Yarri Of Wiradjuri

by John Warner / The Roaring Forties

/
1.
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Landpulse 01:42
Walk the land easy, You can feel the pulse beat, Loud as a cockatoo's call In the soles of feet. Rhythms of water, Dance of growth and decay, Walk the land easy in the heat of day. Then came an alien race, Out of time and pattern, out of place, They did not feel the pulse, Imposing broken rhythm, fierce and false, Pale of face, a people out of place. Walk the land easy, As Wiradjuri do, Learn the pace of Emu and Kangaroo. Pattern of season, Daylight's pulse in the sky, By the land's rhythm we live and die. Then came the pale of face, Made of us a strange and alien race, Thrust us from our land, Imposed their broken pulse with a heavy hand, No pattern and no grace, They made of us a people out of place.
3.
Prologue 01:17
4.
Born in the highland snows, Wild in her youth's descending, Swiftly she fills and grows Out on her floodplains, winding and bending, Feeding the towering gums, Bush in creek and gully, Sharing her bounties wide, Spreading soil in plain and valley. Murrumbidgee fair, Murrumbidgee fertile, Nurturing at your breasts we who walk here for a little while. High on a ridge we stand, gazing in love and awe Over the lands you made with your gentle hands: how rich the gifts you pour. Over her years of floods, Current twisting wild and strong, Children she made in the land, Creek and anabranch, pond and billabong. Bright on the wide floodplain Glints the rippling water, Proudly side by side, Flow the mother and the daughter. Murrumbidgee fair, Murrumbidgee fertile, Nurturing at your breasts we who walk here for a little while. High on a ridge we stand, gazing in love and awe Over the lands you made with your gentle hands: how rich the gifts you pour. We have known the drought, we have seen her anger, Hurling trees in her rage, we've known thirst and we've borne hunger. Yet for those who seek, beauty waits in hiding, In some shaded pools wait the fruits of her providing. Silver mist like hair, As the day is dawning, Marks the river's way As we hunt on a winter's morning, Duck and cod from the stream, Fruit and fungus, plant and seed, Kangaroo on the plain, See, she gives us all we need. Murrumbidgee fair, Murrumbidgee fertile, Nurturing at your breasts we who walk here for a little while. High on a ridge we stand, gazing in love and awe Over the lands you made with your gentle hands: how rich the gifts you pour.
5.
Invasion 00:46
6.
White man fool to camp on the low ground, Big water come down. White fulla* learn the ways of the land or drown. One white man crossed the Murrumbidgee, Soon there followed ten, Soon there followed carts and cattle, Horses, women, children, men. White man fool to camp on the low ground, Big water come down. White fulla learn the ways of the land or drown. Water's high down at the crossing, Travellers wait for days, Smart man here has set up a sly-grog, Can't you see how the business pays. White man fool to camp on the low ground, Big water come down. White fulla learn the ways of the land or drown. Smart man here has set up a sly-grog, A saddler's put roots down, Blacksmith, tailor, butcher, baker, Before you know it, there's a town. White man fool to camp on the low ground, Big water come down. White fulla learn the ways of the land or drown. And the floods they come and the floods they go, Wiradjuri people warn and plead, But what's two inches of mud in the shop To the hopes of profit, the drive of need? Build an attic up in the rafters, Done in a day or so, We'll be safe upstairs when the river rises, What do the primitive natives know? White man fool to camp on the low ground, Big water come down. White fulla learn the ways of the land or drown. * indigenous pronunciation of "fellow"
7.
Canoe Tree 00:56
8.
Gang gangs chatter, break of day, Mists on Murrumbidgee lay, Yarri's hunting, out on his bark canoe, Two skilled hands a moment take, To snap the neck of a fat, black drake, Yarri, what kind of man were you? On Brungle's hills where kestrels sweep Above the white man's sullen sheep, Yarri keeps the roaming herd in view, Patient watch, long day, long night, When August spits her hail with spite, Yarri, what kind of man were you? Yarri of Wiradjuri, what kind of man were you? What dreams turned in your spirit When the strange white folk came through? Did their wonders take you by surprise? Did they bully, bible and baptise, But never see the land through your clear eyes? Yarri, what kind of man were you? Strangers not of Wiradjuri blood Fill the flats like a rising flood, Setting camp where wise folk never do, Are they fools to leave to their well-earned doom, Or kindred, born of the Mother's womb? Yarri, what kind of man were you? What made you bold, how did you learn, To ride the tide at its wildest turn, As it flowed between two peoples, old and new? Reconciliation's spark, You balanced tall on your boat of bark, Yarri, what kind of man were you? Yarri of Wiradjuri, what kind of man were you? What dreams turned in your spirit When the strange white folk came through? Did their wonders take you by surprise? Did they bully, bible and baptise, But never see the land through your clear eyes? Yarri, what kind of man were you? Yarri, what kind of man were you?
