Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 103, Sep. 24, 1892 by Various


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Page 3

'ARRY.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE FIGHTING "FOUDROYANT."]

* * * * *

[Illustration: "TWO'S COMPANY."

_Newspaper Boy_ (_suddenly, at window_). "WANT AN _OBSERVER_,
CAPTAIN?"

_Mathilde_ (_on Honeymoon Trip_). "OH, FREDDIE, DEAR! NO! NO!! _DO_
LET US BE QUITE ALONE!"]

* * * * *

THE FIGHTING "FOUDROYANT"

BEING TUGGED TO ITS LAST BERTH--IN A SHIPBREAKER'S YARD.

(_A THEME FROM TURNER TREATED IN MODERN BRITISH STYLE, WITH APOLOGIES
TO THE PATRIOTIC PAINTER OF "THE FIGHTING 'T�M�RAIRE.'"_)

"Mayhap you have heard, that as dear as their lives,
All true-hearted Tars love their ships and their wives."
So DIBDIN declared, and he spoke for the Tar;
He knew Jack so well, both in peace and in war!
But hang it! times change, and 'tis sad to relate,
The old Dibdinish morals seem quite out of date;
Stick close to your ship, lads, like pitch till you die?--
That sounds nonsense to-day, and I'll tell ye for why.

The good old _Foudroyant_--how memory dwells on
Those brave fighting names!--was once flag-ship to NELSON.
But NELSON, you know, died a good while ago,
And his flag-ship has gone a bit shaky, and so
JOHN BULL, who's now full of low shopkeeping cares,
And thinks more of the Stocks than of naval affairs,
Regards not "Old Memories," that "eat off their head."
Turn old cracks out to grass? No, let's sell 'em instead!

A ship's like the high-mettled racer once sung
By that same dashing DIBDIN of patriot tongue,
Grown aged, used up, is he honoured? No, zounds!
"The high-mettled racer is sold to the hounds!"
And so with a barky of glorious name,
(It is business, of course--_and a Thundering Shame!_)
Worn out, she is nought but spars, timbers and logs,
And so, like the horse, should be sold--to the dogs!

As for the _Foudroyant_, the vessel was trim
When it fought with the French, for JOHN BULL, under _Him_,
The Star of the Nile. Yes, it carried _his_ flag,
When it captured the Frenchman. There's no need to brag,
Or to say swagger things of a generous foe.
Besides, things have doosedly altered, you know.
_We_'re no more like NELSON than I to a Merman;
_We_ can sell his flag-ship for firewood, to the German!

Sounds nice, does it not? If that great one-armed Shade
Could look down on the bargain he'd--swear, I'm afraid
(If his death-purged bold spirit held yet ought of earth).
And I fancy 'twill move the gay Frenchman to mirth
To hear this last story of shop-keeping JOHN--
Or his huckster officials. The Frenchman, the Don,
The Dutchman, all foes we have licked,--may wax bold
When they hear that the brave old _Foudroyant_ is--Sold!!!

Great TURNER has pictured the old _T�m�raire_
Tugged to _her_ last berth. Why the sun and the air
In that soul-stirring canvas, seem fired with the glory
Of such a brave ship, with so splendid a story!
Well, look on that picture, my lads, and on _this_!
And--no, do not crack out a curse like a hiss,
But with stout CONAN DOYLE--_he_ has passion and grip!--
Demand that they give us back NELSON's old Ship!

British hands from protecting her who shall debar?
Ne'er ingratitude lurked in the heart of a Tar.
"(Sings DIBDIN) That Ship from the breakers to save"
Is the plainest of duties e'er put on the brave.
While a rag, or a timber, or spar, she can boast,
A place of prime honour on Albion's coast
Should be hers and the _Victory's!_ Let us not say,
Like the fish-hucksters, "_Memories_ are cheap, Sir, to-day!"

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Thu 9th Jan 2025, 2:42