Favorable (smooth-water) weather was had on the night of December 23, 1864, and the powder-boat _Louisiana_ was sent in. She was in charge of Commander A. C. Rhind, who had with him Lieut. S. W. Preston, Engineer A. T. E. Mullen, Master’s Mate Boyden, and seven men. The tug _Wilderness_ towed the _Louisiana_ in toward the fort near the north end of the sea-front until the water was fifteen feet deep, when the _Louisiana_ cast off the line and proceeded under her own steam until she was in nine feet of water, when she was anchored. She was then 300 yards or less from the fort. Butler says she should have been beached, although he also says (see ante) 400 or 500 yards was near enough. Captain Rhind says he did not beach her because she would have been strained on the sand, and was likely to open a seam and let in the water and spoil the experiment. Clocks had been arranged to drop weights on explosive mixtures, and these were now set. Then a fire was built in the shaft tunnel in the stern to make sure that she exploded if the clocks failed, after which Rhind and his men returned to the tug. It was then exactly midnight. The tug ran twelve miles out to sea and stopped to watch the explosion. It took place at 1.40 o’clock, and amounted to absolutely nothing. An army engineer found the wreck of a blockade-runner, called the _Condor_, 800 or 900 yards from the fort, assumed that it was the wreck of the _Louisiana_, and so reported. This report was used to discredit Commander Rhind. It seems, on the face of it, to have been a fraud, for the army officer should have known that nothing would remain of the _Louisiana_ after such an explosion. But if so much had remained, what became of Butler’s theory? The idea that exploding any possible mass of gunpowder in the open air outside of such a fort could hurt any one or anything inside was simply childish. But Butler never ceased to argue that it ought to have been a tremendous success. And it is a most sorrowful fact that, because of Butler’s political influence, the magnificent bravery of the powder-boat’s crew was never in any public manner recognized. The next day, December 24, 1864, the warships steamed in and anchored at fair range, with the ironclads in one line and the wooden ships some distance outside. They bombarded the fort from 11.30 A.M. until sunset. At night Butler, with a part of his transports, came from Beaufort, and next morning the others arrived. It was arranged to land the troops, undercover of the gunboats, at a point two miles up the beach from the fort. Butler’s orders were to make an assault, if that were deemed feasible, but if not, he was to throw up intrenchments and lay siege to the fort in the usual fashion. Soundings were made in the morning, a more effective line of fire was planned, and, late in the forenoon, the fleet steamed in and once more opened fire. This was on December 25, 1864.