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History As Told In Folk Song Presented to The Blue Mountains Historical Society by Alan Foster on 6 February 2016 |
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Songs have always reflected current events. For example, there are songs in the English language going back to the Crusades,
and legends such as Robin Hood. Accuracy may not be their strong suit, but they do give us some insight into the thoughts of those experiencing the events.
In this informal presentation I will concentrate mainly on songs arising from Australian history, slightly embellished by New Zealand and Great Britain. Australian history has been shaped by a variety of events and eras. These include Transportation, Convict settlement, Seafaring, Bushranging, Gold mining and Pastoral issues. I have included songs from all these categories. Most of the songs I have chosen would be classed as "Folk Songs", a term that began in the late 19th century. That is, they are part of "Folklore" or the "Oral Tradition" and will often have originated at a time close to the events they depict. Australian colonial songs of this type are often referred to as "Bush Ballads". Examples of bush ballads may be found in many publications including Banjo Paterson's "The Old Bush Songs", first published in 1905. A section at the end of this presentation includes links to definitions of "Folk Song", "Oral Tradition" and "Bush Ballads". Useful web sites and printed references are included. The origins of all externally referenced images may be seen by clicking on the image. Some images shown in this presentation are our own or are public domain. Any others are shown by means of links to the web sites where they are located and are not resident on this web site. If you are the owner of one of these linked images and would like the link removed, please contact us: by email here or here. |
Wikipedia - Sydney Cove
Wikipedia - Sydney Cove |
| Transportation Songs |
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Transportation songs tend to be Anglo/Irish songs such as "Botany Bay" or "The Black Velvet Band". Few can be traced to a specific misdemeanour,
and most stop near the point of leaving the old country. They are usually generic in nature and often include a warning in the last verse, as do both the above-mentioned songs.
Of the three songs presented here only the first fits this pattern, although in this case the story continues into the new country. The following songs have poaching as a common theme, for no particular reason, although as Gary Shearston said on his web site: It is a popular belief amongst Australians that poachers made up a large proportion of the convicts transported to Australia. In fact, the records show that only a handful of men were transported for poaching. |
Wikipedia - Convicts in New Holland, 1793 |
| Van Diemen's Land or Young Henry The Poacher |
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Me and five more went out one night into Squire Dunhill's Park, For to see if we could get some game the night bein' proven dark; But to our great misfortune they trepanned us with speed, And sent us off to Warwick gaol which made our hearts to bleed. Young men all be aware lest you be drawn into a snare Young men all be aware lest you be drawn into a snare. It was at the March Assizes to the bar we did repair, Like Job we stood with patience to hear our sentence there; But being some old offenders, it made our case go hard, My sentence was for fourteen years, then I was sent on board. The ship that bore us from the land, the Speedwell was her name For full five months and upwards, boys, we ploughed the raging main; No land nor harbour could we see; believe it is no lie. All around us one black ocean, above us one blue sky. On the fifteenth day of August, 'twas then we made the land. At four o'clock we went on shore all chainèd hand in hand. To see our fellow sufferers filled me heart with woe; Some chained unto the harrow, and others to the plough. No shoes or stockings they had on, nor hat had they to wear, But leathern frock and linsey drawers; their feet and heads were bare. They chained them up two by two like horses in a team; The driver he stood over them, with his Malacca cane. Then I was marched to Sydney town, without no more delay, Where a gentleman he purchased me, his bookkeeper to be. I took this occupation, my master liked me well. My joys were without measure, the truth to you I'll tell. We had a female servant, Rosanna was her name, For fourteen years a convict was, from Wolverhampton came. We often told our tales of love when we were young at home, But now it's rattling of our chains in a foreign land to roam. Come all you wild and wicked youths, wherever you may be I pray you hear the tale I tell and listen unto me, The fate of us transported lads as you shall understand The hardships we did undergo upon Van Diemen's Land. Anon
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 Broadside published between 1818 and 1838. Trove - Young Henry The Poacher |
| Van Dieman's Land |
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Come all you gallant poachers, that ramble free from care, That walk out on a moonlit night, with your dog, your gun and snare; The hare and lofty pheasant you have at your command Not thinking of your last career going to Van Dieman's Land. Poor Thomas Brown, of Nottingham, Jack Williams, and Poor Joe, They were three daring poachers, as the country well does know But by a cruel keeper, boys, one night they were trepanned And fourteen years transported unto Van Dieman's Land. The first day that we landed upon that fatal shore, The settlers they came round us, some twenty score and more, They ranked us up like horses and sold us out of hand, And yoked us to the plough, brave boys, to plough Van Dieman's Land. Oh the wretched huts we live in are built from clods and clay, With rotten straw for bedding, we dare not to say nay, As for the wretched females see them we scarcely can There are twenty men for every woman all on Van Dieman's Land. Oft times when I do slumber, I have a pleasant dream, With my true love beside me close by a purling stream I am roaming through Old England with my true love by the hand I awake quite broken-hearted upon Van Dieman's Land. Anon
Note the spelling of Van Dieman's Land!This song provided the title for "The Fatal Shore" by Robert Hughes |
 Executed Today |
| The Oakham Poachers |
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This song can be traced to a specific incident. Cousins of mine are descended via their mother from the youngest of the three brothers in the song.
It was a really eerie feeling when, having known this song for a number of years, I heard the
story of their ancestor who was transported to Van Diemen's Land. As the story unfolded, each stage corresponded so closely to the song that it
seemed impossible for it to be a coincidence. Further research revealed that the song does indeed describe the misadventure of their ancestor. The detail in the song is pretty close to the truth - John (26), Robert (24) and George (23) Perkins were poaching one night and were assailed by a couple of keepers, one of whom was shot in the private parts (according to the transcript of the trial which I have seen). As a result of all this John was hung, Robert and George were confined in a prison hulk on the Thames where Robert died due to the appalling conditions. George was finally transported to Van Diemen's Land where he served out his time. He stayed in Tasmania until his death in early middle age when a coroner's report remarked on the fact that his body was covered in scars from the lashes he had received while he was a convict. |
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Concerning of three young men One night in January According laws contrary A-poaching went straightway. They were inclined to ramble Amongst the trees and brambles A-firing at the pheasants Which brought the keepers nigh. The keepers dared not enter Nor cared the woods to venture But outside near the centre In them old bush they stood. The poachers they were tired And to leave they were desired 'Til at last young Parkins* fired And spilled one keeper's blood. Fast homeward they were making Nine pheasants they were taking When another keeper faced them They fired at him also. He on the ground lay crying Just like some person dying With no assistance nigh him May God forgive their crime. Then they were taken with speed All for that inhuman deed It caused their hearts to bleed For their young tender years. There seen before was never Three brothers tried together Three brothers condemned for poaching Found guilty as they stood. Exiled in transportation Two brothers they were taken And the other one hung as a token May God forgive their crime. Anon
*The change from Perkins to Parkins is simply an example of how folk songs evolve over time.
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A Broadside printed between 1863 and 1885Bodleian Libraries - Broadside Ballads Online |
| Jim Jones At Botany Bay |
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Another generic song, the last couple of verses expressing the wishful thinking that many convicts must have felt. While travelling along the Dorset coastline in 2014 we came across a pub called The Botany Bay Inne. On an outside wall was a fragment of this song, attributed to Bob Dylan! While Dylan did record it, he certainly didn't write it. He's not old enough - as the next paragraph shows, it is known to have been in print by 1907 and must have existed in the oral tradition for some years before that. From Gary Shearston's web site: This song was presumably first sung in the late 1820s, when Jack Donahoe's gang was still at large. The words were preserved for us by Charles Macalister, who grew up in the southern highlands of New South Wales in the 1830s and 1840s. He printed the words in a book of reminiscences, Old Pioneering Days in the Sunny South, published in 1907, and said that it was a typical song of the convict days. Obviously Macalister knew the song for decades before he published it. It could easily have been lost as many other old songs undoubtedly were. |
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Oh, listen for a moment, lads, and hear me tell my tale, How o'er the sea from England's shore I was condemned to sail. The jury says: "He's guilty, sir," and says the judge, says he: "For life, Jim Jones, I'm sending you across the stormy sea. And take my tip before you ship to join the iron gang, Don't get too gay at Botany Bay or else you'll surely hang. Or else you'll surely hang," says he, "and after that, Jim Jones, High up upon the gallows tree the crows will pick your bones. You'll have no time for mischief then, remember what I say: They'll flog the poaching out of you down there at Botany Bay." The waves were high upon the sea, the winds blew up in gales I would rather drown in misery than go to New South Wales. The winds blew high upon the sea and pirates come along, But the soldiers on our convict ship were full five hundred strong. They opened fire and somehow drove that pirate ship away. I'd rather have joined the skull-and-bones than come to Botany Bay. For night and day the irons clang, and like poor galley-slaves We toil and strive and when we die, must fill dishonoured graves. But by and by I'll break me chains and to the bush I'll go, And join the brave bushrangers there, Jack Donahoe and Co. And some dark night when everything is silent in the town, I'll kill the tyrants one and all, I'll shoot the floggers down. I'll give the law a little shock, remember what I say, They'll yet regret they sent Jim Jones in chains to Botany Bay. Anon
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Photo: Alan Foster 
Photo: Alan Foster |
| The Life Of A Convict |
| Australian Courtship |
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Our colonial-born brethren are best known here by the name of Currency, in contradistinction to Sterling, or those born in the mother-country.
