At 11:00 p.m. Wood assembled the men for their final instructions. Each man, specially picked, knew his job. Wood always made certain that his men were more than just fighters; they could operate a vessel after its capture. After leading his men in prayer and dividing the marine detachment among the craft as the sharpshooters, he ordered them all into the boats. As they settled themselves, young Midshipman Palmer Saunders looked up into the clouding sky and remarked, “I wonder, boys, how many of us will be up in those stars by tomorrow morning.” While this comment sobered the older men, the younger sailors were full of excitement positioning their cutlasses and pistols for instant access, regaling each other with the great deeds they would do, and choosing buddies for the imminent fight. On every boat, the commanders handed out short tapered, white-pine dowels provided by the expedition’s carpenter; they would soon come in handy. In the distance the battle lanterns of the Underwriter shone clearly at each mast.

Subscribe Today

• Did you enjoy our article?
• Read more in Civil War Times magazine
• Subscribe online and save nearly 40%!!!
 

The cutters, again in their two divisions, traveled cautiously side by side. Wood would strike forward, Loyall aft. The launches brought up the rear. Since the cutter force was more than enough to take the Underwriter, the launches would be used only for reinforcement or defense from other gunboats.

The raiders were not attacking blindly. Sometime earlier, a spy dressed as a hill-country farmer slipped into New Bern and visited the gunboats at the wharves. He noted their armaments, the discipline of their crews, and their modes of keeping watch. Wood’s men knew what to expect.

As the raiders approached the Underwriter, sheets of rain began to fall, obscuring her for a time. Then, at 300 yards, her black hull stood out. In New Bern, a lonely bell tolled mournfully, like a death-knell. Nearing the gunboat, the raiders suddenly heard the ship’s bell ring out five times: 2:30 a.m. Everything was going perfectly–then at about 100 yards came a sudden, nervous shot, “Boat ahoy! Boat ahoy!” Wood did not answer. “Boat ahoy! Boat ahoy!” Wood still did not respond and gained a few more valuable yards. Then out of the night came the ear-shattering clacking that they all dreaded: the lookout sprung the battle rattle, calling the crew to quarters.

The surprise was over. Wood yelled, “Give way! Give way strong!” Loyall and the other boat commanders took up the cry, “Give way, boys! Give way as you never did before!” They had to get under the Underwriter’s deck guns or be annihilated. The cutters shot forward.

On the Underwriter, all was instant chaos. The crew, dazed by sudden awakening, many undressed, stumbled out on deck half panic-stricken, but still not certain of the danger. Officers screamed commands, the armorer frantically distributed small arms, and the men hurried to light battle lanterns. The raiders could hear the slap of bare feet on deck and the jangle of loose equipment being kicked about. Then dim, shadowy figures appeared at the rail.

The flash of deadly small arms fire lit up the ship, clearly outlining the heads of the crew and allowing the raiders to mark their locations. Minie( balls smacked into wood and flesh. The marines stood in the bows of the rocking cutters and gave it their best shot. Then they were alongside! The coxswain of Wood’s boat, a giant of a Virginian, shouted and sneered, guiding the tiller which his knees as he waved two pistols in the air. Suddenly he lurched and fell forward, dead with a bullet in his forehead. The rudder, now loose, caused the boat to swerve from the intended boarding position at the fore gangway and to strike near the wheelhouse. By then most of the cutters had closed, and the raiders had thrown their grapnels over the ship’s rail, making the little boats fast with their prey. Westervelt had indeed felt oversecure: the anti-boarding nets were down.

Gift thought he saw the Underwriter trying to get underway and shouted to Midshipman John Scharf to disable her deck machinery with a bow howitzer. Scharf put his shell through the pilothouse without appreciable effect. As he readied to fire again, he saw the boarders swarming up the ship’s side and over the rail. Fearful of hitting fellow Confederates, he desisted.

Help HistoryNet by bookmarking to