The Great Eastern

The bones of the great and troubled ship

Lay under a greying sky,

I'd travelled on up to Liverpool

To see the monster die,

The wreckers were ripping the hull apart,

Were opening wounds of old,

Not only the bones of a rusty ship

But the bones of a tale untold!

 

My mind went back those thirty years

To the time when we built the ship,

When I was a poor, young riveter,

Just out on my maiden trip,

I'd found some digs in Millwall,

Right down in the Isle of Dogs,

Where the Thames sweeps on forever

In a miasma of mist and fogs.

 

I moved on in with Ted and Jane,

The Lamptreys they were called,

He was a man of forty years,

She was just twenty four,

But Ted was grim and serious,

While Jane was as light as froth,

While he was around, he held her down,

I thought her a fluttering moth.

 

She'd laugh and dance, and prance around

When Ted was not at home,

He liked his pint of Guinness Stout,

His beer, a head of foam,

He said that he'd worked a mighty thirst

For Isambard Brunel,

Whose dream of the great Leviathan

Rose up from the depths of hell.

 

I got me a job with Ted down there,

Riveting iron plates,

That ship was the first with a double hull

With an inner working space,

We belted the red-hot rivets in

And flattened the ends across,

We'd work in pairs, and the light was scarce

In the depths of that albatross.

 

Whenever old Ted would seek the pub

I'd go on home to Jane,

I thought that she must have feelings,

But the love that I felt was pain,

For I never dared to voice it, though

She must have looked in my eyes,

To see the way that my feelings lay

It was way beyond disguise.

 

Then Ted had begun to drink too much,

He said it was getting him down,

All he could hear were the hammers,

Hammers, belting his head around.

They chimed all day in his weary head

They rang all night in his sleep,

Drowned out the sound of our laughter

Like an echo relayed from the deep.

 

He belted Jane and he made her cry

While I had nothing to say,

I thought that I couldn't come in-between

A man and his wife that way,

She saw my eyes, and they said it all,

I'd sit, and begin to grieve,

I just couldn't bear the thought that he

Might say that I had to leave!

 

The Eastern Company went bust,

Went broke in '56,

And we were all laid off, until

The finances were fixed,

We spent some terrible weeks at home,

Living on toast and tea,

Wondering how to pay the rent

And arguing constantly.

 

They hired us back, began again,

But Ted and I were sour,

For Jane had begun to talk to me,

Ignored him by the hour,

We worked down deep in the hull this time

But spoke not a friendly word,

With just the clash of the hammers as

The heat of our tempers soared.

 

He worked inside, in the inner space

As I beat the rivets in,

He'd disappear in the iron walls

To the clash of the hammer's din,

My mind began to play me tricks,

My hammer felt like lead,

And then as he peered on out one day,

I hit him across the head.

 

He fell back into that inner space

With neither a scream, nor curse,

I knew if I pulled him out again

There'd be calls for a horse and hearse.

I fitted a whole new iron plate

And riveted it in place,

Wiped the blood from my hammer,

And the sweat from my trembling face.

 

That night, I told poor Jane I'd left him

Outside the Crown and Heart,

She didn't say much 'til midnight when

He hadn't returned to the hearth,

For days, she hurried around to seek

Her husband in every lane,

But only I knew the reason why

He'd never come home again!

 

For months, I hoped and I prayed that

She would fall in my loving arms,

And weep her sorrows away with me

While sharing some of her charms.

But Jane was bitter and fretful, she

Would glare at me in the dark,

And nothing would raise her spirits now,

The light had gone from her spark.

 

The ship had neared completion when

I offered my hand to her,

'You must have guessed that I love you, Jane?'

She turned on me with a curse.

'You think to replace my husband? Hah!

I wouldn't take you on a whim,

For Ted was really my one true love,

I'll keep myself true to him!'

 

The ship was launched, and I left that place,

I signed as one of the crew,

I'd killed a man for a dream, like sand

That had trickled my fingers through.

I dreamt that Ted was alive, not dead

And clanking his length of chain,

In the bowels of Brunel's Great Eastern

And calling me out, by name!

 

That ship was cursed from the day it launched,

When one of the boilers blew,

As it crossed the Atlantic swell it lost

A paddle-wheel or two,

The rudder snapped at the iron post,

A reef put her in tow,

I knew full well that the hounds of hell

Were trapped there, down below!

 

I'm old and tired, as I watch the iron

Now stripped from the Eastern's side,

When suddenly there's a shout goes up:

'There's a skeleton inside!'

Now back in my lonely boarding house

I write this in despair,

In death, he waits with a hammer of hate,

Ted clanks his chains down there!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[E.H. Monroe]

A clap stomper bellowed in a bar with drinks clanging and men yelling. The trial of a man, a bot, the abuser and the bruiser, and the ghost that brings the whole foul thing to an end. The feeling that when the elder is worm food, he's gonna have a Pirate's boon to pay else he be fucked like a dog for the rest of days.

THIS was a song in a story wrapped up in some heavy beer and timeless wisdom.

Right I mate, Right o

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Amazing! I think it was just last weekend on the History Channel that they were talking about The Great Eastern, how it was cursed from the beginning, seemingly haunted, and one the riveter(s) being trapped inside. How wonderful that you have written of it here. As always, you really know how to grasp history in the palm of your hand, wring it out, and create the most perfect narrative poem.

One small suggestion:

"The ship was launched, and I left that place,
I signed as one of the crew,
I'd killed a man for a dream, like sand
That had trickled my fingers through."

"I'd killed a man for a dream, like sand
I had trickled my fingers through."

Other than that, splendid!

Linda Marie

P.S.: Thank you for taking the time to send me your suggestions regarding my poem "He Wrote To Her A Letter That She Might Know." I have printed them out for review when I have time.

God bless!

[Phibby Venable]

this is an amazing piece of writing and the story kept me on the edge
of my seat. Wonderful work!

[DBURKE]

Wow this is a great poem. Telling a full story in a poem is a true art and you mastered it well according to this write. I really like the feel of this, time, scene, ect... I really love the creepy, haunted, chiller feeling you created as well. I look forward to reading your work in the future

[Ferg]

You suggested I might not be interested in this particular poem due to the fact that it was about a ship of which I knew little.......however, all of your poetic tales, regardless of the subject matter, always include a study of human psychology as well as details pertaining to particular places and events. It is the human stories you masterfully weave that keep me utterly intrigued throughout each tale.

[emmajoy]

A great tale wrapped in a great poem. You've kept the meter going virtually all the way through - which is craft at its best. The characters are really visible which endears them to the reader. Then you reached Ted's murder, the deathly expose and the tale becomes dark and criminal .. oh my!

'My mind began to play me tricks, My hammer felt like lead, And then as he peered on out one day, I hit him across the head. He fell back into that inner space With neither a scream, nor curse, I knew if I pulled him out again There'd be calls for a horse and hearse. I fitted a whole new iron plate And riveted it in place, Wiped the blood from my hammer, And the sweat from my trembling face.'

Now that's the moment where another tale takes over, and, the final stanza rings true.

[James Paulin]

What an impressive poem. Captivating and well spun with charm and humor. It has a classic appeal and represents a labor of love judging by the length and detail. Most enjoyable in every regard.

[Lena M. P.]

Another fantastic write David. It gave me the chills. I knew where you were leading but I couldn't help myself. Your writing is so additive!

[Ellen Hammond]

What a jolly good laugh you have given me tonight! You have such a wonderful gift for storytelling, my friend. Only you could make murder sound so funny. I do love your sense of humor and the irony you write so well. Loved this one too.