The Battle of Samoa

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The Ballad of the ‘Calliope’

By the far Samoan shore,
Where the league-long rollers pour
All the wash of the Pacific on the coral-guarded bay,
Riding lightly at their ease,
In the calm of tropic seas,
The three great nations’ warships at their anchors proudly lay.

Riding lightly, head to wind,
With the coral reefs behind,
Three Germans and three Yankee ships were mirrored in the blue;
And on one ship unfurled
Was the flag that rules the world –
For on the old `Calliope’ the flag of England flew.

When the gentle off-shore breeze,
That had scarcely stirred the trees,
Dropped down to utter stillness, and the glass began to fall,
Away across the main
Lowered the coming hurricane,
And far away to seaward hung the cloud wrack like a pall.

If the word had passed around,
`Let us move to safer ground;
Let us steam away to seaward’ — then this tale were not to tell!
But each Captain seemed to say
`If the others stay, I stay!’
And they lingered at their moorings till the shades of evening fell.

Then the cloud wrack neared them fast,
And there came a sudden blast,
And the hurricane came leaping down a thousand miles of main!
Like a lion on its prey,
Leapt the storm fiend on the bay,
And the vessels shook and shivered as their cables felt the strain.

As the surging seas came by,
That were running mountains high,
The vessels started dragging, drifting slowly to the lee;
And the darkness of the night
Hid the coral reefs from sight,
And the Captains dared not risk the chance to grope their way to sea.

In the dark they dared not shift!
They were forced to wait and drift;
All hands stood by uncertain would the anchors hold or no.
But the men on deck could see
If a chance of hope might be –
There was little chance of safety for the men who were below.

Through that long, long night of dread,
While the storm raged overhead,
They were waiting by their engines, with the furnace fires aroar.
So they waited, staunch and true,
Though they knew, and well they knew,
They must drown like rats imprisoned if the vessel touched the shore.

When the grey dawn broke at last,
And the long, long night was past,
While the hurricane redoubled, lest its prey should steal away,
On the rocks, all smashed and strewn,
Were the German vessels thrown,
While the Yankees, swamped and helpless, drifted shorewards down the bay.

Then at last spoke Captain Kane,
`All our anchors are in vain,
And the Germans and the Yankees they have drifted to the lee!
Cut the cables at the bow!
We must trust the engines now!
Give her steam, and let her have it, lads, we’ll fight her out to sea!’

And the answer came with cheers
From the stalwart engineers,
From the grim and grimy firemen at the furnaces below;
And above the sullen roar
Of the breakers on the shore
Came the throbbing of the engines as they laboured to and fro.

If the strain should find a flaw,
Should a bolt or rivet draw,
Then — God help them! for the vessel were a plaything in the tide!
With a face of honest cheer,
Quoth an English engineer,
`I will answer for the engines that were built on old Thames side!

`For the stays and stanchions taut,
For the rivets truly wrought,
For the valves that fit their faces as a glove should fit the hand.
Give her every ounce of power,
If we make a knot an hour
Then it’s way enough to steer her and we’ll drive her from the land.’

Like a foam flake tossed and thrown,
She could barely hold her own,
While the other ships all helplessly were drifting to the lee.
Through the smother and the rout
The `Calliope’ steamed out –
And they cheered her from the Trenton that was foundering in the sea.

Aye! drifting shoreward there,
All helpless as they were,
Their vessel hurled upon the reefs as weed ashore is hurled.
Without a thought of fear
The Yankees raised a cheer –
A cheer that English-speaking folk should echo round the world.

A.B. “Banjo” Patterson
 

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"THE MEN OF THE TRENTON"
Respectfully offered to Rear Admiral Lewis A. Kimberly, U. S. Navy
New York, March 15th, 1890 by John Malone
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Through the black hurricane hear
The hearty English Cheer!
Defiance to death and fear;
By half a thousand throats out-thrown,
From the decks of the "Trenton"


Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
'Tis the salvo of the stars
To Saint George's crossed bars,
As the sturdy British Tars
Steer their ship into the arms of the Storm,
Slowly past the "Trenton"


Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Hearts that beat 'neath Berserk shields,
Hearts that crimsoned holy fields;
Bore, of old, the blood that yields;
That brother - hail of death doomed valor
From the men of the "Trenton"


Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Sea-Eagles of the Elder strain
The Saxon, Gall, Scot, Norse and Dane
Were mated in War's bloody rain
And we, their brood, join death-song greetings
With our brothers of the "Trenton"


Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Clontarf, Culloden, Fontenoy
The battle-blasts where the alloy
Was forged, which Kings cannot destroy
To the stern music of the song we chant
With the men of the "Trenton"


Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
How the brave tongues gave bay
From Lucknow, Balaklava and the gray
War dusk of Nelson's glorious day!
And their echos out-thunder the wild sea's thunder
Around the helpless "Trenton"


Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Breast to breast in the New Eggle-Land
We smot each other with steel-clad hand,
And the blows but-toughened the welded bond
Theat ties our hearts, brave lads, to yours,
Brave lads on board the "Trenton"


Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Ye had your fiery trial too,
When your fathers in gray and your fathers in blue
Laid their hat brows in the glory dew
That their sons might be shoulder to shoulder today
'Neath the starry flag of the "Trenton"


Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Whatever the fate that betides ye,
God and Saint-George abide ye!
Though we leave ye, we fondly confide ye
To the kindred love of the age unborn,
Heroic hearts of the "Trenton"
 
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