Read The Great American Steamboat Race Online
Authors: Benton Rain Patterson
Then suddenly at twenty minutes past ten shouts of “Here she comes!” burst from the crowd as the lights of an approaching steamer, still far off, appeared and all eyes turned downriver. It was the signal that the celebrants had been waiting for. The barrels filled with tar were set ablaze, their flames quickly leaping into the night, firecrackers popped, cannons thundered, and barrages of skyrockets shot up, brightening the dark sky with brilliant color — an altogether dazzling winner’s welcome to the city of Memphis. But as the approaching steamer came closer, the cheering spectators along the riverfront could see it wasn’t the
Robert E. Lee
. It wasn’t the
Natchez
either.
The
Thompson Dean
had left New Orleans a few days before the
Lee
and the
Natchez
, making its regular, comparatively unheralded run between New Orleans and Memphis, and here it came, as if crashing the party, its crew and
Riverfront at Memphis in 1862. The spectacular welcome that the people of Memphis planned for whichever boat was in the lead when the racers reached Memphis was set off prematurely when in the darkness the excited crowd mistook the steamer
Thompson Dean
for the
Robert E. Lee
(Library of Congress).
passengers doubtlessly embarrassed by the mistaken fuss it had set off, its captain sounding its whistle in sheepish response as the boat slowed and glided up to the wharf.
The cannons then were reloaded, and a search for more fireworks was begun. The premature display was not entirely wasted, however. So brilliantly arresting were the fireworks that those on board the
Robert E. Lee
could see them in the sky as the
Lee
came by Presidents Island, in the great bend of the river just below Memphis.
A half hour later, at 11
P
.
M
., the reporter in Memphis, recording every new, significant occurrence at the waterfront — although not bothering to mention the crowd’s awkward mistake — told his readers: “A bright light is just coming into view around President’s Island, six miles from the city. It is believed to be the
Lee
.”
This time it
was
the
Lee
. Quickly the reporter added to his dispatch: “11:04— The
Lee
has just arrived and is taking coal barges in tow. Enthusiasm is immense. The crowd is cheering, cannons firing and bonfires blazing.”
7
11 :10— The Lee has just left. Such an ovation has never been given to any boat before. The people are wild and bets are freely offered that she will beat the Natchez to Cairo one hour and fifteen minutes.
The
Natchez
had stopped long enough to put fourteen passengers ashore, then had slipped back out into the river and taken on coal from a pair of barges that had been waiting for it, losing another seventeen minutes in so doing. By the time both boats had passed Memphis, the
Lee
’s enthusiasts, seeing its big lead, were so ecstatic over the race’s progress that they were offering odds of ten to one that the
Lee
would reach St. Louis first.
9
The course northward from Memphis took the racing steamers past and through the group of islands called Paddy’s Hen and Chickens, site of the disastrous explosion and fire aboard the
Sultana
five years earlier, and twisted through the narrow, shallow channels in the darkness, which the
Natchez
’s adherents must have thought favored their boat, with its shallower draft. However, as the
Natchez
, running at racing speed again, steamed into the night, it ran into more bad luck, plowing into shoals again, off island No. 41 (the forty-first island in the river, counting downstream from Cairo), scraping its already bruised hull and once more forcing its pilot to back up repeatedly and churn loose from the river’s muddy bottom. The result was more lost time.
Through the labyrinth of islands the
Natchez
continued, threading its way past island No. 38, where it executed a sharp turn, then past Devil’s Bend and No. 37 and at last emerging onto a straight stretch that let it resume full speed.
Around five-thirty on Sunday morning, July 3, it drew abreast of Fort Pillow, then, just above the fort, it reached Plum Point, where on the morning of May 10, 1862, the Confederacy’s meager collection of civilian steamboats converted into warships to defend the Mississippi — the
General Bragg
(formerly the
Mexico
),
General Beauregard
(formerly the
Ocean
),
General Sterling Price
(formerly the
Laurent Millaudon
),
General Sumter
(formerly the
Junius Beebe
),
General Lovell
(formerly the
Hercules
),
General Jeff Thompson
(former name unknown),
General Van Dorn
(former name unknown) and the
Little Rebel
(formerly the
R & J Watson
)— won their lone victory over a Union fleet of ironclad gunboats, then had fallen back to Memphis to face a devastating defeat four weeks later.
