Magruder had already crossed his troops to the island. They marched swiftly through the deserted streets of the city, and, by the light of a waning moon, planted their batteries. At five o’clock on New Year’s morning, 1863, the attack began. It was a complete surprise to the Federals.
The ships of the blockading fleet, under the command of Commodore Renshaw, were nearly all within the bay. The Harriet Lane, commanded by Commodore Wainwright, was lying near the wharf. At a little distance was the iron-clad Westfield, Commodore Renshaw’s flag-ship, attended by the Owasco; still further out were the armed vessels, the Clifton and the Sachem, and the barges the Elias Park and the Cavallo.
The war-ships answered the fire of Magruder’s batteries with a terrific hail of iron; once the Confederate gunners were driven from their guns. But the Neptune and the Bayou City steamed up to the Harriet Lane and attacked her at close quarters, pouring a hot fire into her from behind the rampart of cotton bales.
The Neptune with a hole in her hull made by a cannon-ball soon sank in shallow water. The Bayou City was also disabled. The Confederate sharp-shooters leaped on board the Harriet Lane, and, after a bloody fight on her deck, captured her.[40] Commodore Wainwright was killed early in the action. First Lieutenant Lea was mortally wounded.
The Union infantry made a gallant resistance to the land attack, but they were finally obliged to surrender.
The Sachem, the Clifton, and the Owasco stood out to sea and escaped. The Westfield ran aground and was blown up to prevent her capture. Commodore Renshaw and his officers had left the vessel, but their boats were too near when the explosion took place prematurely, and they perished with her. The Harriet Lane and the barges, with several hundred prisoners, remained in the hands of the victors.
The loss in this battle on the Confederate side was twelve killed and seventy wounded. The Federals lost one hundred and fifty killed and many wounded.
Among the mortally wounded were two young soldiers, the story of whose death even yet stirs the heart to pity. One fell fighting under the starry cross of the Confederacy. The other dropped on the bloody deck of the Harriet Lane under the shadow of the stars and stripes. The Confederate was Lieutenant Sidney Sherman, son of the gallant veteran, General Sidney Sherman, who led the infantry charge at San Jacinto. The lieutenant was hardly more than a boy. The blood oozed from his wounds as he lay dying, but the smile of victory parted his lips. Suddenly his blue eyes grew soft and tender; “Break this gently to my mother,” he whispered. These were his last words.
The young Union soldier was Edward Lea, first lieutenant of the Harriet Lane. His wounds were also fatal. But as his life was ebbing away he heard his name spoken in a tone of agony. He opened his eyes. His father, Major Lea of the Confederate army, was kneeling beside him. Father and son had fought on opposite sides that dark New Year’s morning. The pale face of the young lieutenant lighted with joy; and when a little later the surgeon told him he had but a moment to live, he answered with the confidence of a little child and with his latest breath, “My father is here.”
The two lads cold in death rested almost side by side on their funeral biers that day,—brothers in death, brothers forever in the memory of those who looked upon their calm young faces.