LATER YEARS AND DEATH.
1864-1870.
With the strong national and patriotic feeling that had been aroused
throughout the Northern States by the war of secession, Farragut had no
cause to complain of ingratitude or indifference on the part either of
the Government or of his fellow-countrymen. As the flag-ship entered the
Narrows, on his final return from the Gulf, she was met by a
representative committee from the city officials and citizens of New
York. Enthusiastic crowds greeted him as he landed at the Battery, and a
reception given him the same afternoon at the Custom House was thronged
by the leading men of the city. This eager manifestation of good-will
and admiration was followed, a few days later, by a flattering request
that the admiral would honor the city by taking up his abode in it and
becoming thenceforth one of its citizens. After reciting the deeds which
had won for him universal applause and thankfulness, the committee said:
"The citizens of New York can offer no tribute equal to your claim on
their gratitude and affection. Their earnest desire is to receive you as
one of their number, and to be permitted, as fellow-citizens, to share
in the renown you will bring to the metropolitan city. This desire is
felt in common by the whole community."
This graceful tribute of words was accompanied by the gift of fifty
thousand dollars, to facilitate Farragut's complying with the request.
The letter was addressed to Vice-Admiral Farragut; the United States
Government, not to be behindhand in acknowledging its debt to its most
distinguished seaman, having created for him that grade soon after his
arrival. The bill for the purpose was introduced on the 22d of December,
1864, immediately passed by both houses, and became law by the
President's signature the following day. Farragut's nomination and
confirmation followed of course and at once; so that his promotion came
to him in the Christmas holidays. The admiral gratefully acknowledged
the warm welcome of the New Yorkers, while modestly disavowing, as far
as he could, his claim to extraordinary merit in the brilliant services
which he asserted were but the performance of his duty; and he
thankfully accepted, as the spontaneous offering of his
fellow-countrymen, the recompense which in older countries is the usual
reward of distinguished military success, but conferred there through
the formal medium of the central government.
Toward the end of January, 1865, the Confederate vessels in the James
made an attempt to descend the river, destroy the pontoon bridges of the
United States armies, and cut off both the Army of the James and that of
the Potomac from their base of supplies at City Point. Rear-Admiral
David D. Porter, who then commanded the North Atlantic Squadron, was
fully occupied at the time with the bombardment of Fort Fisher and
capture of Wilmington, North Carolina; and as the hostile attempt
threatened a very serious annoyance to the communications of the army,
Farragut, who was then in Washington, was ordered to proceed to the
spot. He accordingly hoisted his flag on a small steamer and ran down to
the James; but, finding upon his arrival that the enemy had been
repulsed, and satisfactory measures taken to prevent a renewal of the
effort, he returned to Washington. This slight episode concluded his
active service in the war.
When Richmond was evacuated on the 2d of April, 1865, Farragut was among
the first to visit the fallen capital of the Confederacy. From there a
few days later he visited his old home in Norfolk. Many of his former
friends still retained strong feelings of resentment against him, as a
Southern man who had taken arms against the South. The impression had
obtained among some that, though leaving his old home, he would remain
neutral; and it was even reported that he had said he would take no part
in the war. That Farragut never passed through that phase of feeling, in
the struggle between life-long affections and the sense of duty, would
be too much to affirm; but it was a position in which a man of his
decided and positive character could not have stopped when civil strife
was upon the land. It was inconsistent with his general habits of
thought; and it is evident that, before leaving Norfolk, his convictions
on the particular crisis had already left far behind any such temporary
halting place between two opinions. When he justified to his excited
neighbors President Lincoln's call for troops, on the ground that the
United States Government could do no less, when its arsenals and navy
yards were seized and its flag fired upon, it is inconceivable that the
man who then had such courage of his opinions entertained any further
doubt as to his future course; though it may well be that he did not
imperil his personal liberty and safety by any irritating avowal of his
purpose. In a reception given to him, when he thus revisited the place
which should no longer be his home, he recalled those days and said: "I
was told by a brother officer that the State had seceded, and that I
must either resign and turn traitor to the Government which had
supported me from my childhood, or I must leave this place. Thank God! I
was not long in making my decision. I have spent half my life in
revolutionary countries, and I know the horrors of civil war, and I told
the people what I had seen and what they would experience. They laughed
at me, and called me 'granny' and 'croaker'; and I said: 'I can not live
here, and will seek some other place where I can live, and on two hours'
notice.' I suppose they said I left my country for my country's good,
and thank God I did! I was unwilling to believe that this difficulty
would not have been settled; but it was all in vain, and as every man
must do in a revolution, as he puts his foot down, so it marks his
life."
