Cotton Burning on the Levee: A Civilian Witnesses the Federal Seizure of New Orleans

For one Ohio-born resident of New Orleans, the arrival of Admiral David Farragut’s fleet on April 25, 1862, marked a day of liberation.

“Yesterday about half past 1 o’clock, the cry was raised that the Yankees were upon us,” wrote Louis M. Beyers in a letter to his mother. “I started toward the levee where the Federal vessels were said to be lying. Reaching the river, what a sight breaks upon my view. The steamboat William Morrison was one mass of flames. All the shipping was sending forth the most dense black smoke. The Mississippi, a ram which was nearly finished and which, if completed, would have demolished the whole fleet in one hour, floating slowly by with the smoke issuing from every opening and several other important like vessels in various parts of the river, all showing that the torch has been applied to them.”

“Together with the thunder which came peal after peal gave a scene of the utmost grandeur. There proudly floating in the smoke and rain were the glorious old stars and stripes, not one, but a dozen of them. I cannot describe my feelings but never did the stars and stripes look so proud and beautiful. Never had the sight of that banner thrilled me as it did on that occasion. I felt like a new being, a free man once more, never again to be a slave. I should have like to have cheered three times three, but instant death would have been my fate. So thanking God silently, I turned and walked home listening to the mutterings and bitter curses showered upon the devoted heads of Uncle Sam’s men.”

          In this extraordinary letter to his mother back in Ohio, stretching from April 10th through May 2nd, Captain Beyers recorded the scenes of when “Dame Rumor held full sway” to the reality of Federal occupation of the city. The letter first appeared in the May 24, 1862, edition of the Zanesville Daily Courier.

 

New Orleans Customs House 

Friday morning, April 10, 1862

Dear mother,

          The long-looked-for event, the long desired yet dreaded event, is at last at hand. Of course, I can mean nothing but the commencement of the fight at the mouth of the river, the result of which will decide the fate of New Orleans. Full confidence is reposed in the strength and impregnability of Forts Jackson and St. Philip.

Saturday morning, April 19, 1862

          News from below indicates one of the most terrific bombardments ever recorded. The forts are holding their own and suffering little or no damage. All are sanguine and joyful.

12 noon

          A change comes over the scene. The forts have had their woodwork burnt but still Major Duncan assures us of safety.

2 p.m.

          We have had 5 men killed and 15 wounded. The enemy’s fire has slackened somewhat but still they fire with wonderful precision. Some of our guns have been dismounted by the enemy’s 13-inch shells. 13” shells! Can brick and mortar resist a large fleet throwing 13” shells with wonderful precision?

Sunday morning, April 20, 1862

          No news from the fort. What means the silence? Then again, what does the True Delta mean by telling people to prepare for the worst? Dame Rumor has full sway. Everyone has some strange and important report to tell of, all different, yet all unpromising. General [Mansfield] Lovell has left for the forts and people are working themselves up to a pitch of excitement heretofore unfelt.

Sunday evening

          Lovell has returned. All is well is the cry and once more the community enjoys its usual equilibrium. We will sleep well tonight.

Monday, April 21, 1862

          I must attend to business. I go downtown. The streets are thronged with persons of all sizes, ages, colors, and classes. Into one store then to another, buying goods of all sorts- useful, ornamental, valuable, and otherwise. How good business is today says one small clerk to another. Not so with that old gentleman in the office looking over his books and writing hurriedly. I am selling briskly, say he, but for what? What is the meaning of all this extravagance on the part of the ladies? Out he goes but returns shortly and calls a council. Thomas, John, and Charles, you will and must raise the price of your goods 50%. And back they go behind their counters to astonish and provoke some old lady with enormous prices, etc.

