A Memphis newspaper, of the 6th of May, said:—
“Tennessee is disenthralled at last. Freedom has again crowned her with a fresh and fadeless wreath. She will do her entire duty. Great sacrifices are demanded of her, and they will be cheerfully made. Her blood and treasure are offered without stint at the shrine of Southern freedom. She counts not the cost at which independence may be bought. The gallant volunteer State of the South, her brave sons, now rushing to the standard of the Southern Confederacy, will sustain, by their unflinching valor and deathless devotion, her ancient renown achieved on so many battle-fields.
“In fact, our entire people—men, women, and children—have engaged in this fight, and are animated by the single heroic and indomitable resolve to perish rather than submit to the despicable invader now threatening us with subjugation. They will ratify the ordinance of secession amid the smoke and carnage of battle; they will write out their indorsement of it with the blood of their foe; they will enforce it at the point of the bayonet and sword.
“Welcome, thrice welcome, glorious Tennessee, to the thriving family of Southern Confederate States!”[27]
On the same day the citizens of Memphis tore down the Stars and Stripes from its staff upon the Court-House, formed a procession, and with a band of music bore the flag, like a corpse, to a pit, and buried it in mock solemnity. They went into the public square, where stands the statue of General Jackson, and chiselled from its pedestal his memorable words: “The Federal Union,—it must be preserved.” They went to the river-bank, and seized all the steamboats they could lay their hands upon belonging to Northern men.
They resolved to build a fleet of gunboats, which would ascend the river to St. Louis, Cincinnati, and Pittsburg, and compel the people of those cities to pay tribute, for the privilege of navigating the river to the Gulf.
The entire population engaged in the enterprise. The ladies held fairs and gave their jewelry. The citizens organized themselves into a gunboat association. When the boats were launched, the ladies, with appropriate ceremonies, dedicated them to the Confederacy. They urged their husbands, brothers, sons, and friends to enlist in the service, and the young man who hesitated received presents of hoop-skirts, petticoats, and other articles of female wearing apparel.
Eight gunboats were built. Commodore Hollins, as you have seen, commanded them. He attempted to drive back General Pope at New Madrid, but failed. He went to New Orleans, and Captain Montgomery was placed in command.
When Commodore Foote and General Pope took Island No. 10, those that escaped of the Rebels fell back to Fort Pillow, about forty miles above Memphis. It was a strong position, and Commodore Foote made but little effort to take it, but waited for the advance of General Halleck’s army upon Corinth. While thus waiting, one foggy morning, several of the Rebel gunboats made a sudden attack upon the Cincinnati, and nearly disabled her before they were beaten back. Meanwhile, Commodore Foote, finding that his wound, received at Donelson, was growing worse, was recalled by the Secretary of the Navy, and Commodore Charles Henry Davis, of Cambridge, Massachusetts, was placed in command.
Besides the gunboats on the Mississippi, was Colonel Ellet’s fleet of rams,—nine in all. They were old steamboats, with oaken bulwarks three feet thick, to protect the boilers and engines. Their bows had been strengthened with stout timbers and iron bolts, and they had iron prows projecting under water. They carried no cannon, but were manned by sharpshooters. There were loop-holes through the timbers for the riflemen. The pilot-house was protected by iron plates. They joined the fleet at Fort Pillow.