In the summer of 1865, following the close of the war, Farragut visited
several of the New England cities, receiving everywhere marks of love
and admiration similar to those tendered to him in New York; but his
life for the next two years was passed in comparative retirement,
seeking the re-establishment of his health, which had been severely
shaken by the exposures and anxieties of the war. Though for the most
part unassigned to any special duties, the winding up of the affairs of
the West Gulf Squadron fully occupied his time.
On the 25th of July, 1866, Congress passed a law creating the grade of
admiral in the United States Navy, a position which was of course given
at once to Farragut, and has been held by but one other--the late
Admiral David D. Porter. The following year he was appointed to command
the European Squadron, his flag being hoisted on board the steam frigate
Franklin on the 17th of June, 1867. Without any request, and indeed
without any expectation, on his part, the Government sent the admiral
permission for Mrs. Farragut and a kinswoman to accompany him during the
cruise. On the 28th of June the ship sailed from New York,[Y] and on the
14th of July anchored in Cherbourg, France.
[Footnote Y: Before the admiral's departure from New York he gave
a grand reception on board the flag-ship, which was attended by
the President and his Cabinet and by many of the most prominent
people of the Metropolis, including several hundred
ladies.--EDITOR.]
After passing a fortnight there, during which the admiral visited Paris
and dined with the Emperor, the Franklin sailed for the Baltic, where
the months of August and September were passed in visiting the ports of
Russia, Sweden, and Denmark. Everywhere Farragut was received with the
enthusiasm and distinguished consideration that were aroused among naval
officers, by the presence of the man who had bestowed upon their
profession a lustre unequaled by any other deeds of that generation.
Toward the end of September he arrived in England, where a month was
spent in a similar gratifying manner; attentions being lavished upon him
by men not only of his own calling, but of all positions. Here, as in
the Baltic, every opportunity was given Farragut for visiting all
objects of general interest, as well as for examining the professional
improvements of the day.
From England the Franklin went to the Mediterranean, which Farragut had
not seen since the flying trip made by the Brandywine in the winter of
1825, after landing Lafayette in France. Between October, 1867, and
April, 1868, were visited Lisbon, Gibraltar, and several ports of the
western Mediterranean belonging to Spain, France, and Italy. Everywhere
the same cordial welcome was extended, and the most ample facilities
enjoyed for seeing thoroughly the points of interest in which the
Mediterranean abounds. At Nice he was the object of especial attentions
from the numerous Americans who throng that attractive winter resort;
and while at Naples a special excavation was made at Pompeii for his
benefit. Nowhere, however, did he have a more elaborate and, from the
professional point of view, more interesting reception than in Malta,
the great British stronghold in the central Mediterranean; where the
Mediterranean fleet, then on the point of sailing for the Levant, was
detained especially to meet him.
The incidents of this cruise which most nearly touch Farragut himself,
and have the greatest interest for his biographer, occurred in the
island of Minorca, where his family originated. Over forty years had
passed since, as midshipman and lieutenant, he had wintered at Port
Mahon. During those early visits he had received messages from persons
living in the interior of the island who claimed relationship; but with
boyish indifference he had not responded to any of these advances. Since
that time he had become imbued with the interest men commonly feel, in
advancing years, in collecting all traces of family history which they
can find; especially when, as in his case, they have been early and
completely separated from the home of their childhood and of their race.
The late George Ticknor had sent him an old Spanish book, the poems of
Mossen Jaime Febrer, in which he read the account of his earliest
celebrated ancestor, Pedro Ferragut. Among several escutcheons of the
family that have been preserved, bearing diverse ecclesiastical and
military emblems indicative of the individual's profession, all contain
the common distinguishing device of a horseshoe; and this the admiral,
moved by the feeling of kinship, had adopted for his plate. Drawn by
these ties of blood and by curiosity, it was a matter of course that
Farragut should visit the famous harbor for which British, French, and
Spaniards had battled, and which lay within the limits of his command.