The name was originally given by a facetious paymaster of the 73rd Regiment quartered here - the pound currency being at that time inferior to the pound sterling.
Our Currency lads and lasses are a fine interesting race, and do honour to the country whence they originated.
The name is a sufficient passport to esteem with all the well-informed and right-feeling portion of our population; but it is most laughable to see the capers some of our drunken old Sterling madonnas
will occasionally cut over their Currency adversaries in a quarrel.
- Two Years in New South Wales, by Peter Cunningham, published in 1827. Peter Cunningham was appointed as surgeon superintendent on several convict ships to Australia. |
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The Currency Lads may fill up their glasses And drink to the health of the Currency Lasses, But the lass I adore, the one for me Is a lass in the Female Factory. Molly's her name - her name is Molly Although she was tried by the name of Polly Tried and sentenced to death at Newry The Judge was bribed and so were the jury. She was sentenced to death at Newry Town For stealing her mistresses watch and gown. Her little boy, Paddy, will tell you the tale His Father is turnkey at Newry Jail. The first time I saw this comely lass Was at Parramatta, goin' to Mass. Says I, "I'll marry you now in an hour" Says she, "I'll go and get Father Power". But I got into trouble that very same night. Being drunk on the street I got into a fight. A constable seized me - I gave him a box. I was put in the watch-house and then in the stocks It's very unaisy as I may remember To sit in the stocks in the month of December The wind is so hot with the sun right over Sure, it's no place at all for a lover. "'Tis worse than the tread-mill," says I, "Mr Dunn, To sit here all day in the hate of the sun", "Either that or a dollar", says he, "for your folly". "If I had a dollar I'd drink it with Molly." Now I'm out again, early and late. Crying outside of the Factory gate Sayin', "Mrs O'Reardon and Mrs Muldoon Won't you let my Molly out very soon." "Is it Molly McGuigan?" says she to me "Is it not?" says I for she knew it was she. "Is it her you mean that was put in the stocks For beating her mistress, old Mrs Cox!" "O! yes and it is, madam, pray let me in, I have brought her a half-pint of Cooper's best gin, She likes it as well as she likes her own mother, O! now let me in, madam, I am her brother." And the Currency Lads may fill up their glasses And drink to the health of the Currency Lasses. But the lass I adore, the one for me Is the lass in the Female Factory. Unknown, The Sydney Gazette, 14 July 1832
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 Trove - The Sydney Gazette, 14 July 1832 |
| Moreton Bay |
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Frank the Poet (real name Francis MacNamara) was transported to New South Wales from Ireland, and wrote songs from the convict's point of view. One of these is Moreton Bay,
sometimes sung in Australian primary schools. It is normally sung to the Irish tune Boolavogue. Captain Patrick Logan was the Commandant of the Moreton Bay penal settlement from 1826 to 1830. He was hated by the convicts for the severity of the floggings under his regime. He was also an important explorer and was killed by Aborigines in 1830 while surveying the Upper Brisbane river. |
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One Sunday morning as I went walking By Brisbane waters I chanced to stray I heard a prisoner his fate bewailing As on the sunny river bank he lay I am a native of Erin's island And banished now from my native shore They tore me from my aged parents And from the maiden whom I adore. I've been a prisoner at Port Macquarie At Norfolk Island and Emu Plains At Castle Hill and cursed Toongabbie At all those settlements I've walked in chains But of all these places of condemnation And penal stations of New South Wales To Moreton Bay I've found no equal Excessive tyranny each day prevails. For three long years I was beastly treated And heavy irons on my legs I wore My back with flogging is lacerated And often painted with my crimson gore And many a man from downright starvation Lies mouldering now underneath the clay And Captain Logan he had us mangled At the triangles of Moreton Bay. Like Egyptians and ancient Hebrews We were oppressed under Logan's yoke Till a native black lying there in ambush Gave to the tyrant his mortal stroke My fellow prisoners be exhilarated That all such monsters such a death may find And when from bondage we are liberated Our former sufferings shall fade from mind. Frank The Poet (Francis MacNamara)
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Watercolour painting of Moreton Bay Settlement, 1835Wikipedia - Early Streets of Brisbane 
Patrick Logan Wikipedia - Patrick Logan 
Flogging Wikipedia - Convict Flogging |
| Bushranging |
| The Jerilderie Letter |
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Moreton Bay leads us to the Jerilderie Letter, dictated by Ned Kelly to Joe Byrne. Not surprisingly, Ned seems to have known the song as Page 46 of the letter shows. Even without the possible connection between "Red" Kelly (Ned's father) and Francis MacNamara, who served time concurrently in Van Diemen's Land, Moreton Bay would have been well known in the Irish Australian community of the time, with its Irish tune Boolavogue being independently familiar. Shown right is the cell where Red Kelly was held before being sent to Australia. His cell is at the far left. It's a few miles from the Rock of Cashell in Co. Tipperary. |
Photo: Taia de Burca |
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P46 ...pulling their toe and finger nails and on the wheel. and every torture imaginable more was transported to Van Dieman Note the lack of punctuation, some corrections and mostly correct spelling. While we have the Jerilderie Letter in our sights, a couple of other pages are worth looking at... P4 ...to her he gave it to her husband consequently McCormack said he would summons me I told him neither me or Gould used their horse. he said I was a liar & he could welt me or any of my breed I was about 14 years of age but accepted the challenge and dismounting when Mrs McCormack struck my horse in the flank with a bullock's shin it jumped forward and my fist came in collision with McCormack's nose and caused him to loose his equillibrium and fall postrate I tied up my horse to finish the battle but McCormack got up and ran to the Police camp. Constable Hall asked me what the row was about I told him they... P43 ...of scattering pieces of me and my brother all over the bush and yet they know and acknowledge I have been wronged and my mother and four or five men lagged innocent And is my brothers and sisters And my mother not to be pitied also who has no alternative only to put up with the brutal and cowardly conduct of a parcel of big ugly fat-necked wombat headed big bellied magpie legged narrow hipped splaw-footed sons of Irish Bailiffs or english landlords which is better known as Officers of Justice or Victorian Police who some calls honest gentlemen but I would like to know what business an honest man would have in the Police As it is an old saying It takes a rogue to catch a rogue and a... Ned Kelly
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 Joe Byrne's handwriting was a whole lot better than mine... State Library of Victoria - Jerilderie Letter, Online version |
| The Kelly Gang |
