Just then a strange sound came, borne on the wind; a wild ringing cry from the four hundred and fifty on board the _Trenton_. The Americans were cheering the _Calliope_. Expecting death for themselves, they rejoiced that their friends might yet escape, and the heart of every Englishman went out to the brave Americans who gave their parting tribute to the Queen’s ship. There is something peculiarly touching in this incident. It is far above the _morituri te salutamus_ of the gladiator in the arena. It was an expression of immortal courage; the dying saluting the victor; the doomed saluting the saved; manhood distressed greeting manhood triumphant. The English seamen returned the cry. The _Calliope_ safely reached the sea. Her commander afterward said: “Those ringing cheers of the American flagship pierced deep into my heart, and I will ever remember that mighty outburst of fellow-feeling, which I felt came from the bottom of the hearts of the gallant admiral and his crew. Every man on board the _Calliope_ felt as I did; it made us work to win. I can only say, God bless America and her noble sailors.” Meanwhile the _Vandalia_, seeing her doom certain, endeavored to reach the beach, but being a much larger vessel than the _Nipsic_, she could not come so near the shore. A blow from a terrific wave in the night had hurled the captain across his cabin and so injured him that he was unable to control his vessel. His executive officer, Carlin, was in command, but the captain stood by his side to the last. Carlin’s coolness and nerve were wonderful. He had been on duty thirty consecutive hours, and had not tasted food all that time. In order to reach the beach, the _Vandalia_ was compelled to execute the same perilous feat that had been performed three hours before by the _Nipsic_. Slipping her anchors, she crowded on all steam and skirted the edge of the reef, finally dashing into the soft sand two hundred yards from the shore and eighty yards from the stern of the _Nipsic_. The engines were stopped and the fires put out; all hands were ordered on deck, and the vessel swung around broadside to the waves. At first, her position being supposed safe, it was thought the two hundred and forty men on board might well remain until the storm was over. The men were scattered about the deck and forecastle, clinging to the guns, the masts, rigging and sides of the ship. Within half an hour her real danger became apparent; she wallowed lower and lower in the yielding sand; more and more frequently the seas dashed over her, flooding the hatchways with water. Her boats were dashed from the davits and torn to pieces. It was attempted to fire lines to the shore, but all her powder was ruined. The spray and mist arose in such masses from the sides of the ship, that those on shore could hardly distinguish her position.