The Southern people thought that Island No. 10 could not be taken. On the 6th of March a newspaper at Memphis said:—
“For the enemy to get possession of Memphis and the Mississippi Valley would require an army of greater strength than Secretary Stanton can concentrate upon the banks of the Mississippi River. The gunboats in which they have so much confidence have proved their weakness. They cannot stand our guns of heavy calibre. The approach of the enemy by land to New Madrid induces us to believe that the flotilla is one grand humbug, and that it is not ready, and does not intend to descend the river. Foote, the commander of the Federal fleet, served his time under Commodore Hollins, and should he attempt to descend the river, Hollins will teach him that some things can be done as well as others.”[25]
On Saturday, the 15th of March, the fleet approached the island. The clouds were thick and lowering. The rain pattered on the decks of the gunboats, the fog settled upon the river. As the boats swept round a point of land, the old river pilot, who was on the watch, who knew every crook, turn, sand-bar, and all the objects along the bank, sung out, “Boat ahead!”
The sailors scrambled to the portholes; Captain Phelps sprang from the cabin to the deck.
There she was, a steamer, just visible through the fog a mile ahead. It was the Grampus, owned by Captain Chester of the steamer Alps, who had two of the mortar-boats in tow. He belonged to Pittsburg, and used to carry coal to Memphis. When the war broke out the Rebels seized his steamboats and his coal-barges, and refused to pay him for the coal they had already purchased. The act roused all his ire. He was a tall, athletic man, and had followed the river thirty years. Although surrounded by enemies, he gave them plain words.
“You are a set of thieves and rascals! You are cowards, every one of you!” he shouted.
He took off his coat, rolled up his shirt-sleeves, bared his great brawny arms, dashed his hat upon the ground.
“Now come on! I’ll fight every one of you, you infernal rascals! I’ll whip you all! I challenge you to fight me! You call yourselves chivalrous people. You say you believe in fair play. If I whip, you shall give up my boats, but if I am beaten, you are welcome to them.”
They laughed in his face, and said: “Blow away, old fellow. We have got your boats. Help yourself if you can.”
A hot-headed secessionist cried out, “Hang the Yankee!”