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.] THE STORY OF ADMIRAL DEWEY AND THE NAVY OF 1898 [Illustration: George Dewey] FOREWORD.