from the English.

The _Essex_ was in command of Captain Porter, and as she was not ready
to start when the rest of the fleet did, she sailed alone down the
river through the quiet bay, and out into the ocean, and as she sailed,
she bore little resemblance to our war vessels of to-day, so clumsily
fashioned was she, being made of wood, with only one covered deck, and
the open forecastle and quarter-deck above it, and had but two tiers of
guns--the largest frigates carried sixty guns, besides a large pivot
gun at the bow, and were noted for their speed, though in comparison to
modern warships they were as a tortoise is to a hare.

Down the river sailed the _Essex_ to join the sister-vessels of her
fleet, with a pennant flying from her masthead, on which were the
words, "_Free trade, and sailors' rights_," for both of which, Captain
Porter was ready to fight.

On the deck of the _Essex_ as she swung slowly out to sea, stood
Captain Porter, and by his side stood the proudest boy in all America
that day, David Farragut, a little midshipman in a shining uniform
which boasted more brass buttons than the years of its wearer's
life--for David was only ten years old, and this is how he came to be
in such an important position on that October day.

Born on a farm near Knoxville, Tenn., on the fifth of July, in 1801,
David Glascow Farragut had a rich inheritance of courage and energy,
both from his mother and father--one being a Spaniard who had come to
America during the Revolutionary war, through his desire to help the
Colonists in their struggle for liberty, the other a brave, energetic
young Scotch woman.

The little farm was miles away from any other dwelling place, and
around it there was only a wilderness of forest trees, so that little
David and his brother were not allowed to go out of sight of the house,
because of the wild animals prowling through the woods and the Indians
who often lurked near. One day while the father was away hunting, the
Indians came and tried to force their way into the house, but brave
Elizabeth Farragut was too quick for them, with fierce courage she
guarded the entrance to the house--axe in hand--first sending the boys
up to a loft under the roof, where they crouched in silence for hours,
while the courageous mother kept the Indians at bay, and finally they
tired of their fruitless attempt and went away.

When David was seven years old his father was appointed sailing master
in the navy,