The 24th April. Passage of the United States Fleet. After the Storm. The “River Defence” boats. The Refuge in the Bayou. Surrender of the Forts. Extracts from Commodore Mitchell’s official reports. Council of War. Destruction of the “Louisiana.” Our Commander General B. F. Butler. Transferred to the United States frigate “Colorado.”

On the night of April 23d, the bursting of the shells was as incessant as usual. Toward daylight of the 24th, an ominous calm of brief duration was broken by the first broadside of the advancing fleet, which had approached so rapidly as to remove and pass the obstructions undiscovered, and before the launch on picket duty could get back to our fleet. For a few minutes the roar of the guns was deafening; but objects were so obscured by the darkness and the dense smoke, that we could only fire, with effect, at the flashes of the ship’s guns. The Louisiana’s three bow guns (one rifled seven-inch and two seven-inch shell guns) and her three starboard broadside guns (a rifled six-inch and two eight-inch shell guns) were all that could be brought to bear during the engagement; for being moored to the river bank, the stern and port broadside guns were useless. The U. S. fleet came up in two divisions, delivering their broadsides in rapid succession. One of the ships was set on fire by one of the fireboats (a number of which had been prepared) but the flames were speedily extinguished. It is said that the unarmed tug Mozier, under her heroic commander, Sherman, while towing a fireboat alongside a heavy ship, was sunk by a broadside delivered at short range, all on board perishing. One of the largest ships, believed to be the Hartford, came in contact with our stern, and received the fire of our three bow guns while in this position, returning a broadside, but she soon swung clear of us and continued on her way up the river.

When day fairly broke, the storm had passed away, leaving wreck and ruin in its wake. The river banks were dotted, here and there, with burning steamers, and a large portion of the U. S. fleet had succeeded in getting beyond the forts. A few vessels of the attacking force had failed to pass the obstructions before daylight, and were driven back by the guns from the forts. The Louisiana and the McRae were the only vessels left to the Confederates; but the former was almost intact, her armor proving a sufficient defence against the broadsides, even when delivered at close range. The eight-inch shells of the Hartford buried themselves about half their diameter in our armor, and crumbled into fragments. All of our casualties occurred on the spar deck; our gallant commander being mortally wounded there; and many of the mechanics, who were quartered on board the tenders alongside of us, were killed or wounded. The McRae and the Manassas were in the stream in time to take an active part in the conflict; the former being considerably cut up. The Manassas struck two vessels with her prow, but did not succeed in sinking either. Having followed the fleet some distance up the river, and being hard pressed and seriously damaged, she was run ashore and abandoned. She shortly afterwards floated off and drifting down the river, sank between the forts. The Louisiana State gunboat “Governor Moore” made a gallant fight, sinking the U. S. gunboat “Verona.”

Kennon, in his official report, states his loss at fifty-seven killed and thirteen wounded out of a crew of ninety-three. He ran his vessel ashore when she was in a sinking condition, and set fire to her with his own hand. The “River Defence” gunboats, with the exception of the “Resolute,” were either destroyed by fire of the enemy’s fleet, or by their own crews. The “Resolute” was discovered ashore, after the action, about a mile above Fort Jackson and abandoned by her crew. Lieut. Alden, with a party from the “McRae,” took possession of her, and endeavored to get her afloat as she was very little injured, but being attacked by one of the gunboats from above, which succeeded in putting several shots through her hull at the water line, Alden was compelled to abandon her after setting her on fire. Among the mortally wounded on board the “McRae” was her commander T. B. Huger. The “Defiance,” one of the “River Defence” gunboats, escaped without material injury. She was turned over to the command of Commodore Mitchell by Captain Stevenson on the 26th, without any of her officers and crew, who refused to remain in her, and went ashore.

After landing the wounded, we continued the work upon the machinery of the Louisiana, buoyed up by the hope of soon being able to retrieve our disasters. Our number was increased by officers and men who had escaped from some of the abandoned vessels. Many of them, to obtain shelter from the shells and canister shot of the Federal fleet, had taken refuge in the “bayous” which lie not far from the river in many places; and they looked like half drowned rats as they came on board the Louisiana. One of the officers gave a ludicrous account of a poor girl, who had fled from her home on the river bank as the fleet was passing, with no clothing except her night dress, and no earthly possession but a lap-dog which she held in her clasped arms. She had sought the same place of refuge and as the shells and shot would whistle over her head she would dive like a duck under the water; and every time she rose above the surface, the lap-dog would sneeze and whimper a protest against the frequent submersions. The officer at last persuaded her to let him take charge of her draggled pet; and finally had the pleasure of seeing her safe back to her home before leaving her.

