After the surrender of the forts, Farragut remained in Mobile Bay until
the following November. His health was suffering from his labors and the
effects of the southern climate.
At this time, the Navy Department requested him to take command of an
expedition against Fort Fisher. This greatly disturbed him, and he wrote
to the Secretary of the Navy that his strength was exhausted.
"I am willing," he said, "to do the bidding of the government as long as
I am able. I fear, however, that my health is giving way. I have now
been down to the Gulf five years out of six, and I want rest if it is to
be had."
When the Secretary of the Navy realized the condition of his health,
Admiral Farragut was granted the much needed furlough.
Leaving his squadron in charge of an efficient officer, he sailed north
in November, 1864. As his flagship entered New York harbor, it was met
by a committee of city officials and citizens. Enthusiastic crowds
greeted him as he landed, and a reception in his honor was held at the
custom-house.
A few days later, a committee of citizens sent him a request to make his
home in New York. With this request came a gift of $50,000. In December,
Congress created for him the grade of vice-admiral. All these honors
were gratefully and modestly acknowledged by him.
In the spring of 1865 peace was declared, and Admiral Farragut went for
a visit to Norfolk. He found that many of his old acquaintances still
felt very unfriendly towards him for having taken up arms against the
South. Although this pained him deeply, he said that he had never
regretted having done his duty.
In 1866, the government gave him the title of Admiral. This title made
him commander of the whole American navy. It was a rank created
especially for him. The government could give him no higher honor.
In 1867, he was appointed commander of the European squadron. Without
any request from him, the government sent permission for Mrs. Farragut
to accompany him on this cruise. On June 28th, they sailed from New York
on the steam frigate _Franklin_.
This foreign cruise was more like the triumphal progress of a king than
the official visit of a naval commander. He dined with the emperor of
France and the queen of England. He visited the ports of Russia,
Holland, and Belgium. He sailed again through the blue Mediterranean,
visiting the places he had seen on his former cruise. A special
excavation of the buried Pompeii was made for his benefit. At Malta, a
grand reception was held in his honor.
But most of all, he enjoyed a visit to his father's Spanish birthplace.
This was in the island of Minorca, just off the eastern coast of Spain.
He was to visit the little city on the day before Christmas. The news of
his coming had spread rapidly to all parts of the island, and a general
holiday had been proclaimed.
At every village on the way crowds of men and women came to meet him and
bid him welcome. All along the route soldiers had been stationed to pay
him honor, and give him any assistance that he might need.
Four miles from the city gates he was met by a large committee of
citizens, and transferred to a handsome carriage.
The city walls, housetops, and balconies were crowded with men, women,
and children. One old man, with tears streaming down his face, shouted:
"He is ours! He is ours!"
The admiral was entertained at the mansion of one of the prominent
citizens. A band of music played in the vestibule, while the people came
in crowds.
Early the next day, surrounded by an excited throng, he was escorted to
all the places of interest. They finally went to the great cathedral,
where the organ pealed forth the American national airs.
This was the last place the admiral visited before his return to
America. He landed in New York, November 10th, 1868.
The following summer, he made a trip to the Pacific coast, to visit the
navy yard at Mares Island. You will remember that, years before, he had
laid the foundations of this navy yard.
Returning from San Francisco to the East, he was taken very ill in
Chicago. By careful nursing he was able to resume the journey. But he
never regained his lost strength, and his health continued steadily to
fail.
The following summer the Navy Department placed a steamer at his
disposal, and with his family he visited Portsmouth, New Hampshire.
This was his last sea voyage. As the ship came into harbor, he arose
from his sick bed at the sound of the salute being fired in his honor.
Dressed in full uniform, he went on deck. Looking up with a sad smile at
his flag flying from the masthead, he said: "It would be well if I died
_now_ in harness."
Shortly after his arrival he wandered on board a dismantled sloop, lying
at the wharf. He looked about the ship, and, as he left her to go
ashore, he said: "This is the last time I shall ever tread the deck of a
man of war."
This proved to be true. On August 14th, 1870, surrounded by his family
and loving friends, he died. He was sixty-nine years old.
The government sent a steam frigate to take his body to New York. On the
day of his funeral, the whole city was in mourning. The buildings were
draped in black. Bells were tolled and guns fired.
His body was laid in Woodlawn Cemetery. Heading the procession was
General Grant, then the President of the United States. Following were
many military and naval officers, and thousands of soldiers.
The government erected a bronze statue in his honor. This is in the
national capital, in Farragut Square.
Thus ends the story of the life of America's first admiral, the story of
a man who won fame and glory by constant effort for self-improvement and
strict adherence to duty.
[Illustration: MONUMENT TO FARRAGUT AT WASHINGTON.]