Many others, doubtless. But these are, certainly, among those whom General Butler would like to have with him if he had another New Orleans to take and tame.

CHAPTER XXXI.

ROUTINE OF A DAY IN NEW ORLEANS.

6

A MAJOR-GENERAL commanding, as modern warfare is conducted, is in danger of becoming the slave of the desk. He carries a sword in obedience to custom, but the instrument that he is most familiar with is that one, which, eminent tragedians' say, is mightier than the sword. The quantity of writing required for the business of a division stationed in a quiet district is very great. But in such a department as that of the Gulf in 1862, a general must manage well, or he will find himself reduced to the condition of the 'sole editor and proprietor' of a daily newspaper. His life will resolve itself into a vain struggle to keep down his pile of unanswered letters. General Butler employed seven clerks at head-quarters; he had, also, the assistance of the younger members of his staff; but, with all this force of writers to assist him, he wrote or dictated more hours in the twenty-four than professional writers usually do. Let us see how the day went in New Orleans.

From eight to nine in the morning, General Butler usually received ladies at his residence, who desired to avoid the publicity of the office at the Custom-House, or who had communications to make of a confidential nature. At nine, he went, in some state, to his public office. On his appearance at the front door, the guard, drawn up before the house, saluted, and the general entered his carriage, two orderlies being mounted on the box. The same ceremonial was observed when he entered the Custom-House. The six mounted orderlies, employed in conveying messages and orders, were drawn up before the principal entrance, and saluted the general. On his way to his own apartment, he had to pass through the court-room in which Major Bell was dispensing justice to the

people of New Orleans. The major remarked the good effect it had upon the spectators to see the commander of the department remove his cap, as he entered the court-room, and bow to the presiding judge. On reaching his office, the general would find from one hundred to two hundred people, in and around the adjoining rooms, waiting to see him.

The office was a large room, furnished with little more than a long table and a few chairs. In one corner, behind the table, sat, unobserved, a short-hand reporter, who, at a signal from the general, would take down the examination of an applicant or an informer. The general began business by placing his pistol upon the table, within easy reach. After the detection of two or three plots to assassinate him, one of the aids caused a little shelf to be made under the table for the pistol, while another pistol, unloaded, lay upon the table, which any gentleman, disposed to attempt the game of assassination, was at liberty to snatch.

That single loaded pistol, carried in a pocket or laid upon a shelf, was General Butler's sole precaution against assassination in a community of whom a majority would have treated his murderer as a patriotic hero, and rewarded him with honor and with wealth. But that precaution sufficed. Chance gave him the reputation of being a dead shot, and every man who observed his movements could infer that his handling of his pistol would be quick and dexterous. He was riding along one day, with a numerous retinue, where some orange trees, loaded with fruit, hung over a wall. As he rode by, he took out his pistol, and aiming it at a twig which sustained three fine oranges, severed the twig, and brought the game rolling on the ground. It was a chance shot, which, probably, he could not have equaled in ten trials. But it answered the purpose of giving the impression that he was the best shot in New Orleans. Yet, it was surprising that no one attempted his assassination. He went everywhere with one attendant, or with none. His apparent carelessness was a daily invitation to the assassin.

Another member of the staff, of a mischievous turn, had exercised his talents in printing, in large letters, the following sentence, legible to all visitors, on the wall of the room:

"THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A HE AND A SHE ADDER IN THEIR VENOM.

Mrs. Philips, and other ladies of a similar disposition, would

glare at the legend indignantly, as though this simple statement of a fact in natural history had some special reference to them.

There was another little contrivance, which I believe was an achievement of the general's own genius. Some of his Creole visitors, and some of the Israelitish money-changers who came to him, were addicted to the use of garlic-a fact which did not render a close confidential interview with them so desirable as a conference from a point more remote. Consequently, the chair provided for the use of such persons was tied by the leg to the leg of the table, so that it could not be drawn very near the one occupied by the general. The anxious petitioner, not observing the cord, was likely to open the conference by throwing the chair over. Others, who succeeded in seating themselves without this embarrassing catastrophe, found all their attempts to edge up confidentially to the general's ear unavailing. This invention saved the general from the fumes of garlic, and compelled the visitor to speak loud enough for the reporter to hear him.

The general being seated in his chair behind the table, with his artillery in position, heads of departments were first admitted, such as the medical director and the chief of police. Their reports having been received and acted upon, the chiefs of the Relief Commission and the Labor Commission entered and reported. Next to them such persons as consuls and bank directors. The first hour of the morning was usually consumed in conference with these and other important official individuals. Then the public were admitted, thirty at a time, who stood in a semi-circle before the table. The general would begin at one end of the line, and ask: "What do you want?"