The renown of his achievements had carried his name to Ciudadela, the
remote inland city where his father was born over a century before; and
the quiet islanders, who had exulted in the fame of one sprung from
their race, were ready to greet him and claim him as their own. In
response to an invitation given by them, the admiral, in December, 1867,
paid a visit to Ciudadela, of which the following account is given by
his secretary, Mr. Montgomery, who accompanied him on the trip:
"The day after Christmas had been designated by the admiral for his
promised visit to Ciudadela, in response to the cordial invitation of
the authorities and people of that city. The news of this tour of
pleasure had spread rapidly to all parts of the island, and occasioned a
general rest from labor and a popular concentration upon the lines of
travel. At the towns of Alayor and Mercadal flocks of people of both
sexes had assembled on the roadside to unite with the authorities in
tendering our naval chieftain a cordial welcome, and in expressing their
delight at his advent.
"Although unable to accept the offers of hospitality which even in these
unpretending villages were showered upon him, the admiral heartily
acknowledged the gratification he felt at their demonstrations of
personal regard, and, passing along the excited lines, he underwent a
siege of hand-shaking. At these points and elsewhere along the route
soldiers had been stationed to pay him proper honors, and to tender him
any assistance he might require throughout his journey.
"On his arrival within four miles of Ciudadela he was formally received
by the Alcalde; and a large committee, comprising many prominent
citizens, tendered the hospitalities of the city, and cordially welcomed
him as its guest. After a brief interchange of courtesies, he was
transferred to a very handsome barouche, and conducted forward in the
van of a quite formidable-looking procession, demonstrations of every
kind increasing as he approached this ancient capital of Minorca, the
present residence of many of those who prefer the quiet seclusion of
their island home to the more dazzling notoriety incident to many of the
older and gayer provinces of the mainland. Outside the walls of the city
his appearance was no sooner heralded than masses of people of every
age, sex, and condition rushed forward to greet him, filling the air
with cheers and acclamations. As he passed the gates of the city, the
walls, house-tops, and balconies were crowded with anxious spectators,
uniting demonstrations of welcome with equally expressive shouts from
the swaying multitude who had taken possession of the principal
thoroughfares. One old man of threescore years and ten, with tears
streaming down his weather-beaten face, stamped sincerity itself upon
the nature of the welcome by shouting aloud: 'He is ours! he is ours!
but I shall never see him more.'
"The avenue leading to the residence of Señor Don Gabriel Squella, which
had been kindly placed by that gentleman at the disposal of the admiral
and his suite, was literally blocked with people, and the excitement
rose rapidly to fever heat as the head of the column appeared in view
endeavoring to make a breach in a body absolutely closed in mass. It was
with no little difficulty that the procession forced a passage; and
although policemen did their utmost, and jostled, and crowded, and
threatened, accompanying their language with all the vocabulary of
Spanish expletives, it was found necessary to disembark at some distance
from the hospitable mansion and trust to the humanity of our
entertainers to afford an entrance on foot. But the temporary
concealment of the admiral within the delightful headquarters which had
been assigned him seemed to be the signal for a renewed outburst, which
brought him to the balcony, upon which he stood bowing his thanks and
acknowledging in every possible way his heartfelt appreciation of the
cordial welcome extended him, until it appeared that there was no
prospect of a cessation of hostilities, when, for the first time in his
life, he was persuaded to retreat in the face of superior numbers.
"The excitement continued unabated, however, throughout the entire
evening, and it was not until near midnight that the crowd slowly
dispersed, and the peaceful little city of Ciudadela resumed its wonted
quiet, and its order-loving citizens, unaccustomed to all such sounds of
revelry by night, retired to their own little homesteads.
"During this time a fine band of music was stationed in the capacious
vestibule on the first floor of Señor Squella's mansion, and almost all
the prominent citizens of the place, with their families, called to pay
their respects to the city's guest, making the scene of excitement
within as pleasant as that without was tumultuous.
"On the following morning enthusiasm arose with the sun, once more took
firm possession of the street fronting the headquarters of the admiral,
and there kept anxious watch. I am confident that, had there been an
election that day for Governor of the Balearic Islands, or for King of
Spain itself, the admiral would have been chosen without opposition.
"At an early hour, accompanied by his entire suite, all surrounded and
followed by an admiring and excited throng, he was escorted by the
committee and other citizens to all the places of interest in and about
the city, and finally to the cathedral, in which he had scarcely been
seated before it was literally packed in every part by people, their
hundreds of eyes being riveted upon the pleasant countenance of the
unappalled admiral, who withstood the onslaught with as much _sang
froid_ as if accustomed to such trying ordeals.
