DOI issue:
February 5, 1887
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17657#0082
72 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [February 5, 1887.
tinuing narrative of events that led to his resignation, Randolph
fell into trick of saying',—
"lam sure my Right Hon. Friend, and my Noble Friend, will bear
me out when I say-"
All very well once. But repetition of invitation grew maddening.
Pretty to see Smith furtively turn-
ing up sleeves, and feeling his biceps,
whilst Lord George Hamilton
wrestled with his knee. What
would the Speaker say if they,
yielding to temptation, rose together,
made a rush at the corner seat, and
justified Randolph's confidence by
"bearing him out."
Full success of speech rather
marred by strategic movement of
our Chief. Turned on fog just before
Randolph rose. Increased in inten-
sity throughout speech. Figures
gradually lost to view, till not much
left of Randolph save the red rose
in button - hole, which gleamed
through the fog like a danger-signal
_ on a railway-track. Now's the time
„_, . . , ,, for " My Right Hon. and my Noble
" I'm agm repression anywhere. jtriends ! "
"I'm sure," said the voice near the red rose, "my Right Hon.
Friend and my Noble Friend will bear me out when I say-"
"Would they ? Smith glanced nervously at Lord George ; Lord
George, finally throwing his knee, began nervously to tear a copy of
the Orders to pieces. It was a critical moment. But hesitation was
fatal. A few more sentences and the voice ceased; the red rose was
observed to drop a foot or two. Randolph had resumed his seat, and
opportunity had fled.
Business done.—Address moved.
Friday.—Colonel Saunderson delivered lively address, on what he
called "the crisises in Ireland."
" Why f " asked new Member, " does he call it crisises ? "
"Because," said Campbell Bannerman, "he naturally wants to
make the most of it."
Not many Members present, and after Saunderson, things rather
dull. Hicks-Beach stirred up Irish Members with long pole and
led to a little scene. Irish Members after their recent habit called
out " Shame ! " Speaker said word unparliamentary. Will " take
notice" (" As if he were a baby," John Dillon whispers) if the cry
is repeated. "Shame! shame!" Irish Members murmur among
themselves, but take care Speaker doesn't hear.
Business done.—Debate on Address.
"the revenge.
A Ballad of the Ordnance.
I'll tell you the story, my Masters, for I was one of the crew,
Who mann'd the Revenge in the Roossian_ war of eighteen-ninety-
I'm one of the seven heroes—you can put it so if you like, [two,
Who lived to tell of the famous fight, when we sunk her rather than
strike.
The last of the seven survivors. And eighteen years ago,
A score and more sat down to dine in public all of a row,
But the annual banquet thinn'd us, and the Music Halls tell at last,
And the Charity Organisers make history very fast.
Our ship was built by an English firm for a foreign naval pow'r,
But they sold the ship and the foreigner too, in Britain's trial hour;
So we knew that the craft was smart and staunch, as money and skill
_ could make her,
And if it hadn't been for her guns, no vessel afloat could take her.
But they used to serve self-acting guns to the Navy of that day,
That drove the breech-piece through the side, or blew the muzzle
away: [necks,
And the crews jumped overboard, and waited in water up to their
'Till the iron shards had settled themselves a little about the decks.
But it didn t answer m action when the enemy's fire was hot,
For we stood to our guns and cheered like mad, but never returned a
shot.
But ours was the fastest ship afloat, and armed with a terrible beak,
So most of the cruise m '92 was a game of hide-and-seek,
For we sank the powerfullest ironclads with our ram at a single blow.
And many a mast-head flag I snatched as the vessel was sucked
below.
Onelbrilliant summer morning a squadron hove in sight;
Lor', how we cheered, for all our chaps were spoiling for a fight,
And down, full-speed, upon the fleet our gallant vessel bore
With a mighty rift in the sea behind, and a pillar of foam before.
And snowy fleeces slowly round the Russian war-ships grew,
And vivid flashes lit the way as monster bolts tore through;
But she ducked and dodged like a playful dog as higher the smoke
arose,
And quivered and shook with the joy of battle, hurling upon her
foes.
And the deadly space grew shorter, till plain the foe we saw,
And the triumph in their faces changed suddenly to awe:
"Hi! Hi! You've crossed a dozen mines!" the Russian Captain
cried,
" You 're out of action, you lubbers ! " And we crashed through his
iron side.
Ship after ship with foaming jaws the thirsty ocean drank
As fast before our deadly prow they shuddered and reeled and sank;
But still with floating pall of smoke fresh war-ships round us drew,
And still, as fast as one was sunk, we had to tackle two.