On the
Natchez
raced, through another set of islands scattered in a narrow stretch of river, then back onto a wide straightaway, past Needham’s Island, which once had been a salient projecting into the river but now, cut off from the Arkansas shore by erosion, an island in the stream, then on beyond islands 21 and 20, then past Nos. 19 and 18, opposite the Missouri state line on the western shore.
Near island No. 14, shortly before Sunday noon, the
Natchez
came upon the steamer
Belle of Memphis
, approaching from upriver. While it was still a distance away, the
Belle of Memphis
courteously stopped her engines and paddle wheels to give the
Natchez
calm water as it steamed by, then saluted the racer with a whistle blast, which was returned by the
Natchez
.
At No. 14 Captain Leathers again consulted his watch. Two days, eighteen hours and sixteen minutes had elapsed since he had sped the
Natchez
past St. Mary’s Market, making the present run two hours and forty-two minutes better than the boat’s previously best time — but still running behind the
Robert E. Lee
.
The
Lee
had passed No. 14 almost exactly an hour earlier and was about fifteen miles in front of the
Natchez
. Passing the Tennessee-Kentucky border on the eastern shore, the
Lee
steamed on toward New Madrid, Missouri, on the west bank, and reached it around one
P
.
M
. Then came a straight, twelvemile stretch that ended at island No. 10, situated in an S-shaped curve above New Madrid. Island 10 was another memorable Civil War site, where the guns of a Confederate fortification had checked the Union Navy’s advance down the Mississippi until the U.S. gunboat
Carondelet
bravely ran past it. The
Carondelet
was captained by Commander Henry Walke, a daring and imaginative steamboat naval officer who insulated his vessel with cordwood, hawsers and chain and tied a coal barge loaded with hay to the gunboat’s larboard side to ward off shot as the
Carondelet
steamed defiantly downriver to the right of the island on the night of April 4, 1862. On April 6 the
Carondelet
, from its position below No. 10, turned its guns on the island’s batteries and, joined by the gunboat
Pittsburg
, knocked out several of them. The Confederates, seeing their position was no longer tenable, withdrew from the island and abandoned their fortification, opening the way for the U.S. gunboats’ drive on Memphis.
At island No. 8, roughly a thousand miles from New Orleans, some of Cannon’s friends aboard the
Robert E. Lee
noted its elapsed time since passing St. Mary’s Market as two days, twenty-one hours and seventeen minutes and computed the
Lee
’s average speed at more than fourteen miles an hour since the start of the race.
As the
Lee
passed No. 8, the town of Hickman, Kentucky, came in sight on the east side of the river. From Hickman a
St. Louis Republican
reporter filed the latest dispatch on the race :
The Lee passed the wharf here at 3:4 1
P
.
M
. [Sunday], railroad time, hurrying with unparalleled velocity. Clouds of spray were right and left by her hurrying bow, and the air was blackened with dense columns of smoke that issued from the heated chimneys. When the Lee appeared, the smoke from the Natchez was hardly visible twenty miles or more below. The whole population of the place — men, women and children — had been anxiously awaiting the arrival of the racers, and never before was there such a multitude upon the river banks as on this bright Sabbath afternoon.... As the Lee came up, the multitude greeted her with cheers loud and long. Two cannons, placed upon the wharf, were fired at short intervals, and the excitement of the multitude that thronged the river shore for a mile or more was boundless....
10
The reporter at Hickman also gave news of the
Natchez
, as well as his opinion of its chances: “The Natchez passed up at 4:45. There was great cheering, and the guns were again fired. The Natchez was gaining steadily on the Lee as she passed, but she is hopelessly beaten.”
11
From Columbus, Kentucky, the site of another strategic fortification lost by Confederate troops guarding the Mississippi, the
St. Louis Republican
’s reporter telegraphed:
The patience of the good people of this city and vicinity, who have been congregated along the river front nearly all day, has just been rewarded. The Lee passed at 4:41, apparently in splendid condition, driving through the water like some magic marine monster. She was munificently cheered. The Natchez is not heard from.
