Benjamnin F. Butler, Butler's Book: Autobiography and Personal Reminiscences of Major-General Benjamin Butler

[1127] bullets, drew the enemy's attention away from the assault on the land side, and enabled the troops to obtain a secure footing. I don't say this to detract from the gallantry of the soldiers, for never did men fight harder or more handsomely than did our troops on that day.

Now that the most important fort on the coast has been gained, as usual you will hear but little of what the navy did, and, no doubt, efforts will be made again to show that the work was “not substantially injured as a defensive work.” To General Grant, who is always willing to take the credit when anything is done, and equally ready to lay the blame of the failure on the navy, I feel under no obligations for receiving and allowing a report to be spread from his headquarters that there were three days when the navy might have operated and did not.

He knows as much about it as he did when he wrote to me, saying that the “only way in which the place could be taken was by running the ships past the batteries,” showing, evidently, that he had not studied the hydrography of Cape Fear River, and did not know the virtue there was in our wooden walls when they went in for a fair stand — up fight. Any fort in rebeldom can be taken, if we can only get within reach of it.

I have served with the lieutenant-general before, where I never worked so hard in my life to make a man succeed as I did for him. You will scarcely notice in his reports that the navy did give him any service, when, without the help it has given him all the way through, he would never have been lieutenant-general. He wants magnanimity, like most officers of the army, and is so avaricious as regards fame that he will never, if he can help it, do justice to our department. When the rebels write the history of this war, then, and only then, will the country be made to feel what the navy has done.

I do not feel at all kindly toward General Grant for the indifference he displayed in this matter until he found his reputation at stake; then he was glad to throw the elephant overboard that had weighted him down so heavily. He could not help but know that General Butler was going in command of this expedition. The matter was constantly discussed with him. He knew that he had placed himself and all his numerous staff on board the flag-ship Ben de Ford, and everybody spoke of him as commander of the troops.

In a conversation with General Grant I expressly told him that I wanted nothing to do with General Butler, and he promised me faithfully that he should not have any connection with the expedition. Two months I waited, the fleet ready to sail at an hour's notice, and I acquiesced in the lieutenant-general's decision that he could not spare troops for fear of endangering the defences in his front. I said: “Then the expedition will never go until Butler has a finger in the pie;” and, sure enough, when Butler said go, we went, The fear of weakening the defences disappeared on Butler's presenting his plan of blowing the forts down, and an army was shipped so quick (unprepared) on the transports, that they almost sailed in the middle of a heavy gale. General Grant knew that I did not care a fig for the powder-boat, though I was very