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Part 1 - Euroa Oh Paddy dear and did you hear the news that's going round On the head of bold Ned Kelly they have placed two thousand pound. And on Steve Hart, Joe Byrne and Dan two thousand more they'll give But if the price was double, sure, the Kelly Gang would live. 'Twas in November, seventy-eight when the Kelly Gang came down, Just after shooting Kennedy, to famed Euroa town; To rob the bank of all its gold was their idea that day, Blood horses they were mounted on to make their getaway. Into the bank Ned Kelly walked and "Bail Up!" he did say Unlock the safe, hand out your cash, be quick and don't delay!" Without a murmur they obeyed the robbers' bold command Ten thousand pounds in gold and notes they gave into his hand. "Now hand out all your firearms!" the robber boldly said And all your ammunition or a bullet through your head. Now get your wife and children too, come man, now look alive; All jump into this buggy, and we'll take you for a drive. They drove them to a station about three miles away Where twenty men already had been bailed up all the day A hawker also shared their fate as everybody knows And came in handy to the gang supplying all their clothes. They next destroyed the telegraph by cutting down the wire And of their cast off clothing then they made a small bonfire Throughout the whole affair me boys they never fired a shot They way they worked was splendid and will never be forgot. |
State Library of Victoria |
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The original version of this song was written by Joe Byrne after the holdup at Euroa. The tune and first line are from the Irish rebel song "The Wearing Of The Green". The core members of the gang are named in the first verse. |
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Part 2 - Jerilderie Oh, Paddy dear, do shed a tear, I can't but sympathize, Those Kellys are the devils, for they've made another rise; This time across the billabong, on Morgan's ancient beat, They've robbed the banks of thousands, and in safety did retreat. They rode into Jerilderie at twelve o'clock that night, They caught the troopers in their beds, gave them an awful fright. They held them up at pistol point and I'm ashamed to tell, They took them in their nightshirts and they locked them in a cell. Next morning being Sunday morn of course they must be good, They dressed themselves in trooper's clothes, and Ned, he chopped some wood. And no-one there suspected them, as troopers they did pass, And Dan, the most religious, took the sergeant's wife to mass. On Monday morning early, still masters of the ground, They took their horses to the forge and had them shod all round; Then back they came and mounted, their plans all laid so well, They rode along the main street and stuck up the Royal Hotel. And as they rode away from town they called to one and all, "You'll not forget the Kelly Gang, Dan Morgan and Ben Hall." And where they've gone I do not know, and sure I wouldn't tell, So now, until I hear from them, I'll bid you all farewell. |
 Dixson Library, State Library of New South Wales |
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Extra verses added after the Jerilderie holdup. The two parts included here are about half the original length. My re-working of the first two lines of the last verse was inspired by a sentence in Margaret Carnegie's "Morgan - The Bold Bushranger": "When the Kelly Gang held up Jerilderie ... they rode through the streets shouting, 'Hoorah for Dan Morgan and Ben Hall'". |
| Ned Kelly's Farewell To Greta (The Kelly Song) |
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According to Peter FitzSimons ("Ned Kelly"), by the time of the Glenrowan siege this was Ned's favourite folk song. In its present form it represents a fictitious conversation between Ned
and his sister Kate following the killing of three policemen at Stringybark Creek. |
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Farewell my home in Greta, my sister Kate farewell. It grieves my heart to leave you, but here I cannot dwell. The brand of Cain is on my brow and the bloodhounds on my trail, And for the sake of golden gain, my freedom they assail. But should they cross my chequered path, by all I hold on earth, I'll give them cause to rue the day their mothers gave them birth. I'll shoot them down like kangaroos that roam the forest wide, And leave their bodies bleaching upon some woodland side. Oh, Edward, dearest brother, you know you should not go, And risk to be encountered by such a mighty foe. It's duly North lies Morgan's Tower, and pointing to the sky, South-east by east the mighty range of Gippsland mountains lie. And let no petty quarrels part the union of your gang, But stick to one another, Ned, and guard our brother Dan. See yonder ride four troopers, one kiss before we part, Now haste and join your comrades: Dan, Joe Byrne and Stevie Hart. Anon The Kate Kelly Story |
 The ruin of the Kelly home in Greta Photo: Alan Foster  Kate Kelly's grave in Forbes Cemetary, metres away from Ben Hall's grave Photo: Alan Foster |
| Avenel |
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When Ned was 11 and the family lived at Avenel, he saved 7 year old Richard Shelton from drowning in Hughes Creek. He was awarded the green sash shown below in recognition of his bravery,
and wore it around his waist at Glenrowan. Other images shown below are:-
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 Photo: Alan Foster |
 Photo: Alan Foster |
 Photo: Alan Foster |
 Photo: Alan Foster |
| Cailín Deas Crúite Na Mbó |
| While the Kelly gang held up Ann Jones' Glenrowan Inn, waiting for the train they planned to derail, a party (bush dance) started with townsfolk and the gang participating. The last song Ned heard before he was captured was "Cailín Deas Crúite Na Mbó" (Pretty Girl Milking Her Cow), sung in Gaelic by Ann Jones' son Jack, a thirteen year old with an "angelic" voice. Prior to that he had sung "The Kelly Song" (see above), then "The Wild Colonial Boy" to the tune of "The Wearing Of The Green". Sadly, young Jack was mortally wounded by a police bullet. |
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It was on a fine summer's morning, The birds sweetly tuned on each bough. And as I walked out for my pleasure, I saw a maid milking her cow. Her voice so enchanting, melodious, Left me quite unable to go. My heart, it was loaded with sorrow For cailín deas crúite na mbó. Then to her I made my advances, "Good morrow most beautiful maid. Your beauty my heart so entrances!" "Pray sir do not banter," she said. "I'm not such a rare precious jewel, That I should enamour you so. I am but a poor little milk girl," Says cailín deas crúite na mbó. "The Indies afford no such jewel, So bright and transparently clear. Ah! do not add flame to my fuel! Consent but to love me my dear" Oh, had I the Lamp of Aladdin, Or the wealth of the African shore, I'd rather be poor in a cottage With cailín deas crúite na mbó. Traditional Irish, English translation by Thomas Moore
The inn was set on fire by the police late in the seige.
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 After the fire. Wikipedia - Ned Kelly  The site of the Glenrowan Inn with "Morgan's Tower" in the background. Photo: Alan Foster |
| Sir Redmond Barry |
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There may not be any known songs about Sir Redmond Barry, but he presided over three important trials that feature in this presentation. |
Highlights (and lowlights) of Barry's life:-
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 Wikipedia - Redmond Barry |
| Seafaring |
| Sir John Franklin |
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Photo: Alan Foster |
| Lady Franklin's Lament |
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It was homeward bound one night on the deep Swinging in my hammock I fell asleep I dreamed a dream and I thought it true Concerning Franklin and his gallant crew. With one hundred seamen he sailed away To the frozen ocean in the month of May To seek that passage around the pole Where we poor sailors do sometimes go. Through cruel hardships they bravely strove Their ship on mountains of ice was drove Only the Eskimo in his skin canoe Was the only one who ever came through. In Baffin Bay where the whale fish blow The fate of Franklin no man may know The fate of Franklin no tongue can tell Lord Franklin along with his sailors do dwell. And now my burden it gives me pain For my long lost Franklin I'd cross the main Ten thousand pounds I would freely give To say on earth that my Franklin do live. Anon (Lady Franklin?)