Our vessel^ reeled and staggered, too; in swathes her heroes fell,
As round and through and over us came tons of shot and shell;
And her plates like sheets were flapping, and cheerly above the din
Whenever they gave a loud rat-tat, our Captain cried, " Come in! "
The still sea-floor was strewn with wrecks and guns and gallant dead,
Whose stony eyes stared up to mock the tumult overhead ;
And fiercer still the fight went on, till, when the sun was low,
Our shatter'dship could neither stand nor deal another blow.
And then the Captain called us round; the fight grew slack, it
seem'd.
As through the rolling mounds of smoke the muffled sunset beam'd;
And when the lees of that strong crew were gathered round to hear,
You could not see how few we were : you heard it in our cheer.
" My lads," he said, " you've fought this day as Englishmen should
fight,
We've kept all day a fleet at bay—we won't give in at night.
The water through our riven sides is pouring in by tons—
We cannot win—we will not strike—now, lads, to fire the guns! "
Unwitting of that stern resolve the Russians closer drew,
While still in triumph at the peak the British ensign flew ;
But vultures wheel, and sea-birds scream, when through the vessel
runs
That last stern whisper of the brave—"We're going to fire the
guns!"
* * * * * *
And still in fearful whispers the Russian sailor tells
How the air grew dark with muzzles, and jackets, and coils, and
shells,
And part of a forty-three-ton gun hit the Admiral on the head,
And he cried, "It is grand—but it is not war"—and his gallant
spirit fled.
And so the Revenge, unconquered, went down by the Baltic shores,
And they punished the seven survivors for wasting the Ordnance
stores;
And they've issued a gun that a child could fire, and none of it
blows away;
The others were good enough for us—the Navy has had its day!
Procedure and Progress.
Procedure comes first! Well no doubt they know best.
But what if the first item swallow the rest ?
And of paradox surely it seems an exposure,
To say that the Session must open with Closure !
Coal and Wine Duties that no one can object to.—Lady
Bountieul's distribution of fuel and "invalid port" amongst the
destitute sick this severe winter.
The Per-verse Poet.
Have you Parleyings read by Bob Browning ?
Of which the absurdity crowning
Is the Fates' "Tralala,"
Their "Bah! Ha! ha! ha!"
Which sounds, we should say, much like clowning.
A Disclaimer.—The Daily News begs to disclaim any connection
with the War Cry. Quite another booth in the fair.
igg- TO COKBESPONDENTS.—In no case can Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, or Drawings, be returned, unless accompanied
by a Stamped and Directed Envelope or Cover. Copies of MS, should be kept by the Senders.
tinuing narrative of events that led to his resignation, Randolph
fell into trick of saying',—
"lam sure my Right Hon. Friend, and my Noble Friend, will bear
me out when I say-"
All very well once. But repetition of invitation grew maddening.
Pretty to see Smith furtively turn-
ing up sleeves, and feeling his biceps,
whilst Lord George Hamilton
wrestled with his knee. What
would the Speaker say if they,
yielding to temptation, rose together,
made a rush at the corner seat, and
justified Randolph's confidence by
"bearing him out."
Full success of speech rather
marred by strategic movement of
our Chief. Turned on fog just before
Randolph rose. Increased in inten-
sity throughout speech. Figures
gradually lost to view, till not much
left of Randolph save the red rose
in button - hole, which gleamed
through the fog like a danger-signal
_ on a railway-track. Now's the time
„_, . . , ,, for " My Right Hon. and my Noble
" I'm agm repression anywhere. jtriends ! "
"I'm sure," said the voice near the red rose, "my Right Hon.
Friend and my Noble Friend will bear me out when I say-"
"Would they ? Smith glanced nervously at Lord George ; Lord
George, finally throwing his knee, began nervously to tear a copy of
the Orders to pieces. It was a critical moment. But hesitation was
fatal. A few more sentences and the voice ceased; the red rose was
observed to drop a foot or two. Randolph had resumed his seat, and
opportunity had fled.
Business done.—Address moved.
Friday.—Colonel Saunderson delivered lively address, on what he
called "the crisises in Ireland."
" Why f " asked new Member, " does he call it crisises ? "
"Because," said Campbell Bannerman, "he naturally wants to
make the most of it."
Not many Members present, and after Saunderson, things rather
dull. Hicks-Beach stirred up Irish Members with long pole and
led to a little scene. Irish Members after their recent habit called
out " Shame ! " Speaker said word unparliamentary. Will " take
notice" (" As if he were a baby," John Dillon whispers) if the cry
is repeated. "Shame! shame!" Irish Members murmur among
themselves, but take care Speaker doesn't hear.
Business done.—Debate on Address.
"the revenge.
A Ballad of the Ordnance.
I'll tell you the story, my Masters, for I was one of the crew,
Who mann'd the Revenge in the Roossian_ war of eighteen-ninety-
I'm one of the seven heroes—you can put it so if you like, [two,
Who lived to tell of the famous fight, when we sunk her rather than
strike.
