[Editor: This poem by Barcroft Boake was published in Where the Dead Men Lie and Other Poems (1897).]
Jack Corrigan
‘It’s my shout this time, boys; so come along and breast the bar,
And kindly mention what you’re going to take;
I don’t feel extra thirsty, so I’ll sample that three-star’ —
Now, lad! come, look alive, for goodness sake!’
So spake he, as he raised the brimming glass towards the light;
So spake Long Jack, the boldest mountaineer
Who ever down from Nungar raced a brumby mob in flight,
Or laid a stockwhip on a stubborn steer.
From Jindabyne to Providence along the Eucumbene
The kindest-hearted fellow to be found;
And when he crossed the saddle not a horse was ever seen
That could make Jack quit his hold to seek the ground.
The women smiled with pleasure, the children laughed aloud,
The very dogs came barking to his feet,
While outside the Squatters’ Arms the men came forward in a crowd
To welcome Jack when he rode up the street.
But though the boldest horseman who by midnight or by day
E’er held a mob of cattle on a camp,
There were squatters on Monaro who had yet been known to say
That Jack was an unmitigated scamp.
And true it is Jack Corrigan possessed a serious fault
Which caused his gentle, blue-eyed wife much grief,
And many were the bitter tears she mingled with the salt
With which she cured their neighbours’ tend’rest beef.
And often would she tearful take her smiling spouse to task —
Who’d answer, as her pretty face he kissed,
That a beast lost all identity when pickled in the cask,
And a bullock more or less would ne’er be missed.
But now as Jack stood all prepared to toss his nobbler down,
A softly-murmured whisper met his ear:
‘I just saw Trooper Fraser get a warrant up the town:
He’s after you, old man: you’d better clear!’
Jack never thanked the donor of this excellent advice,
As the glass fell through his fingers with a crash:
With a bound across the footpath, he was mounted in a trice
And speeding down the roadway like a flash,
While Trooper William Fraser wore a very gloomy face,
As he watched his prey go flying down the road;
But he settled in the saddle and prepared to give him chase,
As Jack struck out a line for his abode.
On the road toward the Show Ground then there hung a big swing-gate:
Jack’s filly cleared its bars in glorious style;
But he held her well together, for he knew the trooper’s weight
Would give him half a distance in each mile;
For Jack rode twelve stone fully, while Bill Fraser rode but nine:
Sweetbriar’s strength must surely soon be spent,
Being grass-fed, while the trooper’s chestnut horse could always dine
Off oats and barley to his heart’s content.
And all aloud Jack cursed the day he’d ever killed a beast
Or branded calf he couldn’t call his own,
While the hoof-strokes on the road beat out a song that never ceased
To echo in his ear with mocking tone.
‘Three years in gaol! in gaol three years!’ the jeering echoes sang:
The granite boulders caught the wild refrain:
‘A broken life! a weeping wife!’ ’twas thus the rhythm rang;
‘And a baby boy you’ll never see again!’
He groaned; and then, to dull the sound, spoke loudly to the mare,
And bade her never slacken in her speed:
‘For God’s sake take me home, lass, with a little time to spare!
Five minutes, at the most, is all I need:
Just time to catch old Dandy, where’s he’s munching second growth
Of hay: just time to leap upon his back;
And then the smartest trap who ever swore a lying oath
Could never foot me down the River track.’
Sweetbriar pricked her ears, and shook a foam-flake from her bit
As she heard his words, and doubtless caught their sense;
And the rotten granite pebbles rattled round her as she lit
On the homeward side the Rosedale bound’ry fence.
As they scrambled round by Locker’s Hill, Jack Corrigan looked round,
And as he looked was filled with stern delight,
For he saw the bald-faced chestnut struggling fiercely on the ground,
Though the hill shut out the sequel from his sight.
His triumph was but short, for, as he stemmed the wide morass,
Where floods had muddied waters once so clear
And left the giant tussocks tangled tightly in a mass,
The trooper still kept drawing on his rear.
The Murrumbidgee’s icy stream was widened out by flood:
They swam it at the willow-shaded ford:
As they passed the station buildings his long spurs were red with blood;
Sweetbriar’s heaving flanks were deeply scored.
Her stride grew more uneven, though she answered every call:
No jockey rode a better race than Jack
As he eased her up the hills and pressed her onward down the fall,
Round the sidlings of the Billylingra track.
They left O’Rourke’s behind them, where it fronts the big bald hill —
At the Flat Rock Jack was riding all he knew —
With all the dash and judgment of the famed Monaro skill,
Yet he couldn’t keep the trooper out of view:
He spied his tiny homestead as Bill Fraser gained apace
And loudly warned the fugitive to yield,
Who turned half round but saw no sign of pity in his face
As they swept across the cultivation field:
Their hoofs’ dull thunder brought the wife in wonder to the gate:
She waved her hand in answer to his shout;
While Dandy from his paddock whinnied loudly to his mate
To know what all the trouble was about.
‘God help us now! the end has come!’ the wretched woman cried,
And leant against the gate to catch her breath;
While the tiny, blue-eyed toddler cheered his father on his ride
Towards the ghastly winning-post of Death.
‘The filly’s failing fast!’ thought Jack; ‘she’s nothing but a weed;
It’s a certainty she can’t keep long in front.