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 c.f. "Ten thousand pounds would I freely give" - Lady Franklin did much to raise the money. Wikipedia - Franklin's lost expedition |
| The Catalpa |
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On Perth Regatta Day 1876 (Easter Monday, 17 April), the very well planned and financed escape of six Irish Fenian prisoners from Fremantle took place. A much simplified version of the story follows. The Fenian Brotherhood was an Irish Republican organisation formed in the USA in 1858. In January 1869 sixty-two Fenians arrived at the penal colony in Fremantle. Some had been convicted of treason, having been members of the Fenian Brotherhood while serving in the British Army. By 1876, after a number of pardons, six of these remained. In April 1875 the whaling ship the Catalpa sailed from New Bedford and arrived in Bunbury in March 1876. By Easter she was outside the three mile limit near Rockingham where a whaling boat was rowed to shore. On the Monday morning the six Fenians were working outside the prison walls, and with help including transport, made their way to Rockingham, about 20 miles south of Fremantle. From there they rowed through stormy weather towards the Catalpa. By now the authorities were aware of the escape and a small coastguard cutter set off in pursuit. The W.A. Governor commandeered the fastest ship in Fremantle, a passenger steamer the SS Georgette. Neither of these were able to stop the escapees from reaching the Catalpa. When the Georgette challenged the Catalpa her captain raised the U.S. flag and declared that boarding her in international waters would be an act of war. With a favourable breeze the Catalpa was then able to sail into the Indian Ocean and back to New York. The picture of the Catalpa below shows the coastguard cutter approaching on the at left, The Georgette on the right, and the escaped prisoners in the foreground struggling to make it to the Catalpa before they are overhauled. |
 Pinterest - The Fenian Six |
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A noble whale ship and commander Was called the Catalpa they say She came out to Western Australia And took six poor Fenians away. So come all you screw warders and jailers Remember Perth regatta day Take care of the rest of your Fenians Or the Yankees will steal them away. Seven long years had they served here And seven long more had to stay For defending their country old Ireland For that they were banished away. You kept them in Western Australia Till their hair had become to turn grey When a Yank from the States of America Came out here and stole them away. All the Perth boats were a-racing And making short tacks for the spot But the Yankee tacked into Fremantle And took the best prize of the lot. The Georgette armed with bold warriors Went out the bold Yanks to arrest But she hoisted her star spangled banner Saying you will not board me I guess. Now they've landed safe in America And there they'll be able to cry Hoist up the green flag and the shamrock Hurrah for old Ireland we'd die. Anon
Tune: Rosin the Beau
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 E. N. Russell (original lithograph). Digital enhancement by uploader User:Bjenks Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons  Wikipedia - The SS Georgette |
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According to The West Australian, Wed 5 February 1902, 'Within a week of the escape, the following doggerel was sung with great gusto in the streets and elsewhere, to the tune of "Botany Bay":-'
The Georgette was manned by brave warriors,
Who resolved the Catalpa to chase; But they hoisted their star-spangled banner, Saying, "You'd better not touch us, I guess." Now all of you warders and jailers, Remember that glorious day; Take care of the rest of your Fenians Or the Yankees will steal them away. Singing, Toral lal looral lal laddity etc. |
 Trove - The West Australian, 5 February 1902 |
| Grace Bussell |
The SS Georgette involved in the Catalpa incident was wrecked near Calgardup Bay early on the morning of 1 December in the same year while en route from Fremantle to Adelaide. There were fifty passengers, eight crew and a cargo of jarrah on board. One of the ship's boats reached the shore carrying some of the passengers, leaving many others floundering in the water in grave danger. The shipwreck and her passengers were seen by Sam Isaacs a.k.a., Yebble an indigenous stockman employed by the Bussell family. He raised the alarm but found only Ellen Bussell and her 16-year-old daughter Grace. On horseback Grace and Sam then rode back to the wreck, racing down a steep cliff, onto the beach and into the surf. They swam their horses out to the wreck and returned to the beach with as many people as possible holding on to them and their horses. Grace and Sam continued for four hours before all were landed. The survivors were taken to the Bussell home where Ellen Bussell attended to them as they recovered. Grace and Sam both received awards from the Royal Humane Society, and Grace became known as the Grace Darling of the West because of the similarity of her rescue to that of Grace Darling's rescue in the Farne Islands 38 years earlier.
The song that follows is my re-working of the Grace Darling song shown below. |
 Wreck of the SS. Georgette, Grace Bussell to the rescue Look and Learn - Grace Bussell  Wikipedia - Grace Bussell about the time of the rescue 
Grace Drake-Brockman (nee Bussell), heroine of the Georgette rescue, in middle age. Date unknown. Huffington Post |
| Grace Darling |
 The sign on the monument in St. Aidan's Churchyard on a wet day in 2008 Photo: Alan Foster |
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So, what's the Australian connection?
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The coble, Grace Darling Museum, Bamburgh Photo: Alan Foster  Hanging on the wall in the museum Photo: Alan Foster |
| Grace Darling - Australian version |
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'Twas on the Longstone Lighthouse, there dwelt an English maid, Pure as the air around her, of danger ne'er afraid. One morning just at daybreak a storm-tossed wreck she spied, Said Grace "Come help me father, and launch the boat" she cried. And she pulled away o'er the raging main, over the waters blue "Help, help!" she could hear the cries of the shipwrecked crew. Bold Grace had an English heart and the raging storm she braved She pulled away midst the dashing spray and the crew she saved. Her father cried "'Tis madness, to face that raging sea." Then up spoke brave Grace Darling "We'll launch the boat" said she. To the rocks the men were clinging, a crew of nine all told, Between them and the lighthouse the seas like mountains rolled. One murmured prayer, heaven guard us, and then they were afloat, Between them and destruction, the planks of that frail boat. They rode the angry billows and reached the rock at length. They saved the shipwrecked sailors, in heaven alone their strength. Go tell the wide world over what English hearts can do And sing of brave Grace Darling who nobly saved the crew. Anon
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 Monument in St. Aidan's Churchyard, 2008 Photo: Alan Foster  Longstone lighthouse, 2008 Photo: Alan Foster |
| Davey Lowston |
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The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser, Saturday 18 December 1813. On Wednesday arrived from a sealing voyage, after a sixteen months absence, the colonial schooner Governor Bligh, Mr. Grono master, with 14,000 seal skins, and about 3 tons of elephant oil. This vessel brings from the west coast of New Zealand a gang of men consisting of ten persons, left by the brig Active, Capt. Bader, so long ago as the 16th of February, 1809, in charge of Mr. David Lowrieston. The Active went from hence the 11th of December, 1808, and having landed her people on an island about a mile and a half from the main of New Zealand, sailed again for Port Jackson, but doubtless perished by the way, and has never since been heard of. The people who were left as above described were reduced to the necessity of subsisting for nearly four years upon the seal, when in season, and at other times upon a species of the fern, part of which they roasted or boiled, and other parts were obliged to eat undressed, owing to a nausea it imbibed from any culinary process. They were left upon the small island with a very scanty allowance of provisions, and the vessel was to come to Port Jackson for a further supply. They had a whale boat, and their only edged implements consisted of an axe, an adze, and a cooper's drawing knife. In a short time they procured 11,000 skins, part of which Mr. Grono has brought up. In hopes of finding upon the main some succour which the small island did not afford, they went thither, but were nearly lost by the way, as some of the lower streaks of the boat were near falling out, owing, as was imagined, to the nails being of cast iron. On their safe arrival, however, they found an old boat on a beach, which it subsequently appeared had been left there by Mr. Grono on a former voyage. With the aid of this additional boat, when both repaired, they projected an excursion towards some of the more frequented sealing places, and were on the point of setting out when a tremendous hurricane in one night destroyed the boats, and put an end to their hope of relief. The only nutritive the place afforded was a species of the fern root, resembling a yam when cut, and possessing some of the properties of the cassada. This they could only procure at a distance of six or seven miles from their hut, which was near the sea-side, and had it been plentiful would have been a desirable substitute for better diet; but it was unfortunately so sparingly scattered among other shrubs as to be found with difficulty; and they solemnly affirm that they have for a week at a time had neither this nor any other food whatever. With the assistance of a canoe made up of seal skins a party visited their former island, and found their stacks of skins much injured by the weather, but did all they could for their preservation. This was their seal depot and out of the usual season they now and then found a solitary straggler, in some instances when they were so reduced by famine as to be scarcely capable of securing those that Providence threw in their way. With their axe, adze, and drawing knife they afterwards built a small boat, but with intense labour, as without saws they could only cut one board out of each tree; the hoops upon their provision casks were beaten into nails; and by the same patient and laborious process they at length projected the building of a small vessel, and had provided 80 half inch boards for the purpose, all cut in the way above described. The fortunate accident of Mr. Grono's touching there has however preserved them from further suffering and peril, of which they have had full store, on that exposed and inhospitable shore. The dates of 1808 and 1809 mentioned early in this article should be 1809 and 1810 according to "John Grono 1767 - 1847" by Robert Taylor. The Mr (John) Grono mentioned above was the Great Great Great Great Grandfather of a colleague of mine, Ron Grono, who supplied the additional information that John Grono mapped much of New Zealand's Fiordland coast, naming Milford Haven (now Milford Sound) after his home port in Wales. His daughter Matilda married William, son of Solomon Wiseman (Wiseman's Ferry). Contrary to the claims of some New Zealanders this is almost certainly an Australian song, dating back to before any official European settlement of New Zealand. It originated in the Rocks area soon after the rescue and travelled with whaling ships to the United States. Years later it made its way to New Zealand. |
