His phantom sails unfurling
McDonough sweeps amain
Where once his Yankee sailors fought
The battle of Champlain!
And over Erie's waters,
Again his flagship sweeps,
While Perry on the quarter-deck
His endless vigil keeps.
Silent as mists that hover
When twilight shadows fall,
The ghosts of the royal armies
Foregather at the call;
And their glorious chiefs are with them,
From conflicts lost or won,
As they gather round one mighty shade,
The shade of Washington!
* * * * *
Side by side with the warships
That sail for the hostile fleet,
The ships of the Past are sailing
And the dauntless comrades meet;
And standing shoulder to shoulder,
The armèd spirits come,
And march with our own battalions
To the beat of the muffled drum!
Henry R. Dorr.
The fleet reached Santiago June 20, and Shafter decided to move directly upon the city. But the army had lost or forgotten its lighters and launches, so the task of disembarking it fell upon the navy and was admirably performed. Next morning, General Joseph Wheeler, with four squadrons of dismounted cavalry, was ordered forward. Two of these squadrons were composed of the "Rough Riders," under command of Leonard Wood and Theodore Roosevelt.
WHEELER'S BRIGADE AT SANTIAGO
Beneath the blistering tropical sun
The column is standing ready,
Awaiting the fateful command of one
Whose word will ring out
To an answering shout
To prove it alert and steady.
And a stirring chorus all of them sung
With singleness of endeavor,
Though some to "The Bonny Blue Flag" had swung
And some to "The Union For Ever."
The order came sharp through the desperate air
And the long ranks rose to follow,
Till their dancing banners shone more fair
Than the brightest ray
Of the Cuban day
On the hill and jungled hollow;
And to "Maryland" some in the days gone by
Had fought through the combat's rumble,
And some for "Freedom's Battle-Cry"
Had seen the broad earth crumble.
Full many a widow weeps in the night
Who had been a man's wife in the morning;
For the banners we loved we bore to the height
Where the enemy stood
As a hero should,
His valor his country adorning;
But drops of pride with your tears of grief,
Ye American women, mix ye!
For the North and South, with a Southron chief,
Kept time to the tune of "Dixie."