I’ll make a splendid target, if he likes to draw a bead,
As I try to cross the river on the punt.
He left the mare and scrambled through the ti-tree growing rank,
Deep-rooted in its bed of yellow clay;
But when he reached the river, stood and trembled on the bank:
‘My God!’ he hoarsely said, ‘it’s swept away!’
The punt was gone: the wire rope still stretched from shore to shore:
Jack paused but half a moment to decide,
And as he scrambled down the bank the wond’ring trooper saw
Him struggling half across the rushing tide.
The angry waters swept him down, and every nerve was strained
To keep his hold upon the frail support:
Though icy numbness seized him, yet his courage never waned:
The hope of freedom filled his every thought.
The rope swayed low beneath his weight and bellied to the stream:
Around his head the flying ripples curled;
While high above the river’s roar rang out the awful scream
Of a soul that flies in terror from the world,
As a mighty log, borne swiftly on the bosom of the flood,
Resistless swept him ’neath the eager wave
That sucked him down to river depths; and there beneath the mud
Jack Corrigan sought out a nameless grave.
‘Good-bye to life! good-bye to life!’ the mocking wavelets sang:
The towering cliffs took up the wild refrain.
‘A broken life! a weeping wife!’ ’twas thus the rhythm rang,
‘And a baby boy he’ll never see again!’
Source:
Barcroft Boake, Where the Dead Men Lie and Other Poems, Sydney (NSW): Angus and Robertson, 1897, pp. 106-112
Also published in:
The Bulletin (Sydney, NSW), 4 June 1892, p. 7, columns 3-4 by [Barcroft H. Boake]
Relevant notes from the “Notes to poems” section in this book:
24. JACK CORRIGAN, p. 106. — Posthumously printed in The Bulletin, June 4, 1892. Signed ‘Barcroft H. Boake.’ An editor’s note was appended: ‘Found among the papers of the late Barcroft H. Boake.’
This ballad, like most by Boake, is founded on fact. ‘Locker’s hill,’ ‘the Flat Rock,’ etc., are landmarks well known in the district around Rosedale station, previously referred to.
Editor’s notes:
A note accompanying these verses in The Bulletin (4 June 1892), says of the poem: “* Found among the papers of the late Barcroft H. Boake.” [on page 7, at the bottom of column 3]
bellied = bulged, swelled
bound’ry = (vernacular) boundary
brumby = a wild horse, a feral horse; can also have a negative meaning, referring to a horse which is regarded as inferior or worthless (plural: brumbies)
clear = clear out (depart, leave, move); clear off, go away
e’er = (vernacular) an archaic contraction of “ever”
Eucumbene = the Eucumbene River, a river located in the Snowy Mountains region of New South Wales
See: “Eucumbene River”, Wikipedia
look alive = get a move on, get busy, hurry up, start working in earnest; act or move fast or quickly; be energetic; be alert, pay attention
mob = a large group of animals, especially used when referring to cattle, horses, kangaroos, and sheep; also used to refer to a group of people, sometimes — although definitely not always — used in a negative or derogatory sense (possibly as an allusion to a group of dumb or wild animals), but also used in a positive sense (e.g. “they’re my mob”), especially amongst Australian Aborigines
Monaro = a region in the south of New South Wales
See: “Monaro (New South Wales)”, Wikipedia
Murrumbidgee = a major river in New South Wales, a tributary of the Murray River
’neath = (vernacular) beneath
ne’er = (vernacular) an archaic contraction of “never”
nobbler = a drink of beer or spirits; a dram of spirits
Nungar = a locality in New South Wales, located north-west of Cooma and south-east of the Yarrangobilly Caves
punt = a pontoon; a narrow shallow boat with a flat bottom, with the front and rear squared-off, which is usually propelled through the water by the use of a pole
score = to cut or scratch a line in something; a line created by a cut or scratch; an incision or notch
shout = to buy drinks for others; to buy a round of drinks, especially in a pub
spake = (archaic) spoke
squatter = in the context of Australian history, a squatter was originally someone who kept their livestock (mostly cattle and sheep) upon Crown land without permission to do so (thus illegally occupying land, or “squatting”); however, the practice became so widespread that eventually the authorities decided to formalise it by granting leases or licenses to occupy or use the land; and, with the growth of the Australian economy, many of the squatters became quite rich, and the term “squatter” came to refer to someone with a large amount of farm land (they were often regarded as rich and powerful)
station = a large rural holding used for raising livestock, usually sheep or cattle (a pastoral property); can also refer to the principal homestead and main business centre of a pastoral property
See: “Station (Australian agriculture)”, Wikipedia
tend’rest = (vernacular) tenderest (i.e. the most tender)
three-star = the name of a brandy (alcoholic drink), being either Martell’s Three Star Brandy or Hennessy’s Three Star Brandy
trap = policeman (plural: “traps”, policemen)
trooper = a mounted policeman, in the Australian colonies (in the modern military, it refers to a rank equivalent to private in an armoured or cavalry unit, or to a member of the Special Air Service)
’twas = (archaic) a contraction of “it was”
wane = decrease gradually in intensity, number, size, strength, or volume (e.g. “the moonlight waxed and waned”); to lose power or significance (e.g. “on the wane”); to come to a close, approach the end
weed = someone or something which is very thin in appearance
wond’ring = (vernacular) wondering
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