex in a very menacing way, and Captain Porter was afraid they would attack him, which they had no right to do, for Chili was not at war with either England or America, and so an American vessel should have been safe within that port.

One of these English vessels was a frigate called The Phoebe and the other a sloop named The Cherub. The Phoebe passed within fifteen feet of the Essex, when Captain Porter, who was standing on deck, hailed her, saying:

"If you touch a single yardarm I shall board you instantly!"

The Phoebe passed by without a reply and then both English vessels anchored at the entrance of the harbour, by doing which they kept the Essex a prisoner. In this position the vessels remained for several weeks, when there was a tremendous gale, in which the cables of the Essex gave way, and she at once began to drift towards the English ships. Captain Porter decided that this was his chance to escape, and setting all sail he made for the open sea.

Suddenly something snapped. Down crashed the main topmast, carrying sails, rigging and even some of the crew into the water. In such a crippled condition escape was impossible, and the Essex was driven back again to shore, where she was brought to anchor within pistol shot of the beach.

The Essex had only four guns that could shoot as far as the cannon of the English. The Phoebe and the Cherub took a position out of range of almost all of the guns of the Essex, and then poured broadside after broadside into the unfortunate American.

For two hours and a half the battle raged, the Phoebe throwing seven hundred eighteen-pound shots at the Essex. Captain Porter and his crew fought bravely until one hundred and twenty-four of their men had been killed or wounded, and during all this terrible battle, the first which David Farragut had ever seen, there was no braver officer on the ship than the little midshipman, who hurried here and there, carrying messages for the captain, bringing powder for the guns, and helping wherever he was needed. Years later in discussing this scene, Farragut said:

"I shall never forget the horrid impression made upon me at the sight of the first man I had ever seen killed. It staggered me at first, but they soon began to fall so fast that it all appeared like a dream, and produced no effect on my nerves.... Some gun-primers were wanted and I was sent after them. In going below, while I was on the ward-room ladder, the Captain of the gun directly opposite the hatchway was struck full in the face by an eighteen pound shot, and fell back on me. We tumbled down the hatch together. I lay for some moments stunned by the blow, but soon recovered consciousness enough to rush up on deck. The Captain seeing me covered with blood, asked if I were wounded, to which I replied, 'I believe not, sir.'

"'Then,' said he, 'where are the primers?' This brought me to my senses and I ran below again and brought up the primers."

When Captain Porter had been forced lo surrender, the wounded men were carried to shore, and young Farragut volunteered his services to help the surgeons, and worked tirelessly, rolling bandages and waiting on the injured men, whose admiration he won by his devoted service; and so pleased was Captain Porter with his bravery throughout the whole battle, that he mentioned it in his official despatches to the government. Farragut himself in speaking of the battle later said:

"I never earned Uncle Sam's money so faithfully."

All of the American prisoners of war were put on board an unarmed vessel, and made to promise that they would not take up arms against the English until they had been exchanged for an equal number of English prisoners, after giving which promise the Essex was allowed to sail for the United States. When Farragut, the plucky little midshipman was taken on board the prison-ship, tears of mortification rolled down his cheeks.