12
The reporter later telegraphed to say: “The
Natchez
passed here at 5:51
1
⁄
2
.”
13
Above Columbus came Lucas Bend, where island Nos. 4, 3 and 2 clustered, tightening the channel of the river. Then came island No. 1, and beyond it stood Cairo behind its protective levees.
At Cairo, at the juncture of the Ohio and Mississippi, crowds of onlookers had poured into town, some traveling considerable distances by train, to view the passing of the steamers, and by early Saturday evening many of them had begun to cluster and camp along the levee, making sure they would not miss the big event, uncertain about when exactly the racers would arrive. Both boats would have to refuel at Cairo, and the spectators figured they would get a good, long look at them at that coaling stop. A dispatch from Cairo published in the
Picayune
described the scene :
The levee here swarms with people come from far and near to witness this historical race. Not only has the whole population of Cairo, men, women, children, the infirm and the aged, without regard to race, color, sex or previous condition of servitude, turned out, but strangers from St. Louis, from Cincinnati, Louisville and the Ohio River towns, and from the railroad towns in Illinois, are here too, standing at the same time on the banks of the Mississippi....
14
As the
Robert E. Lee
came up to island No. 1 Cannon and his passengers could see the steamer
Idlewild
standing in the river. The
Idlewild
, its run ordinarily being between Evansville and Cairo, had come down the Ohio, stopped at Cairo, then had swung southward down the Mississippi and stopped at island No. 1, about twelve river miles below Cairo, to wait for the
Lee
. Aboard the
Idlewild
were some three hundred passengers, including a large group of excursionists who sought a close-up view of the racers, a number of other passengers who wanted to board the
Lee
and ride it to St. Louis on the final leg of the course, and two pilots, Enoch King and Jesse Jameson, who were especially knowledgeable of the vagaries of the river between Cairo and St. Louis, a stretch not so familiar to the
Lee
’s regular pilots, Wes Conner, James Pell and George Clayton, who were probably thankful to be relieved from their tasks during this critical last leg of the race.
Ever thinking ahead, Captain Cannon had made arrangements for the
Idlewild
to meet the
Lee
and bring him the pilots as well as to take from the
Lee
the passengers from New Orleans who had bought passage to Louisville and other stops along the Ohio. Those passengers would be transferred to the
Idlewild
in mid-stream, in the same way the
Lee
had taken on firewood from the
Frank Pargoud
.
Once the
Lee
was sighted, around five o’clock, Captain Gus Fowler of the
Idlewild
restarted his engines and as the
Lee
drew near, the
Idlewild
steamed upstream, its captain hoping to keep up with the
Lee
and, as one eyewitness believed, match its speed against the
Lee
’s. That idea was banished in a few minutes, assistant engineer John Wiest related, the
Lee
having to slow down to allow the
Idlewild
to stay abreast of it. The
Idlewild
performed the same act as the
Pargoud
had done, Wiest reported, casting off as soon as the passengers and baggage had been transferred, while the
Lee
resumed full speed, passing Cairo.
15
Having reached Cairo at six
P
.
M
., the
Robert E. Lee
had made it there from New Orleans in three days and one hour, beating the previous best time, made by the
A.L. Shotwell
, by two hours and forty minutes, thereby laying claim to another set of horns.
Cannon had also made arrangements for refueling at Cairo. Waiting near the Missouri side of the river was the steam tugboat
Montauk
with four barges loaded with coal, two for the
Robert E. Lee
and two for the
Natchez
. Perhaps because Cannon’s coal order had come to the supplier earlier than that of Captain Leathers — whose telegram ordering the coal and the arrangements was not received until Sunday, the day the coal was needed — the two barges of coal intended for the
Lee
were positioned toward midstream in the river for a relatively easy pick-up, and the two intended for the
Natchez
were positioned toward the Missouri shore, in shallow water that could pose a danger for the
Natchez
. The
Lee
slowed down to pick up the waiting barges. One was tied to the
Lee
’s larboard side, and the other to its starboard as it continued upstream, its crewmen manhandling 1,500 bushels of coal aboard the
Lee
in the process.