"Soon after, the great organ pealed forth our own national melodies,
recalling our far-off land even to those whose knowledge of its power
and glory was limited to its history, and the sparse information derived
from the few Americans who have visited this secluded city."
After leaving the Mediterranean in April, 1868, the Franklin went to
Holland and Belgium, and thence made a second visit to England, in the
course of which Farragut was presented to Queen Victoria, and visited
Scotland and the north of England. In July he returned to the
Mediterranean and made a round of the Levant, visiting Constantinople; a
special indulgence to anchor before the city being accorded to the ship
bearing the flag of an admiral, whose exceptional achievements made it
unlikely that the privilege would shortly be construed into a precedent.
After a short stay in Athens, and a run up to Trieste at the head of the
Adriatic, the Franklin returned to Gibraltar, and thence sailed for New
York, which she reached on the 10th of November, 1868; thus concluding a
cruise which, from the beginning to the end, had resembled a triumphal
progress in the enthusiastic recognition everywhere extended to the
hero, whose battle-won blue flag she carried at her main.
Less than two years of life remained to Admiral Farragut when he
returned from the Mediterranean. The following summer of 1869 he visited
the California coast, where he had not been since he gave up the command
of the Mare Island Navy Yard in 1858. The welcome here accorded him was
as hearty as that extended in foreign countries, and mingled with the
admiration due to the conquering admiral was the recollection of warm
mutual affection and esteem engendered by four years of close
intercourse. Returning from San Francisco to the East, Farragut was
seized at Chicago with a violent illness, in which the heart was
affected. For some days his life was despaired of; and although by
careful nursing he recovered so as to resume his journey, it is doubtful
whether he ever regained the ground then lost. Several severe attacks
followed this one; and although he rallied with extraordinary rapidity,
thanks to a vigorous constitution, it was apparent that his health was
failing. A few months later, in the middle of winter, he consented to
take charge of the naval ceremonies in honor of the remains of Mr.
George Peabody, whose body had been brought to the United States in the
British ship-of-war Monarch, in recognition of his benevolence to the
poor of London. It was his last official duty, and the exposure
attendant upon funeral ceremonies in that bleak season was much to be
deprecated in a man of his years and failing vigor.
The following summer the Navy Department placed at his disposal the
dispatch steamer Tallapoosa, which took him and his family to
Portsmouth, New Hampshire; where he became the guest of the late
Rear-Admiral Pennock, then commandant of the Navy Yard at that place and
a connection by marriage of Mrs. Farragut. It was his last sea voyage,
and he appeared to have a presentiment that it was so; for as the ship
drew near the yard he arose from his sick bed at the sound of the salute
being fired in his honor, dressed himself in full uniform, and went on
deck. Looking up with a sad smile at his flag flying from the mast-head,
he said: "It would be well if I died _now_, in harness." Shortly after
his arrival, an old sailor who had charge of the sloop-of-war Dale, then
lying dismantled at the wharf, met there the admiral, who had wandered
on board. He looked about the ship and, as he left her to go ashore,
said: "This is the last time I shall ever tread the deck of a
man-of-war." This prediction proved true. He passed quietly away at the
commandant's house, on the 14th of August, 1870, aged sixty-nine years;
surrounded by his family and loving friends, including many of his old
companions in arms. The body was laid temporarily in Portsmouth, the
naval officers and citizens of the place uniting to pay every respect to
his memory.
In September the Navy Department sent the steam frigate Guerrière to
bring the admiral's body to New York. This ship running aground on
Nantucket Shoal, the remains were transferred to another vessel and so
conveyed to the city. The final and public funeral ceremonies were held
on the 30th of September; the day being observed as one of general
mourning, the city edifices draped, bells tolled, and minute guns fired.
In the procession was General Grant, then President of the United
States, with the members of his Cabinet, many military and naval
officers, ten thousand soldiers, and a large number of societies. By
these the coffin of the admiral was escorted to the railroad station,
whence it was transported to Woodlawn Cemetery, in Westchester County,
where the body now lies.
To his memory the United States Government has erected a colossal bronze
statue in the national capital, in Farragut Square, the work of Miss
Vinnie Ream. A committee of New York citizens have placed a similar
memorial, by Mr. St. Gauden, at the northwest corner of Madison Square
in that city. There is also a mural tablet, with a likeness of the
admiral, in the Protestant Episcopal Church of the Incarnation; of which
he was a communicant after taking up his residence in New York.