Trove - A clipping from The Sydney Gazette Saturday 18 December 1813 Jackson Bay was named Open Bay by Captain Cook |
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My name is Davey Lowston, I did seal, I did seal My name is Davey Lowston, I did seal Though my men and I were lost, though our very lives it cost We did seal, we did seal, we did seal. We were set down in Open Bay, were set down, were set down We were set down in Open Bay, were set down We were left we gallant men never more to sail again Never more, never more, never more. Our captain John Bedar he set sail, he set sail Oh yes for old Port Jackson he set sail I'll return men without fail but she foundered in a gale And went down, and went down, and went down. We killed ten thousand seals for the fur, for the fur We killed ten thousand seals for the fur Brackish water, putrid seals, we did all of us fall ill For to die, for to die, for to die. Now come all you lads who venture far from home, far from home Come all you lads who venture far from home Though the schooner Governor Bligh took on those who didn't die Never seal, never seal, never seal. So remember those who sail on the sea, on the sea Remember those who sail on the sea Where the icebergs tower high that's a pitiful place to die Never seal, never seal, never seal. Anon
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 Part of a tourist sign in Haast While I was reading this sign a local started to tell me the story. He was surprised to find that I was already familiar with it. He then provided even more detail, agreeing mostly with what I already understood. Photo: Alan Foster  Open Bay Islands 2012 Photo: Alan Foster |
| Mining Songs |
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Australia's gold rush inspired many songs. Image information: Wikipedia - New South Wales gold rush, Wikipedia - Victorian Gold Rush, Wikipedia - Bernhardt Holtermann, Wikipedia - New South Wales gold rush. |
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 Bernhardt Holtermann (2nd from left) with specimen gold from the Star of Hope Mine |
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Not many successful ones though... |
| Denis O'Riley |
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Disillusioned Digger Denis O'Riley's career change to swaggie... When first I left old Ireland's shore the yarns that I was told Of how the folks in Australia could pick up lumps of gold How gold dust lay in all the streets and miner's rights were free Hurrah I told my loving friends that's just the place for me. With my swag all on my shoulder, black billy in my hand I'll travel the bushes of Australia like a true born Irishman. And then we came to Melbourne town and we all prepared to slip And bar the captain and the mate all the crew abandoned ship And all the girls of Melbourne town they threw up their arms with joy Saying one unto the other, "Here comes the Irish boy." And then we went into Geelong town and north west to Ballarat Where some of us grew mighty thin and some grew sleek and fat Some tried their luck at Bendigo and some at Fiery Creek Well I made my fortune in a day and I blued it in a week. Now it's many a year I have travelled round to each new field about And made and spent full many a pound till the alluvial petered out And now for any job of work I was prepared to try But now I've found this tucker track I'll stay here till I die. Anon
Any song that mentions Geelong is bound to be a good one! |
 Miner's Right Collection Ballarat Gold Museum |
| Packing My Things |
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When I came and took up my claim Bill Muggins was my name For though I'm a young man and able I'm stuck here rockin' the cradle And that's a Bill Muggins game. But I'm a wake-up, I will break up I'm never more going to roam I've panned in this dugout with never a nugget I'm packing my things to go home. I've hunted Otago for gold In the wind and the rain and the cold And I've holed up all winter under the snow All along the winding Molyneaux And that's when you need to have holed. In those shanties where you spin Away all your hard earned tin Nancy's smiles are so beguiling That's why Nancy's always smiling Landlord says he's not taking you in. Anon (New Zealand)
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 A miner "rockin' the cradle" Wikipedia - Rocker Box |
| Where's Your License? |
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The morning was fine, The sun bright did shine The diggers were working away When th' inspector of traps Said now my fine chaps We'll go license hunting today Some went this way, some that Some to Bendigo Flat And a lot to the White Hills did tramp Whilst others did bear Up towards Golden Square And the rest of them kept round the camp. Then each turned his eye To the diggings close by Expecting on some down to drop But not one could they nail For they'd give 'em leg bail Diggers aren't often caught on the hop The little word Joe That most of you know Is a signal the traps are quite near Made them all cut their sticks And they hooked it like bricks I believe you, my boys, have no fear. Now a tall, ugly trap He espied a young chap Up the gully a-cutting like fun So he quickly gave chase, But it was a hard race, For mind you, the digger could run Down the hole he did pop While the trooper up top Says - "just come up", shaking his staff "Young man of the crown. If yer wants me, come down, For I'm not to be caught with such chaff. Of course you'd have thought The sly fox he'd have caught By lugging him out of the hole; But this trooper no fear Quite scorned the idea, Of burrowing the earth like a mole; But wiser by half He put by his staff And as onward he went sung he- "When a cove's down a drive, Whether dead or alive, He may stay till doomsday for me." Charles Thatcher, published by 1855 and seemingly written before the Eureka Rebellion in 1854. |
Some of these lines are rather obscure but the gist of the song is pretty clear. The "traps" are expecting to catch a lot of "unlicensed" diggers, sometimes by dropping down on them in their holes. The traps had little luck in this song, in fact it seems that the "tall, ugly trap" gave up pretty easily, and just left the "cove" down his "drive"! The cry of "Joe" was a warning to the diggers to "hook it" down their holes or give the trap "leg bail" or a foot race. Joe was the diggers' nickname for Charles Joseph La Trobe and his traps who at best mismanaged the gold licence issue.  Gold Museum Ballarat - Miner's Rights Collection |
| Eureka |
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1854 was an interesting year in Victoria.
The Eureka story is well known. The following song provides a brief summary. The Gold License of the previous song was one of a number of points of disagreement between the miners and the Victorian government leading up to the Eureka Rebellion. "We swear by the southern cross to stand truly by each other, and fight to defend our rights and liberties." - Peter Lalor The miners burned their licenses in eighteen fifty-four Beneath the flag at Bakery Hill a solemn oath they swore "For liberty!" cried Lalor, "beneath the Southern Cross We'll fight against the licence hunt no matter what the cost." "We swear to stand together for our rights and liberties We swear that we will not accept injustices like these." Then beneath their lofty standard, the diggers' brave brigade Manned their stations at Eureka, the roughly built stockade. That Sunday morning early the troops charged up the hill They gave the men no quarter as they fought to maim and kill And Lalor he was wounded and smuggled soon away And twenty-two brave mining lads were slain upon that day. And thirteen captured miners were charged with treason high The jury said "Not guilty!" to a loud exultant cry They may have lost the battle, but the war had just begun 'Twas the miners' victory in the end - for their demands were won. The license was abolished and the miners got the vote Lalor took his place in Parliament; a long career of note Australia and democracy took an upward turn that day And freedom, rights and liberty must never slip away. Alan Foster
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 Wanted! Wikipedia - Eureka Rebellion  Swearing Allegiance to the Southern Cross, watercolour by Charles Doudiet, Art Gallery of Ballarat Wikipedia - Eureka Rebellion 
The Eureka Flag at the Art Gallery of BallaratSteakknife at English Wikipedia |
| Pastoral Australia |
| What do these blokes have in common - apart from the same barber? |
Wikipedia - Premier of New South Wales |
Wikipedia - Premier of New South Wales |
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The Robertson Land Acts (Crown Land Acts 1861) and similar legislation in Victoria and South Australia were intended to reform land holdings at a time when the squatters
domination of land tenure was seen as a problem. The reforms allowed free selection of crown land under strict conditions.
Although well intentioned, the reforms created problems for both the squatters and free selectors.
Both squatters and free selectors found ways to abuse the law, and the scene was set for years of struggles between the two camps.
