THE BALLAD OF THE CLAMPHERDOWN, OR, Our Modern Navy.

Te Aroha News, Volume VIII, Issue 484, 28 June 1890, Page 6

THE BALLAD OF THE CLAMPHERDOWN, OR, Our Modern Navy.

It was our warship Clampherdown, Would sweep the Channel clean, Wherefore sho kept her hatches close When the merry Channel chops arose, To save the bleached marine. There was one bow-gun of a hundred ton, And a great stern-gun beside ; They dipped their noses deep in the sea They racked their stays and stanchions free, In the wash of the wind-whipped tide. It was our warship Clampherdown, Fell in with a cruiser tight, That carried the dainty Hotchkiss gun And a pair o’ heels wherewith to run, From the grip of a close-fought fight. They opened fire at seven miles— As ye shoot at a bobbing cork— And once they fired and twice they fired, And the bow-gun dropped like a lily tired, That lolls upon the stalk. ‘ Captain, the bow-gun melts apace, Tho deck-beams break below, ’Twere well to rest tor an hour or twain, And botch the shattered plates again,’ And he answered, ‘ Make it so.’ They opened fire within the mile— As ye shoot at the flying duck— And the great stern-guns shot fair and true, With the heave of the ship, to the stainless blue, And the great stern-turret stuck. ‘ Captain, the turret fills with steam. The feed-pipes burst below— You can hear the hiss of tho helpless ram, You can hear the twisted runners jam,’ And ho answered, ‘ Turn and go!’ It was our warship Clampherdown, And grimly did she roll; Swung round to lake the cruiser’s fire As the White Whale faces the Thresher’s ire. When they war by the frozen Pole. • Captain, the shells are falling fast, And faster still fall we ; And it is not meet for English stock To wait, in the heart of an eight-day clock, The death they cannot see.’ ‘Lie down, lie down, iny bold .A. 8., We drift upon her beam ; We dare not ram, for she will run; And dare ye fire anothe gun, And die in the peeling steam? It was our warship Clampherdown That bore an armour-belt; But fifty feet at stern and how Lay bare as the paunch of the purser's sow, 10 the hail of the Nordenfeldt. 1 Cap'ain, they pierce the bow-plates through, The chilled steel bolts are swift! We have emptied the bunkers in open sea. Their shrapnel bursts where our coal should be,’ And he answered, ‘Let her drift,’ It was our warship Clampherdown, Swung round upon the tide. Her two dumb guns glared south and north, And the blood and the bubbling steam ran forth, And she ground the cruiser’s side. * Captain, they cry the fight is done; They bid you send your sword.’ And he answered, “ Grapple her stern and bow. They have asked for ths steel. They shall have it how; Out cut-hisses and board!’ It was our warship Clampherdown Spewed up lour hundred men; And the scalded stokers yelped delight As they rolled in the waist and heard the fight Rave o’er their steel-walled pen. They cleared the cruiser end to end, From conning-tower to hold. They fought as they fought in Nelson’s fleet; They were stripped to the waist, they were bare of the feet, As it was in the days of old. It was the sinking Clampherdown Heaved up her battered side— And carried a million pounds in steel. To the cod and the corpse-fed conger-eel, And the scour of the channel tide. It was the crew of the Clampherdown Stood out to sweep the sea. On a cruiser won from an ancient foe. As it was in the days of long ago And as it still shall be. —“St, James’s Gazette, -