Tuesday, April 22, 1862

          Today brings nothing of importance. In want of news, the people make their own surmises, all of which are not of the most flattering description. Many of the first families are packing up to leave town. Report has it that Mrs. General Lovell has already left. It looks ominous. No news on Wednesday, either

Thursday morning, April 24, 1862

          Everybody up bright and early. It is rumored that vessels to the number of 16 have passed the forts. It is not so! It can’t be. “I don’t believe it” is in everybody’s mouth. By 11 a.m., a dispatch to that effect is in town and on the bulletin boards. My stars! What an excitement! What a running to and fro. Ding dong, ding dong go the alarm bells! Soldier to the rescue. He starts to his feet, straps on his knapsack, seizes his gun, a kiss, a tear, and he is gone! Armed men are seen in every direction. Men did I say? See, there goes a boy of 15 with a gun and there is another whose mother is leading him and entreating him to remain with her. It is useless and he breaks away and is off. In a short time, he has procured a gun and has joined his comrade, eager for the fray.

Thursday evening

          The troops of the city and those from Camp Lewis and Greenville are ordered to march to the fortifications below the city.  

          Later in the day comes news that all our gunboats are captured. The excitement has reached its highest pitch. Carriages, drays, and carts are hurrying to and fro and the break-neck speed at which they travel adds to the scene a noise that is deafening. I can write no more at present. Five boats are prepared to float down among the enemy’s vessels- all is hurry and bustle and night closes on the scene.

Now comes the worst of all. General Lovell had ordered every bale of cotton stored within the limits of the city to be destroyed. About nightfall, the work of destruction commenced in earnest. Walking down on the levee, what do you see? Cotton, cotton, cotton, all along the levee for squares. Torches are prepared and now they fire it and the flames leaping from bale to bale sending up clouds of dense black smoke, together with the excited mob running here and there torches in hand, the shouts of the spectators presents a scene never to be forgotten but which I am unable to describe.

This is not all, for yonder behind the city the heavens are lit up and more of the staple is undoubtedly sharing the same fate. All around in every direction can be seen like indications. Such is the spirit of the people whom the North have to contend against.

This has been a most exciting day to all and now at 11 o’clock I will bid you good night, hoping that you may never be called upon to witness such a scene of wanton destruction of private property as it has been my fate to look upon tonight.

U.S.S. Brooklyn under fire from the ram Manassas during the fight on the Mississippi River near Forts Jackson and St. Philip on the night of April 24, 1862. 

9 a.m., Friday morning, April 25, 1862

          The city is all alive so far as the people are concerned, but there is not a store of any sort, size, or description open- no market can be made and take it all together, there is a dreadful state of affairs existing. Anxiety, doubt, and confusion! Rumors on rumors of Yankees, Yankee fleets, etc. Last night’s rest seems to have little effect in calming the people. If we only had something definite, official, and reliable, we would know how to act, but amid such confusion and contradictions, every report adds to the excitement. To cap all there go the alarm bells again. But I must stop. It requires an abler pen than mine to do justice to the scene.

Noon

          There has been a fight at Chalmette below the city, the result of which is not exactly known except that the Yankees are coming.

Saturday morning, April 26, 1862

          They are here! Yesterday about half past 1 o’clock, the cry was raised that the Yankees were upon us. It was a terrible yet grand sight. I left the office armed with an umbrella. The sky was black with clouds and threatened a heavy rain. Nothing daunted, I started toward the levee where the Federal vessels were said to be lying. Reaching the river, what a sight breaks upon my view. The steamboat William Morrison was one mass of flames. All the shipping was sending forth the most dense black smoke. The Mississippi, a ram which was nearly finished and which, if completed, would have demolished the whole fleet in one hour, floating slowly by with the smoke issuing from every opening and several other important like vessels in various parts of the river, all showing that the torch has been applied to them.

Together with the thunder which came peal after peal gave a scene of the utmost grandeur. There proudly floating in the smoke and rain were the glorious old stars and stripes, not one, but a dozen of them. I cannot describe my feelings but never did the stars and stripes look so proud and beautiful. Never had the sight of that banner thrilled me as it did on that occasion. I felt like a new being, a free man once more, never again to be a slave. I should have like to have cheered three times three, but instant death would have been my fate. So thanking God silently, I turned and walked home listening to the mutterings and bitter curses showered upon the devoted heads of Uncle Sam’s men. They demanded the unconditional surrender of the city. General Lovell refused, saying that he would retire with his troops from the town and leave the city authorities to act as they saw fit. Several messages passed between the fleet and mayor and now the matter rests in status quo.