The changing face of rural society had a marked effect on the lives of many who turned to bushranging,
e.g. Ned Kelly (above) and Dan Morgan (below). The squatter saw his pastures wide Decrease, as one by one The farmers moving to the west Selected on his run; Selectors took the water up And all the black soil round; The best grass-land the squatter had Was spoilt by Ross's Ground. The Fire at Ross's Farm by Henry Lawson |
The man on the left is Sir John Robertson, on the right Sir Henry Parkes. Premiers of NSW, 1860 to 1891 Robertson Cowper ... Martin Robertson Cowper ... Martin Parkes Robertson Parkes Robertson Farnell Parkes Stuart ... Dibbs Robertson Jennings Parkes Dibbs Parkes |
| Eumerella Shore |
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The following song is about a free selector who felt the need of a career change to cattle duffing. Pretty much how the Kellys must have felt... Where I've lounged through many is the day On my little free selection I have acres by the score Where I unyoke the bullocks from the dray. To my cattle I do say, you may feed, feed away But you'll never be impounded any more For you're running, running, running on the duffer's piece of land Free selected on the Eumerella Shore. When the moon has climbed the mountains and the stars are shining bright We will saddle up our horses and away We will steal the squatter's cattle by the darkness of the night And we'll brand them at the dawning of the day. And now my pretty calf at the squatter you may laugh But you'll never see your owner any more For you're running, running, running on the duffer's piece of land Free selected on the Eumerella Shore. If we find a mob of horses when the paddock rails are down Although before they've never known to stray We will round them up and drive them to some distant inland town And we'll sell them into slavery far away. To Jack Robertson we say, you've been leading us astray And we never can believe you any more* For it's easier duffing cattle on that little piece of land Free selected on the Eumerella Shore. Anon
* Nothing changes, does it.
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Henry Lawson Trove - Australian Town and Country Journal, Wednesday 18 January 1905 |
| The Broken-Down Squatter |
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Squatters didn't always have it their own way... All your mates in the paddock are dead Let us bid our farewells to Glen Eva's sweet dells And the hills where your lordship was bred Together we'll roam from our drought-stricken home It's sad that such things have to be And it's hard on a horse when he's nought for a boss But a broken-down squatter like me. For the banks are all broken they say And the merchants are all up a tree When the big-wigs are brought to the Bankruptcy Court What chance for a squatter like me? No more shall we muster the river for fats Or spiel on the Fifteen Mile Plain Or rip through the scrub by the light of the moon Or see the old stockyard again Leave the slip-panels down, it won't matter much now There are none but the crows left to see Perching gaunt on yon pine, as though longing to dine On a broken-down squatter like me. When the country was cursed with the drought at its worst* And the cattle were dying in scores Though down on my luck, I kept up my pluck Thinking justice might temper the laws But the farce has been played, and the Government aid Ain't extended to squatters, old son When my money was spent, they doubled the rent And resumed the best half of the run. It was done without reason, for (leaving the season) No squatter could stand such a rub For it's useless to squat when the rents are so hot That you can't save the price of your grub And there's not much to choose 'twixt the banks and the screws Once a fellow gets put up a tree No odds what I feel, there's no Court of Appeal For a broken-down squatter like me. Anon
* Referring to the severe drought of the eighteen eighties.
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Shearing Songs There are also many shearing songs. This song by Henry Clay Work (who also wrote My Grandfather's Clock) provides the original tune for Click Go The Shears. 
JScholarship - Ring the Bell, Watchman!A shearing song follows:- |
| The Ryebuck Shearer |
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I come from the south and my name is Field And when my shears are properly steeled A hundred or more I have very often peeled And of course I'm a ryebuck shearer. If I don't shear a tally before I go My shears and stone in the river I'll throw I'll never open Sawbees to take another blow Till I prove I'm a ryebuck shearer. There's a bloke on the board and I heard him say That I couldn't shear a hundred sheep a day But some fine day I'll show him the way And prove I'm a ryebuck shearer. Oh, I'll make a splash, but I won't say when I'll hop off me tail and jump into the pen While the ringer's shearing five, I'll shear ten And prove I'm a ryebuck shearer. There's a bloke on the board and he's got a yellow skin A very long nose and he shaves on the chin And a voice like a billy-goat dancing on a tin But at least he's a ryebuck shearer. Anon
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 Shears very similar to "Sawbees" which were shears made by Robert Sorby of Sheffield England. The company is still going strong. Photo: Alan Foster |
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Ryebuck Ryebuck was in fairly common use from the late 1800s to at least 1920. It means 'good', both as an adjective and an exclamation. Some examples are shown from newspaper clippings of the time.  Trove - The Maitland Weekly Mercury, 22 April 1905  Trove - Toodyay Herald, 25 February 1922 C. J. Dennis used the word in "The Sentimental Bloke and other verse", where it is defined as 'correct', 'genuine', 'an interjection signifying assent'. |
Trove - Sunday Times, 29 December 1895 |
| Bushranging |
| Jack Donahoe |
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Most of the following is derived from "The Wild Colonial Boy - The Life and Times of Jack Donohoe 1808(?) - 1830" by John Meredith, 1960.
A copy is held in the library of The Blue Mountains Historical Society and is part of the Malcolm Ferguson Collection. John Donahoe (Donohoe/Donohue) was an Irish convict who arrived at Sydney Cove on the ship Ann & Amelia in 1825. Aged about twenty, he soon escaped and usually in company with a couple of others he began to "collect a toll" (his own words) from travellers on the road. Notable victims were the Rev. Samuel Marsden, Charles Sturt and William Cox. When holding up Charles Sturt, on discovering Sturt's Identity, he said to his mates, "Stand back, boys. It's Captain Sturt, and we don't rob him." William Cox was similarly lucky: after he had taken the victim's valuables, Donahoe asked his name. "William Cox! Why did you not tell me that before, I would not rob such a good master." Although he spent some time west of the mountains, most of his activity was in an area from Parramatta to the Nepean and Windsor to Cobbity. Much of this activity was in the company of John Walmsley and William Webber. They were said to have used a range of hideouts from the Burragorang Valley to a cave on the Parramatta River, now on the edge of Parramatta Lake. In 1830, at the estate of Mr. Wentworth at Bringelly, Donahoe, Walmsley and Webber were accosted by a party of police. In the exchange of shots that followed, Donahoe was fatally wounded; Walmsley and Webber escaped, to be captured a few months later. "Bold Jack Donahoe" songs probably started circulating before Donahoe's death - he may even have composed one himself. Frank the Poet (see Moreton Bay) also seems to have composed one. Banjo Paterson's "Old Bush Songs" includes a version. In time, while continuing to have lives of their own, they evolved into "The Wild Colonial Boy", the early tune usually being "The Wearing Of The Green" (the tune Ned Kelly heard at Glenrowan). For some years after Donahoe's exploits, singing Donahoe ballads in any public house was forbidden, the penalty being loss of license. At this stage the 1898 rebellion would not have been forgotten by many Irish convicts. The song, usually sung to an Irish rebel tune, was considered an evil influence. In "The Wild Colonial Boy" the bushranger's name is often Jack Doolan who was born in Castlemaine. In 1960 John Meredith wrote, "Doolan, as a person never existed". However The Australian Dictionary of Biography has biographies of Jack Donahoe and Jack Doolan. Doolan was born in Castlemaine Victoria in 1856 and became a minor bushranger. Jack Donahoe was born in Dublin. Neither could have commenced their wild career in 1861. In the manner of folk song evolution, details from both have ended up in the song. The mention of the Beechworth mail-coach in the song might suggest a Victorian setting, but it's really just folk song evolution. Even Castlemaine makes more sense if taken to be the Irish one. |
 Broadside probably printed in Dublin between 1860 and 1876 by the printer P. Brereton. National Library of Scotland |
| The Wild Colonial Boy |
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There was a wild Colonial Boy, Jack Doolan was his name, Of poor but honest parents, He was born in Castlemaine. He was his father's only son, His mother's pride and joy, And dearly did his parents love The wild Colonial Boy. When scarcely sixteen years of age, He left his father's home, And through Australia's sunny shores A bushranger did roam. He'd rob those wealthy squatters, Their stock he would destroy, A terror to Australia was The wild Colonial Boy. In sixty-one this daring youth Commenced his wild career, With a heart that knew no danger, No stranger did he fear. He bailed up the Beechworth mail-coach, And robbed Judge MacEvoy, Who trembling cold gave up his gold to The wild Colonial Boy. One day as he was riding The mountain side along A-list'ning to that kookaburra's Happy laughing song Three mounted troopers came in sight, Kelly, Davis and Fitzroy, A-riding up to capture him, The wild Colonial Boy. "Surrender now, Jack Doolan, You see we're three to one. Surrender in the queen's high name, Or your living days are done." Jack drew a pistol from his belt, And waved it like a toy, "I'll fight, but not surrender," Cried the wild Colonial Boy. He fired at Trooper Kelly, And brought him to the ground, And in return from Davis, He received a mortal wound. All shattered through the jaws he lay, Still firing at Fitzroy, And that's the way they captured him - The wild Colonial Boy. Anon
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 Charles Sturt, explorer Wikipedia - Charles Sturt  William Cox Across the Blue Mountains Building The Mountain Road  Bold Jack Donahoe drawn after death by the famous Australian surveyor and explorer, Sir Thomas Mitchell Gary Shearston Bolters, Bushrangers & Duffers |
| The Streets Of Forbes |
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Early in the morning of 5 May 1865 Ben Hall was ambushed and shot after being betrayed by an informer for the £1000 reward.
