And oh, the day when with muffled drum
We saw our dear, dead Johnston come!
The blood of our slain ones seemed to pour
From the eyes that should see them come no more.
We measured our grief by each gallant deed;
We measured our loss by our direful need;
Our dead dreams rose from the vanquished past,
And across the future their shadows cast.
Our brave young hope, like a fallen tear,
We laid on the grave of our Chevalier.
And that last wild night! the east was red
So long 'fore the day had left its bed.
With white, set faces, and smileless lips,
We fired our vessels, we fired our ships.
We saw the sails of the red flame lift
O'er each fire-cargo we set adrift;
To Farragut's fleet we sent them down,
A warm, warm welcome from the town.
But, alas, how quickly came the end!
For down the river, below the bend,
Like a threatening finger shook each mast
Of the Yankee ships as they steamed up fast.
Grim and terrible, black with men,
Oh, for the Mississippi then!
And—God be merciful!—there she came,
A drifting wreck, a ship of flame.
What a torch to light the stripes and stars
That had braved our forts and harbor bars!
What a light, by which we saw vainly slip
Our hopes to their death in that sinking ship!
We shrieked with rage, and defeat, and dread,
As down the river that phantom sped;
But on the deck of a Yankee ship,
One grim old tar, with a smiling lip,
Patted the big black breech of his gun,
As one who silently says, "Well done!"
To-day the graves that were new are old,
And a story done is a story told;
But we of the city, the women and men,
And boys unfitted for fighting then,
Remember the day when our flag went down,
And the stars and stripes waved over the town.
Ah me! the bitter goes with the sweet,
And a victory means another defeat;
For, bound in Nature's inflexible laws,
A glory for one is another's Lost Cause.
Marion Manville.
The national flag was hoisted over the mint, but was torn down and dragged through the streets in derision by a gang of men led by William B. Mumford. Mumford was captured and hanged for treason.
MUMFORD
THE MARTYR OF NEW ORLEANS