The state flag flies from City Hall and the mayor refuses to surrender and tells them if the flag is unpleasant, they can land and take it down, but neither he nor any citizen will do so. The Federals have not sufficient force to undertake anything of that sort and will have to await the arrival of their transports to take possession of the town. The forts from the latest accounts are still in good fighting condition and the transports cannot get up. Report has it that Fort Pike has been abandoned and that the Feds are coming up in that way. In the meantime, we will have a hard time to live so scarce are provisions.

New Orleans Mint

Tuesday, April 29, 1862

          Matters have been so unsettled since Saturday that I have fallen somewhat behind in my journal. Sunday passed very quietly indeed- no communication between the city and fleet. In the morning, the Confederate gunboat McRae under a flag of truce sailed up the river, bringing up the wounded from the forts and the gunboat Louisiana. On Monday, she sank as he was going downriver from seven shots received below the water’s edge.

Monday at 10 o’clock, Captain Bailey came ashore bringing a demand from Admiral Farragut to pull down the Louisiana flag over City Hall and threatened that unless it was down in 48 hours, he would shell it down and accordingly gave notice to the mayor to remove the women and children within that time. What the mayor returned as an answer or what the Common Council determined upon I know not, nor care not, but below you will find what was done.

Now came another excitement. Where are we to go? How am I to get there, and what am I going to live on after getting to a place of safety? These questions were uppermost in every married man’s mind. Some started up the Jackson railroad to starve for I understand that there is the greatest dissatisfaction among the troops up the railroad on account of the scarcity of provisions. The old man and family contemplated going across the river to get out of harm’s way. Trunks were accordingly packed and ready for the move today when, great Scott, what is this we hear? The forts have surrendered and the men have arrived, released on parole, and are now walking around the streets. Commodore Farragut sends words to Mayor Munroe to that effect and also that he is about to land a force of Marines to put up the U.S. flag over City Hall. He gives notice to the mayor that he will hold him responsible for any violence to his men.

          A body of 290 Marines armed with Minie muskets land together with a few old tars and two small pieces of artillery. Boldly they march through the crowded streets and defiantly place the stars and stripes over the Customs House. Dense crowds of citizens watch their movements but none dare interfere. Now they turn their steps towards City Hall where floats the identical flag hoisted on that staff on the day of secession more than a year ago.

          Arriving there, they place their pieces pointing up and down St. Charles Street. The marines are drawn up before the hall and the officer in command, together with a couple of brave tars, ascend the steps, enter the Hall, and make their way up to the roof. The crowd of spectators watch with breathless anxiety their flag. In a short time, the men appear on the roof, seize the rope, the order is given, and down comes the flag which had waved defiantly for 120 hours. Many of the ladies shed tears at the sight. Now those gallant four men reappear at the head of the steps, one of them having under his arm the bunting which had been near the destruction of the town. Silently, they fall into marching order and proceed to the levee of their ships. As they turn to go, the pent up feelings of the mob bursts out into loud and continues shouts for ‘Jeff Davis and the Southern Confederacy’ and in curses on the Yankees who treat them with silent contempt.

Friday, May 2, 1862

          General Butler has arrived with his troops and now has possession of the town. The men are, for the most part, strong and healthy looking. I hope they are here for good as children say. I am strongly of the opinion that when they leave, I shall accompany them. 

To learn more about the Federal occupation of New Orleans, please check out this post:

It is a Rough Life: Taking New Orleans with the 12th Connecticut 

Ben Butler's Botched Money Grab: A Tale of Civil war New Orleans

Source:

Letter from Captain Louis M. Beyers, Zanesville Daily Courier (Ohio), May 24, 1862, pg. 2

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