When my mother was growing up in Grenfell in the '20s and '30s, the consensus in the town was that Ben Hall was badly treated as the song suggests.
It's highly unlikely that Billy Dargin the black-tracker shot him.
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Come all you Lachlan men, and a sorrowful tale I'll tell Concerning of a decent man who through misfortune fell His name it was Ben Hall, a man of high renown Who was hunted from his station, and like a dog shot down. Three years he roamed the roads, and he showed the traps some fun A thousand pounds was on his head, with Gilbert and John Dunn Ben parted from his comrades, the outlaws did agree To give away bushranging and to cross the briny sea. Ben went to Goobang Creek, and that was his downfall For riddled like a sieve was valiant Ben Hall 'Twas early in the morning upon the fifth of May When seven police surrounded him as fast asleep he lay. Bill Dargin he was chosen to shoot the outlaw dead The troopers then fired madly, and filled him full of lead They rolled him in a blanket and strapped him to his prad And led him through the streets of Forbes to show the prize they had. |
 Ben Hall Bushranger |
 Photo: Alan Foster Ben Hall's Cave Weddin Mountains |
 Photo: Alan Foster Ben Hall's Grave Forbes Cemetary |
 Photo: Alan Foster Ben Hall Shooting Site Billabong Creek |
| April 1911 article by John McGuire (Ben's brother-inlaw), containing the original version |
|
The Truth, Sunday, April, 30, 1911, P11
Ben Hall - How he died - John McGuire
I will now give my readers a true account of Ben Hall and the shooting of him, and a few verses which I now give upon the episode of poor Ben:-
Come all you highwaymen, a sorrowful tale I'll tell,
Concerning of a hero, who through misfortune fell; His name it was Ben Hall, a chap of great renown. He was hunted from his station, like a native dog shot down. On the fifth of May, when parting from His comrades all along the highway, It was at the Wedding Mountains those three outlaws did agree To give up bushranging, and cross the briny sea. Then going to the billabong, which was his cruel downfall, And riddled like a sieve was that hero, Ben Hall; It was early in the morning, before the break of day, The police they surrounded him as fast asleep he lay. The tracker, he was chosen to fire the fatal shot, The rest then they rounded him to secure the prize they got; They threw him on his horse, and strapped him like a swag. And led him through the streets of Forbes to show the prize they had.
John McGuire describes viewing the body We counted thirty-two gunshot wounds. This was the most cowardly and disgraceful business that could possibly be done by men who figured in society, as civilised men, especially to be called Englishmen. He must have been shot by five vollies after he was dead, for he offered no resistance, he being asleep t the time, for he was never a very desperate man. One policeman, Jack Bowen, refused to fire, as he said, at a dead man. The diggers afterwards stuck to him for his humane treatment, and he was discharged from the force. The troopers and policemen must have been panic stricken with fear. |
 Trove - Truth, April 1911, Page 11 |
| Constable Bowen's reply in May |
|
The Truth, Sunday, May, 7, 1911
How Ben Hall Died, Constable Bowen's Description To the Editor Sir. - Tell Jack McGuire that he does not know how Ben Hall was shot if he says he was shot in his sleep. He was not. He got up just as the day broke, and he went to catch his horse He was called upon to stand, and he would not. Constable Hipkiss fired his rifle. The ball went through him, and he clung to a sapling, and said he was done, and fell to the ground. Then the others began to fire at him, upon which I cried shame on them. But a ball from me never entered his body, but went over his head The tracker, Billy Dargan, had nothing to do with it. Jack is a liar if he says he had. He does not say much about "Coo Bong Mick." He owed Ben some money, and thought he came for it. He took tea out to him. and then saddled his horse and rode into Forbes and informed on him, and we went out and surrounded him. But if I had got a chance at Coo Bong, I would have put shot into him. His wife begged and prayed of him not to put him (Ben Hall) away. The child, when it was born, had every mark on it as there was on Ben Hall. Both my wife and I saw it at the Club Hotel, Forbes, kept by Duggan Brown. No more this time. I will see what Jack says next Sunday. Please tell Jack I was not discharged from the force, but resigned. JOHN BOWEN. P.O., Turramurra. 30.4.1911 |
| Dan Morgan |
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A month before Ben Hall was shot, Dan Morgan was also shot. Of the many accounts of the Dan Morgan story no two are in full agreement. Not wanting to create yet another version, I've taken some points from Margaret Carnegie's 1974 "Morgan the Bold Bushranger" which appears to be very well researched. More recent research may account for many of the discrepancies found in other versions. |
A short history of Dan Morgan:-
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 Wikipedia - Daniel Morgan, The Bushranger |
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Morgan had many aliases and doesn't seem to have ever used his real name. Some modern articles refer to him as "Mad" Dan Morgan,
but there is little evidence that he was known as "Mad Dan" in his lifetime. The 1976 movie "Mad Dog Morgan" was the first use
of "Mad Dog". Some aliases he used were Dan the Horsebreaker, John Smith, Bill The Native, Sydney Bill, Down-the-River-Jack and Bill-the-Native.
