Edward Alfred Pollard, The lost cause; a new Southern history of the War of the Confederates ... Drawn from official sources and approved by the most distinguished Confederate leaders.

The correspondence touching the surrender of the city was protracted until the 28th of April. There was a purpose in this. The confidence of the people had, in a measure, rallied; there were yet glimpses of hope. As long as Forts St. Philip, Jackson, and the Chalmette batteries remained intact, it was thought that something might be done to save the city. The enemy's fleet had no forces with which to occupy it; his transports were unable to get up the river, as long as the forts held out. The enemy's land forces, under Gen. Butler, were at Ship Island and Mississippi City. Had he attempted to march overland upon New Orleans, the levees would have been cut, and his men drowned in the swamps.

But the last hope was to be extinguished. While Farragut and Mayor Monroe were exchanging angry letters of great length, the overwhelming news reached New Orleans, that Forts St. Philip and Jackson had surrendered to the enemy. The surrender was made in consequence of a mutiny of the garrisons. On examining his guns in Fort Jackson, Gen. Duncan found many spiked, several dismounted, and not less than three hundred men clamoring around him for a surrender. Remonstrances, threats, and entreaties were alike useless. In vain Gen. Duncan declared to the men that it would be an eternal shame to give up the works, provisioned as they were, and scarcely touched by the enemy. In vain he vowed that the forts were impregnable. In vain he promised that he would blow up all Butler's transports in a trice, if his men would only stand by him. The soulless creatures who disgraced the Confederate uniform had no reply to these arguments and appeals. Nothing would satisfy them but surrender. Ragged, dusty, powder-blackened, and exhausted, Duncan reached New Orleans, to tell the story of the great misfortune; and as he narrated it on the levee he wept, and the hundreds who listened to him were silent with amazement and shame.

Farragut, being informed of the surrender of the forts, was now anxious to expedite the full and formal surrender of the city, before the arrival of Butler with his transports. The correspondence with the Mayor had continued through several days. On the 28th of April, Farragut addressed his ultimatum to that officer, complaining of the continued display of the State flag of Louisiana on the City Hall, and concluding with a threat of the bombardment of the city, by notifying him to remove the women and children from its limits within forty-eight hours. The flag was not removed, and the threat was not fulfilled. On the 1st of May, Farragut reluctantly consented to send his own forces to take down the flag.

About noon, he sent on shore a party of two hundred marines with two brass howitzers, who marched through the streets and formed before the City Hall. The officer in command ascended to the dome of the building, and took down the objectionable State banner — the sign of all State rights. The act was done in profound silence; there were no idle utterances of