BATTLE OF PEMAQUID BAY

BATTLE OF PEMAQUID BAY

All over the world the dead quietly lie,

Moss and lichen lend freckled scars, chipped letters fading by.

The inscriptions flaking from granite stones, stories turned to dust,

Time and distance, ancient tears turn not just nails to rust.

In a quiet, peaceful cemetery, a tablet tells a story,

Combatants who died for their cause, not for honour and glory.

A dual grave from years gone by in Portland USA,

Longfellow once wrote “I remember a sea fight, far, far away”

On the fifth of September 1813, two ships met in Pemaquid Bay,

Captain Samuel Blyth of the ‘Boxer’ didn’t see out the day.

This brave hero nailed his colours to the mast,

“This ship will never surrender” those words his last.

The first blast of cannon from ‘Enterprise’ shot him through,

The reapers flaming scythe harvested others from his crew.

Some seamen deserted their posts in a terrible manner,

Refusing to bear arms against the ‘star spangled banner’.

Outgunned and outmanned, ‘Boxer’ staggered in pain,

Masts shattered, with sails whipped free from the strain.

Lieutenant William Burrows moved in to capture his prize,

But, that was a mistake; a musket ball sealed his demise.

The ‘Jack’ was torn down from ‘Boxer’, all scarred and gored,

As the dying Burrows was presented Blyth’s’ ceremonial sword.

Though mortally wounded, he waved it away and said

“I am satisfied, I can die contented.”

Enterprise and Boxer limped to the quayside,

The quiet crowds gathered around all those who had died.

The glory of battle displayed in all its awful, bloody truth,

Captains so brave, lying dead, torn from their youth.

So now there they lie, in a cemetery in Portland, Maine,

Two hundred years since the battle and the pain.

Blyth and Burrows once foe on sea and land

Entered Heaven as comrades in death hand in hand.

Captain Samuel Blyth, once of Boxer, his Majesty’s brig,

Re-united with his sword and his proud Captains rig.

These lonely words carved on the memorial rolls

“His country will long deplore the loss of one of her bravest souls”.

Phil Hall            June 2012

This poem was inspired by a walk in a cemetery one day and reading the inscriptions on the tombstones. Every stone had a tale to tell. 

           

I researched the short life of Captain Samuel Blyth after reading about him in a superb book called 'JackTar'. I was moved by his story and it reminded me of my favourite poem 'The Soldier' by Rupert Brooke (1887-1915) 

If I should die, think only this of me:

That there'e some corner of a foreign field

That is forever England. There shall be 

In that rich earth a richer dust concealed......

May all our sons of England lay in far off ground, rest in peace.