The last of the seven survivors. And eighteen years ago,
A score and more sat down to dine in public all of a row,
But the annual banquet thinn'd us, and the Music Halls tell at last,
And the Charity Organisers make history very fast.
Our ship was built by an English firm for a foreign naval pow'r,
But they sold the ship and the foreigner too, in Britain's trial hour;
So we knew that the craft was smart and staunch, as money and skill
_ could make her,
And if it hadn't been for her guns, no vessel afloat could take her.
But they used to serve self-acting guns to the Navy of that day,
That drove the breech-piece through the side, or blew the muzzle
away: [necks,
And the crews jumped overboard, and waited in water up to their
'Till the iron shards had settled themselves a little about the decks.
But it didn t answer m action when the enemy's fire was hot,
For we stood to our guns and cheered like mad, but never returned a
shot.
But ours was the fastest ship afloat, and armed with a terrible beak,
So most of the cruise m '92 was a game of hide-and-seek,
For we sank the powerfullest ironclads with our ram at a single blow.
And many a mast-head flag I snatched as the vessel was sucked
below.
Onelbrilliant summer morning a squadron hove in sight;
Lor', how we cheered, for all our chaps were spoiling for a fight,
And down, full-speed, upon the fleet our gallant vessel bore
With a mighty rift in the sea behind, and a pillar of foam before.
And snowy fleeces slowly round the Russian war-ships grew,
And vivid flashes lit the way as monster bolts tore through;
But she ducked and dodged like a playful dog as higher the smoke
arose,
And quivered and shook with the joy of battle, hurling upon her
foes.
And the deadly space grew shorter, till plain the foe we saw,
And the triumph in their faces changed suddenly to awe:
"Hi! Hi! You've crossed a dozen mines!" the Russian Captain
cried,
" You 're out of action, you lubbers ! " And we crashed through his
iron side.
Ship after ship with foaming jaws the thirsty ocean drank
As fast before our deadly prow they shuddered and reeled and sank;
But still with floating pall of smoke fresh war-ships round us drew,
And still, as fast as one was sunk, we had to tackle two.
Our vessel^ reeled and staggered, too; in swathes her heroes fell,
As round and through and over us came tons of shot and shell;
And her plates like sheets were flapping, and cheerly above the din
Whenever they gave a loud rat-tat, our Captain cried, " Come in! "
The still sea-floor was strewn with wrecks and guns and gallant dead,
Whose stony eyes stared up to mock the tumult overhead ;
And fiercer still the fight went on, till, when the sun was low,
Our shatter'dship could neither stand nor deal another blow.
And then the Captain called us round; the fight grew slack, it
seem'd.
As through the rolling mounds of smoke the muffled sunset beam'd;
And when the lees of that strong crew were gathered round to hear,
You could not see how few we were : you heard it in our cheer.
" My lads," he said, " you've fought this day as Englishmen should
fight,
We've kept all day a fleet at bay—we won't give in at night.
The water through our riven sides is pouring in by tons—
We cannot win—we will not strike—now, lads, to fire the guns! "
Unwitting of that stern resolve the Russians closer drew,
While still in triumph at the peak the British ensign flew ;
But vultures wheel, and sea-birds scream, when through the vessel
runs
That last stern whisper of the brave—"We're going to fire the
guns!"
* * * * * *
And still in fearful whispers the Russian sailor tells
How the air grew dark with muzzles, and jackets, and coils, and
shells,
And part of a forty-three-ton gun hit the Admiral on the head,
And he cried, "It is grand—but it is not war"—and his gallant
spirit fled.
And so the Revenge, unconquered, went down by the Baltic shores,
And they punished the seven survivors for wasting the Ordnance
stores;
And they've issued a gun that a child could fire, and none of it
blows away;
The others were good enough for us—the Navy has had its day!
Procedure and Progress.
Procedure comes first! Well no doubt they know best.
But what if the first item swallow the rest ?
And of paradox surely it seems an exposure,
To say that the Session must open with Closure !
Coal and Wine Duties that no one can object to.—Lady
Bountieul's distribution of fuel and "invalid port" amongst the
destitute sick this severe winter.
The Per-verse Poet.
Have you Parleyings read by Bob Browning ?
Of which the absurdity crowning
Is the Fates' "Tralala,"
Their "Bah! Ha! ha! ha!"
Which sounds, we should say, much like clowning.
A Disclaimer.—The Daily News begs to disclaim any connection
with the War Cry. Quite another booth in the fair.
igg- TO COKBESPONDENTS.—In no case can Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, or Drawings, be returned, unless accompanied
by a Stamped and Directed Envelope or Cover. Copies of MS, should be kept by the Senders.