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My Colossus - Poem
By Todd Stephens Todd Stevens on 21 September 2008
HMS Colossus, previously and wrongly dubbed a store-ship, was one of Lord Nelson’s fastest warships of the inshore squadron. She was wrecked on the Southard Wells Reef south of Samson Island during a gale in December 1798. This 74 gun warship was returning to England loaded with wounded from the battle of the Nile. The ship was also carrying eight large crates of ancient Greek pottery that Ambassador to Naples, Sir William Hamilton, had plundered from various sepulchres\graves of Greek antiquity. These were being shipped due to the evacuation of Naples to flee the advancing armies of Napoleon. The vases, made 500 years before the birth of Christ, were to be sold, by Sir William, to the British Museum.
It is well recorded that Lord Nelson was having an affair with Sir William Hamilton’s wife, Lady Emma Hamilton, at this time. Lady Emma used to dance around these vases and these performances were called “Emma’s Attitudes”
Very few of the collection of an estimated 1500 vases were saved from the wreck of the Colossus, and although it was merely circumstances and poor judgment that conspired in the demise of the ship, many Greeks believe it was the will of the Gods.
As mentioned in the poem, Roman God Apollo has always been the emblem or figurehead of every warship called Colossus.
The full story of this shipwreck can be found in another publication by this author entitled Wreck of Colossus. visit-www.hmscolossus.co.uk
An Original Poem By
Todd Stevens
copyright 2008
Some said she was a store ship,
tho’ this ne’er was her boast,
-as she sailed with Admirals colours raised
-and to blockade the Spanish coast.
The inshore squadron was her duty,
-the swift and sure with this were graced,
-beside Orion, Theseus and Bellerophon,
-Colossus took her pride of place.
In action at the Ile de Groix, – her guns roared the short divide,
-and playing heartily aloft,
her piper’s rally filled the sky.
Amidst the fray where yard arms clashed,
-and men fought eye to eye,
-with guns run out and flames unleashed,
-they let the cannon fly.
When her warring days were over, – and escort duty was the task,
-she was loaded beneath Vesuvius,
-with Greek antiquities from the past.
A course set for dear old England,
-and men climbed among the shrouds,
and billowing the sails aloft,
-she strived to emulate the clouds.
She beat her way across Biscay,
and the stormy channel home,
-better days the grand old ship had seen, – Oaken walls now creaking in the foam.
If she’d not met with a disastrous end,
-among Scilly’s rocks so hard,
-back home at dear old blighty,
-she’d have seen the knacker’s yard.
Her demise was more romantic,
-her name in history was etched, – she and her cargo to the bottom went
-and became a total wreck.
Tho’ think of her as she once was, – stretched afore a rushing blast,
-with pennon flapping high aloft,
and many men before the mast.
Percieve Roman God Apollo,
-with outstretched arm upon her bow;
victorious the crown held in his hand,
-tho’ he’s gone forever now.
Contact
Author: Todd Stephens
Todd Stevens
Email: info@travel-dive.com
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