Peechelba Station, about half-way between Wangaratta and the Murray was jointly owned by Scotsmen Ewan Macpherson and George Rutherford who had homesteads about 450 yards apart. They appear to have been brothers-in-law as Mrs Macpherson's maiden name was Margaret Rutherford. The baby Christina Macpherson, an unwitting participant in this story, later played another important role in Australia's history. The following song, with very little poetic licence, tells the story of Morgan's demise. |
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Dan Morgan was a bushranger, a cruel and desperate man The troopers sought him up and down but never found Mad Dan. He crossed the river heading south, a challenge all ablaze: Victoria's traps had boasted he'd be caught within two days. And at Peechelba Station the Macphersons and their guests All gathered round the piano heard a knock like a man possessed. Dan Morgan's standing at the door revolver in each hand He marched into their parlour unwelcome and unplanned. He asked Macpherson's daughter to play another tune He bade the guests be seated as he strode around the room. He drank a glass of whiskey and he took Macpherson's chair When from the nursery was heard a child in need of care. The baby crying from the nursery made Morgan wild Young Alice Keenan offered to go and calm the child. She quickly calmed Christina down, then through the window fled And sprinted with all haste and speed to Rutherford's homestead. All through the night armed stockmen and troopers gathered round And waited for the morning light to bring Dan Morgan down. At nine o'clock that morning Morgan left the homestead's door And Quinlan with his rifle fired and shot the bold outlaw. Oh many were the souvenirs when the bushranger was dead They flayed the beard from off his face and the hair from off his head. So ne'er become a bushranger, be warned by Morgan's death Who met his end without a friend to witness his last breath. Dan Morgan was a bushranger who died a dreadful death And met his end without a friend to witness his last breath. Alan Foster
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 Trove - The World's News, 24 May 1947 |
|
Post mortem photos of Morgan |
| Two professional photogaphers took a total of three photos, and then proceeded to use them for profit. The centre photo shows Quinlan holding the rifle he used to shoot Morgan. |
Sutori - MDaniel (Dan) Morgan |
Wikipedia - Daniel Morgan (bushranger) |
wikidata - Dan Morgan |
| Thou Bonnie Wood O' Craigielea |
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Twenty-nine years after Morgan's death, Christina Rutherford Macpherson (the baby in the above song) was at the Warrnambool steeplechase meeting (April 1894) and heard a band
playing the Craigielee march (note spelling). This was an arrangement by Thomas Bulch (Pseudonym Godfrey Parker) of "Thou Bonnie Wood O' Craigielea", words: Robert Tannahill, tune: James Barr. In January 1895, Christina visited her brothers at Dagworth Station near Winton Queensland. A friend of hers, Sarah Riley, and Sarah's then fiancée A. B. Paterson also visited Dagworth at this time. Christina kept playing Craigielee on an autoharp (a type of zither). Banjo said he thought he could write some lines to the tune. The "Waltzing Matilda" manuscript below is the result. Many years later (probably early 1930s) Christina wrote a letter to Dr. Thomas Wood:- Dear Sir, In reading your impressions about music in Australia I was interested to note that you had mentioned the song "Waltzing Matilda" and thought it might interest you to hear how "Banjo" Paterson came to write it. He was on a visit to Winton, North Queensland, and I was staying with my brothers about 80 miles from Winton. We went into Winton for a week or so & one day I played (from ear) a tune which I had heard played by a band at the Races in Warrnambool, a country town in the Western District of Victoria. Mr Paterson asked what it was. I could not tell him, & he then said he thought he could write some lines to it. He then and there wrote the first verse. We tried it and thought it went well, so he then wrote the other verses. I might add that in a short time everyone in the district was singing it. There are always numbers of men travelling about the country, some riding, and some on foot and they are usually given rations at the various stations that they come to. But in Queensland the distances are so great that they help themselves without asking. On this occasion my brother and Mr Paterson were out riding & they came to a waterhole (or billabong) and found the skin of a newly killed sheep - all that was left by a swagman and he made use of this incident. After Mr Paterson returned to Sydney he wrote and asked me to send him the tune. I am no musician but did my best: & later on he told me he had sent it on to a musical friend of his who thought it would make a good bush song. It was included in the student's song book and was frequently sung at the community singing. I hope I have not bored you about this. Yours sincerely (Miss) C. R. Macpherson P.S. I presume that you know that "Waltzing Matilda" means "Carrying a Swag" - & that "Jumbuck" is the native's name for a sheep. Source: National Library Of Australia - Christina Macpherson's undated letter to Dr Thomas Wood explaining the origins of 'Waltzing Matilda', NLA MS 9065, Item 1. Click the icon to the left of the item. |
 National Library Of Australia - Who'll Come A Waltzing Matilda With Me  The copy shown here is a scan of a page of "Two Hundred And Twenty Popular Scottish Songs", which belonged to my great grandfather who arrived from Scotland in 1883. Scan: Alan Foster |
| Waltzing Matilda |
 Wikipedia - Waltzing Matilda |
 Find A Grave - Christina Rutherford Macpherson  Autoharp Photo: Alan Foster  Best Books For Kids - Banjo Paterson |
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Useful Web Sites Definition of ballad, including a section on Bush Ballads - Wikipedia Definition of Folk Song - Infoplease Definition of Oral Tradition The Old Bush Songs [edited by Banjo Paterson, 1905] - The Institute of Australian Culture Hulks - State Library of NSW Broadside Ballads Online - search for "oakham poachers" Axon Ballad Collection - via "Titles", scroll to "Oakham Poachers", click the "65" in the Sheet No. column Gary Shearston: Bolters, Bushrangers & Duffers Currency Lads And Lasses Moreton Bay Penal Settlement - Wikipedia Frank the Poet The Jerilderie Letter - State Library of Victoria Ned Kelly - Wikipedia The Kelly Gangs Euroa National Bank Robbery of 1878 The search for Franklin Catalpa rescue - Wikipedia The Catalpa escape - Hindsight (ABC) The Catalpa Rescue - National Museum of Australia Grace Bussell - Wikipedia Australia's Grace Bussell was called the 'Grace Darling of the West' Grace Darling - Wikipedia The Grace Darling Website Open Bay Island - Teara Eureka Rebellion - Wikipedia Eureka Stockade - National Museum Australia Robertson Land Acts Biography of John Donohoe at the Australian Dictionary of Biography Biography of John Doolan at the Australian Dictionary of Biography Ben Hall - Wikipedia Dan Morgan - Wikipedia Christina Macpherson - Wikipedia Christina's letter re Waltzing Matilda, Lyrics, Original manuscript, Photographs Who'll Come A Waltzing Matilda With Me Christina's Waltzing Matilda manuscript A second Waltzing Matilda manuscript Marie Cowan (Billy Tea) arrangement (4 pages) Also, click on any image for further information. The link (caption) associated with each image often provides additional information. Further Reading "Ned Kelly a short life" 2003 edition by Ian Jones, ISBN 0-7344-0544-8 "Ned Kelly" 2013 by Peter FitzSimons, ISBN 978 1 74275 890 9 "Ellen Kelly" (novel) by Dagmar Balcarek, 1984, ISBN 0-9591260-0-7, (Blue Mountains Historical Society library) "The Wild Colonial Boy - The Life and Times of Jack Donohoe 1808(?) - 1830" by John Meredith, 1960 (Blue Mountains Historical Society library) "Eureka - From The Official Records" Compiled and edited by Ian MacFarlane, Public Records Office of Victoria, 1995, ISBN 0 7306 6011 7 "The Eureka Stockade" by Raffaello Carboni, 1855, Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, 2002 "Eureka" by Peter FitzSimons, 2012, ISBN 978 1 74275 525 0 "The Catalpa Rescue" by Peter FitzSimons, 2019, ISBN 978 0 7336 4124 4 "John Grono 1767 - 1847 Our Old Colonial Neptune" by Robert Taylor, 2007, ISBN 9780980369908 (pbk.) "Morgan the Bold Bushranger" by Margaret Carnegie, 1974, ISBN 0 207 13297 6 "A Pictorial History Of Bushrangers" by Tom Prior, Bill Wannan and H. Nunn, 1966 "The Fatal Shore" by Robert Hughes 1987, ISBN 0-330-29892-5 "Chronicle of Australia", Edited by John Ross, 1993, ISBN 1 872031 83 8 "The Sentimental Bloke And Other Verse" by C. J. Dennis, 1965 edition "A Camp-Fire Yarn, Henry Lawson 1885-1900" Compiled and edited by Leonard Cronin, 1984, ISBN 0 7018 1850 6 "A Fantasy Of Man, Henry Lawson 1901-1922" Compiled and edited by Leonard Cronin, 1984, ISBN 0 7018 1851 4 "The Songs of Henry Lawson" Compiled by Chris Kempster, 1989, ISBN 0 670 90233 0 "Singer Of The Bush, A. B. 'Banjo' Paterson 1885-1900" Collected and introduced by Rosamund Campbell and Philippa Harvie, 1983, ISBN 0 7018 1801 8 "Songs Of The Pen, A. B. 'Banjo' Paterson 1901-1941" Collected and introduced by Rosamund Campbell and Philippa Harvie, 1983, ISBN 0 7018 1802 6 "The A-Z Of Australian Facts, Myths & Legends", by Bruce Elder, 2005, ISBN 1 74110 235 9 "Waltzing Matilda" by Richard Magoffin, 1995, ISBN 1 86273 086 5 "Waltzing Matilda - " by Dennis O'Keeffe, 2012, ISBN 978 1 74237 706 3 "Songs Of England, Ireland & Scotland - A Bonnie Bunch of Roses" by Dan Milner & Paul Kaplan, 1983, ISBD 0-8256-0256-4 "Australian Bush Ballads" Edited by Douglas Stewart & Nancy Keesing, 1955 "The Penguin Australian Songbook" Compiled by J. S. Manifold, 1964, ISBN 0 14 07 0004 8 "The Second Penguin Australian Songbook" Compiled by Bill Scott, 1980, ISBN 0 14 070084 6 "The Big Book of Australian Folk Song" Ron Edwards, 1976, ISBN 0 7270 0194 9 "Complete Book of Australian Folk Lore" Compiled and annotated by Bill Scott, 1976, ISBN 0 86777 282 4 "Two Hundred And Twenty Popular Scottish Songs" Published by Mozart Allan, Glasgow, no date Some images shown in this presentation are our own or are public domain. Any others are shown by means of links to the web sites where they are located and are not resident on this web site. If you are the owner of one of these linked images and would like the link removed, please contact us: by email here or or here. |
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