Great Characters of New Orleans:

General Benjamin Butler (The Beast)

General Benjamin Butler, also known as "Spoons," "The Beast," and "The Monster," is probably the most hated man ever to set foot in New Orleans.

On May 1, 1862, he arrived with an occupying army of 18,000 Federal troops and stayed seven months and two weeks to rule the city of 350,000 with an arrogant iron hand.

"New Orleans is a conquered city," Butler proclaimed, "conquered by the forces of the United States . . . and subject to the will of the conqueror."

He began by hanging a harmless gambler, William Mumford, who tore the Union flag down from atop the United States Mint. When populist Mayor John T. Monroe, a former stevedore and champion of the people, tried to negotiate, Butler threw him into prison.

A political general twice beaten in the race for Governor of Massachusetts, Butler was a bull-headed martinet who considered all Confederates traitors. He was the perfect arch-villain for an occupation that bristled with rancor. His gross physical appearance made him even more grotesque. A great round pudding of a man, Butler was cock-eyed.

"Butler the Beast" cracked down on the newspapers first. Two local publishers were shut down and two others deemed "offensive" quietly disappeared. The two remaining newspapers became Ben Butler's lickspittles.

He attacked the clergy with equal zest. When the local Episcopal clergyman failed to attend a Union funeral service, General Butler "occupied" Christ Church. He replaced its rector and vestrymen with his own officers.

Reverend James Ignatius Mullon refused to be coerced. The sixty-nine year old Irish-born pastor of St. Patrick's was a naval veteran of the War of 1812. "The Beast" had decided to confiscate all civilian metals that could be used in the Yankee war effort -- including every single piece of silverware in New Orleans. He went after iron fences, gates, grillwork, even bells. Father Mullon bridled at the latter, "Let Butler come get St. Patrick's bell if he dares!" Butler dared not. But the Yankee tyrant kept badgering the Irish priest.

"It has been brought to my attention, Father, that you have refused to bury my Yankee dead."

"To the contrary, General," Father Mullon replied. "I stand ready to bury the entire Yankee army!"

Butler's tenure was the most severe occupation endured by an American city. Butler treated citizens like foreign agents. He sentenced a bookseller to jail for supposedly displaying a mock skeleton of a Yankee soldier.

At least his occupation was sanitary. He put the unemployed to work giving New Orleans the first real scouring it ever had received. Yellow fever virtually disappeared.

"Beast" Butler's ultimate indignity, the one chattered over for decades at teas and socials, was the infamous Woman's Order -- General Order #28. In effect, it said that any local woman who offended any member of the Occupying Army would be treated as a common prostitute -- and thrown in jail for the night.

New Orleans women were outraged. Some pasted Butler's likeness to the bottom of their chamberpots. Butler had miscalculated. All of Western civilization was offended. Lord Palmerston rose in Parliament to denounce the Yankee general as "crude and infamous."

Angry New Orleans belles pointedly turned their backs on Butler when they saw him. The General remarked, "Those women know which end of them looks best." Confederate President Jefferson Davis, appalled by his insults, branded "Beast" Butler an "outlaw" to be hanged on the spot if captured.

Undaunted, Butler stomped into the St. Charles Hotel one day and announced he was taking over the third floor as his new headquarters. The hotel manager thought quickly. "I'm sorry, sir," he said. "This hotel has just closed for the summer."

General Butler eventually dreamed up an idea so stupid and tactless that President Lincoln was compelled to recall him. Butler decided it was important, in such a large international port, to demand an oath of allegiance from all foreigners, travelers, and aliens.

Lincoln relieved the bumbling "Beast" with a stiff reprimand for "flagrant disregard of international law." After seven months of discord and hatred, he was shipped out on Christmas Eve, 1862. As he boarded, a note was handed him from one of the "she-adders" he had insulted. It read, "We have always regarded you as a Monster . . . and Butler the Beast will be handed down to posterity as a certain byword . . . All true Southerners will remember thee . . . Monster . . . Thou vilest of Scum."