For little Dave Farragut the sea had always a wonderful fascination, and at the age of twelve he was made a midshipman on the _Essex_, a warship of 1812. The _Essex_ one day captured a whaling vessel, and Captain Porter placed David in charge to steer her across the Pacific. The captain of the whaler, when clear of the _Essex_, thought to regain his vessel from the boy, by countermanding his orders. He threatened to shoot any sailor who dared to disobey him. Right here, the mettle that was to make Farragut the head of the American navy and the idol of the American people manifested itself. He repeated his order at first given; and when the mutinous captain appeared from below decks where he had gone for his pistols, he was told by the youthful commander that he would have to stay below or be thrown overboard. He chose the former. To this same dauntless spirit, the Federal government owed the blockade of the lower Mississippi and the closing of the ports of Mobile Bay, that inflicted such injuries upon the Confederacy as to hasten the end of the war. "With ports closed," says an authority, "the Southern armies were reduced to a pitiful misery, the long endurance of which makes a noble chapter in heroism." The lower Mississippi was controlled by the Confederates. Possession of the river and the capture of New Orleans could be accomplished only by running the forts situated below the city some seventy miles. To run the forts with wooden vessels and escape destruction from the armed vessels of the Confederacy in the Mississippi was a hazardous undertaking. Farragut believed he could do this. In December, 1861, he wrote to a friend: "Keep your lips closed and burn my letters. Perfect silence is the first injunction of the Secretary. I am to have a _flag_ in the gulf, and the rest depends upon myself." In March he again wrote, "I have now attained what I have been looking for all my life--a _flag_--and having attained it, all that is necessary to complete the scene is a victory." The victory he was soon to have. At two o'clock the morning of April 24, 1862, the signal for the start for the forts was given. In a few moments the thunderous roar of batteries and guns broke upon the air. The river became a mass of writhing flame. "The passing of Forts Jackson and St. Phillips was one of the most awful sights and events I ever saw or expect to experience," says Farragut. Rafts of cotton were set on fire by the Confederates and came down the river, scattering disaster as they came. One of these caught the _Hartford_, Farragut's flagship, and set it on fire. So high rose the flames that even the courageous commander was for the moment daunted and exclaimed, "My God! is this to end this way!" By the expeditious use of the hose the flames were controlled. The strong barriers across the river were broken. By repeated and desperate efforts the Confederate boats were sunk or disabled. The levee at New Orleans was gained. The Crescent City was taken.