They wanted everything that creature ever wanted: a pass to go beyond the lines; an order on the relief committee for food; protection against a hard landlord; a permit to search for a slave; aid to recover a debt; the arbitration of a dispute; payment of a claim against the government; the restoration of forfeited property; the suppression of a nuisance; employment in the public offices; a gift of money; information on points of law; protection against a cruel master. Others came to give information, or to wreak an inexpensive revenge by denouncing a private foe as a public enemy. The general devoted an average of twenty seconds to the consideration of each. A few, short, sharp, incisive questions, and then the

decision, clear as yes or no could make it. And the decision once pronounced, there was not another syllable to be said. Every one got, at least, an answer, and the answer was generally right. Under the fire of General Butler's cross-questioning, the subterfuges and evasions of the unskillful rebels melted rapidly away, and the truth stood out clear and unmistakable. Sometimes, when a man had been detected in a falsehood, he would try again.

“Well, General, I own it was a lie, but now I am going to tell the truth."

It happened, not unfrequently, that the general would overturn, by an adroit question or two, the second version of the tale, and the man would essay a third time, calling all the saints to witness that now, at last, the pure truth should be told, and then immediately coin a new series of falsehoods, to be instantly detected by the general. Scenes of this kind occurred so often, that it became a by-word at head-quarters: "Now I am going to tell you the truth."

At eleven o'clock, the door being closed to miscellaneous applicants, the letters of the day were placed upon the table opened, to the number of eighty or a hundred. The general read over each, and disposed of most of them by writing a word or two on the back, "yes," "no," "granted," "refused;" in accordance with which the answer was prepared by clerk or secretary. Others were reserved for consideration or for answer by the general's own hand. Military business was next in order, which brought him to the hungry hour of one. After luncheon, the writing of reports and letters occupied the time till half-past four. Then home to dinFrom half-past five till dark, the general was on horseback, reviewing a regiment here, visiting an outpost there, thus uniting. duty with recreation. Then home to his private office, where he wrote or dictated letters till ten. The last tired scribe being then dismissed, the general retired to the only apartment into which no visitor ever entered, where, at a little desk in a corner, he wrote the papers and dispatches which were of most importance, or which were designed only for the eye of the person addressed.

ner.

Even this constant devotion to the business of his position could not prevent an accumulation of unanswered letters. Frequently he was obliged to ply the pen all day Sunday, in order to reduce the mountain of papers, and begin the week with a clear conscience and a clean table. The business, however, was all done. No letter but

received its due attention. Letters from home asking information respecting soldiers who had suddenly ceased to write to their friends were invariably answered, and the fullest accounts given which could be procured. A decent application for an autograph was not neglected; for the general kept a supply of the article on hand, ready folded, enveloped, and stamped.

"Why not?" he said one day to Major Strong, who laughed at this business-like proceeding. "If I can gratify a person, by writing my name, why should not I do it? At the same time, why should not I do it with the least trouble to myself?”*

Thus the days passed. A trip up the river to Baton Rouge, or down the river to the forts, a ride to Carrollton, or a brigade review, varied the uniformity of the general's life. But most of his days were employed in the manner just described. "For hours," writes one," he sits and patiently listens to complaints, and suggests punishments or redress. Returning to his hotel, he partakes of a simple meal, retires to his room, to be again besieged by crowds of officers and orderlies, charged with reports, or waiting orders. Late at night, I have seen the gas gleaming from his room (the door open by the necessity of getting some air in this suffocating climate), and the general buried in the labor of his extensive military correspondence."

It was not General Butler's office alone which was besieged by crowds of anxious people. Colonel French, General Shepley, Col. Stafford, Dr. McCormick, were only less busy than he, in answering the arguments, and supplying the wants of the people. The intelligent writer just quoted attended, at the City Hall, the headquarters of Governor Shepley, and noted the cases disposed of by him in one morning. The catalogue will interest the reader:

"General G. F. Shepley," he remarks, "the least observant of people would point out as a man of more than ordinary character. His figure is as straight as an Indian's, his eye-a light blue-is remarkably expressive; the hair sweeps in a broad, bold dash away from his square forehead, and his moustache and imperial are perfect. With his sword at his side, and standing up listening to the numerous people who call on him, I have rarely seen a more soldierly-looking man.

*N.B. The supply is now said to be exhausted, the demand having exceeded the resources of the market.

+ Correspondence of the New York Times.