During the night of the 27th after unremitting labor, our machinery was at last completed, and we prepared to make the attempt to go up the river in pursuit of the fleet. Commodore Mitchell notified General Duncan of his purpose, and the latter seemed sanguine of a successful issue, assuring the Commodore of his ability to hold the forts for weeks. Orders were issued on board the Louisiana for the crew to have an early breakfast, and every thing to be in readiness to cast off from the river bank a little after sunrise. The situation justified the hopes entertained by us of at least partially retrieving our fortunes, when, shortly after daylight, an officer came across the river to us from Fort Jackson, with General Duncan’s compliments, and to say that General D. was about to surrender the forts to Commodore Porter. In nautical parlance, we were “struck flat aback” by this astounding intelligence. With the forts as a base of operations, we might repeat the effort, if the first were unsuccessful; and would be able to repair damages, if necessary, under shelter of their guns; but with their surrender we were helpless. The capture of the Louisiana would then become, indeed, a mere question of time, without the firing of a gun; for we would have been unable to replenish our supplies either of provisions or coal when exhausted. The most sanguine spirits on board, in the light of their experience of the motive power of the Louisiana, did not believe that we could accomplish more than the control of that portion of the river within the range of our guns; nor that the vessel could ever do much more than stem the rapid current of the Mississippi. The surrender of New Orleans was, indeed, inevitable; but even that catastrophe would not involve complete possession of the river by the enemy while we held the forts near its mouth. The gigantic efforts afterwards made by the Federal forces for the capture of Vicksburg showed the vital importance attached by the United States Government to the possession of the fortified positions on the Mississippi, while the equally desperate exertions made by the Confederacy to hold it, demonstrated our consciousness of its value to us.

Commodore Mitchell ordered his boat and proceeded with all haste to remonstrate with General Duncan; but all was unavailing; the General informing the Commodore that he had already dispatched a boat to the United States fleet, offering to surrender his command under certain conditions; disclaiming, in the offer, all control over the forces afloat. The Commodore’s boat had scarcely got back to the Louisiana, when the quartermaster on duty reported one of the ships of the fleet below steaming up the river towards us, with a white flag flying at the mast-head. General Duncan, it is said, stated to the citizens of New Orleans a few days afterward, that a large number of his guns had been spiked by the mutineers of the garrison; and that he had no alternative but to surrender.

A hasty council of war was held on board the Louisiana, during which it was decided to transfer the officers and crew to our two tenders and to burn the ship. This was speedily carried into effect, and the two transports steamed across the river as the flames burst through the Louisiana’s hatchway. Those who wished to make the attempt to escape through the bayous, received permission to do so; and a few of the number, familiar with the locality, succeeded in evading the Federal pickets, and getting within the Confederate lines. The rest of us were entrapped; passing several hours of very unpleasant suspense, while the forts were being surrendered. It was a grand spectacle when the flames reached the Louisiana’s magazine. The hawsers, securing her to the river-bank, having been burnt in two, she floated out into the stream a few minutes before the explosion; and at the moment of its occurrence, a column of pure white smoke shot rapidly high into the air from the blazing hull, wreathing itself at the top into the shape of a snow-white “cumulus” cloud; and in a few seconds afterwards, huge fragments of the wreck showered down, far and wide, upon the river and the adjacent shore. The Louisiana had disappeared before the deafening report attending the catastrophe reached our ears.

Immediately after the United States flag was hoisted upon the forts, the steamer “Harriet Lane” steamed slowly toward us, and sent a shot over our heads as a summons to haul down the Confederate flag which was then flying at our peak. The demand was promptly complied with, and we were prisoners of war.

Upon the pretext that we had violated the usages of war by burning the Louisiana while a flag of truce was flying, we were for a time subjected to unusual humiliations; learning afterwards, indeed, that Commodore Porter had recommended to the Secretary of the Navy a continuance of harsh treatment toward us upon our arrival at Fort Warren, where we were destined. The reply to the charge brought against us is obvious, viz., we were no parties to the flag of truce; nor were we included in the terms of the surrender; General Duncan treating only for the garrisons under his command, and expressly disclaiming any connection with us.

We were kept for a few days in close confinement on board the United States gunboat “Clifton," and were transferred from her on the 7th of May to the frigate Colorado, lying off the mouth of the Mississippi. Here we found Kennon, who had been consigned to a “lower deep” than ourselves. He was placed under a sentry’s charge behind a canvas screen on the opposite side of the gun deck from us; and strict orders were given that no one should hold any communication with him. The charge against him was, that he had caused the death of some of his wounded crew by setting fire to his ship before their removal, a charge denied by him; but even if it were true, or admitted, that some of his crew were unable to escape, he was only responsible to his own government. In a few days, however, he was released from solitary confinement, and many restrictions were removed from all of us. But humiliations or physical discomforts weighed as a feather upon our spirits compared with our reflections upon the consequences of the disaster which we had witnessed; and our consciousness that this sad fate had been brought upon the country chiefly by treachery and want of concert. And, indeed, the extent of the disaster could scarcely be exaggerated. It gave the United States Government possession of the State of Louisiana, the almost complete control of the Mississippi river, and separated Texas and Arkansas from the rest of the Confederacy for the remainder of the war.