9.
Flood Signs 01:11
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I'm a smart man of business, John Spencer's my name, I've dabbled me fingers in many a game, At brewing and pharmacy, I'm way out front, But the best profits come from my old red gum punt My old red gum punt, my old red gum punt, To cross the Murrumbidgee is no easy stunt, Yours truly, John Spencer, is well out in front, With his pretty investment, his old red gum punt. If you're feeling dyspeptic, I'll roll you a pill, You can sample a drop from my wee backroom still, But if you'd cross the 'Bidgee there's no need to hunt, Right here at the bank is my old red gum punt. My old red gum punt, my old red gum punt etc You can swim your team over, casks lashed to the dray, While I take the ladies the elegant way, But don't ask for credit, for that's an affront, It's cash on the nail for my old red gum punt. My old red gum punt, my old red gum punt etc Those black fellows warn not to build on the flat, But Gundagai business won't put up with that, It's bad for the growth, if I might be so blunt, It'll be a big flood stops my old red gum punt My old red gum punt, my old red gum punt - etc I've a stout iron cash box, a solid brass lock, A good can of grease, and lots more in my stock, I can swim a good mile, though I puff and I grunt, But there's naught that I fear with my old red gum punt. My old red gum punt, my old red gum punt - etc
11.
12.
Black Sally 04:09
Sally: Children chase frogs there at the creek, Sally and white lady speak. Black Sally's hand, pale Sarah's skin, Yet same red blood flow within. Your man have woman, your man have child, Why he not fear when the river runs wild? Beautiful lady, pale as the snow, Take up your children and go. Sarah: I've mending and baking and washing to do, And Richard would not have me talking to you, But perhaps there's a moment to listen and stay, And give Emmy and John chance to play. Sally: Since Sally was child she wandered free, Why put down roots like a tree? Yarri, my man, tender and strong, He never stay one place long, In every season, all that we need, In caves where we gather, Bogong moth breed, Beautiful lady, pale as the snow, Take up your children and go. Sarah: I've no time for this, it's not good to hear, We've come too far and we must settle here, These little ones need a safe place to grow, Come Emily, John, time to go. Sally: Till your folk came, along the bush track, I never knew I was black. What colour hands? what colour hair? You, me have children to care. When Murrumbidgee angry and high, Mothers with young children die. Beautiful lady, pale as the snow, Take up your children and go. Sarah: There's fear in my spirit, I cannot deny Dread of that river where young children die I want to be strong but you trouble me so Oh should I stay? Should I go? (Sarah repeats her verse concurrent with Sally repeating her last verse) When Murrumbidgee angry and high, There's fear in my spirit, I cannot deny Mothers with young children die. Dread of that river where young children die Beautiful lady, pale as the snow, I want to be strong but you trouble me so Take up your children and go. Oh should I stay? Should I go? Take up your children and go.
13.
Warning 00:39
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Sarah (S): Richard, my love, let's move up to the high ground, I'm sick of the drudgery after each flood. Richard (R): Sarah, we need to stay here for the business, We can't lose the trade for six inches of mud. S: Richard, my dearest, old Black Sally warned me, The river can rise higher up than we know. R: Sarah, stop heeding the tales of the natives, The attic's quite safe, be the stream high or low. Some of our dreams are of homes we are making, Children and laughter and joy for the taking, But older dreams warn us of dread and heartbreaking, As the land's ancient spirits go hunting. S: Richard, let's trade this old place for a new one, Build on the high ground to comfort my fears. R: Sarah, the Governor says we must buy land, And paying off such a loan might take us years. S: Richard, I dreamed of two tall, native women Who netted our children like blacks do their fish. R: Sarah, I've debts for my leather and harness, But I'll ask around town, love, if that's what you wish. Some of our dreams are of homes we are making etc S: Richard, I beg of you, move for the children, Emily, Caroline, Richard and John. R: Woman, desist from your fears and your nagging, There's work at the crossing, I have to be gone. Black Sally reprise: When Murrumbidgee angry and high Mothers with young children die Beautiful lady, pale as the snow Take up your children and go R: Sarah, I've spoken to Ryan this morning, We'll move up the range to his place in July. S: Richard, my love, hold me close for a moment, I fear for this good news, though I don't know why. Some of our dreams are of homes we are making etc
15.
16.
Grieve for the memory of Richard and Sarah, Emily, Caroline, Richard and John, For great Murrumbidgee took them in her raging, In the net of that cold, ancient mother -- they are gone
17.
18.
High in the trees through the current swirling, Yarri comes on his bark canoe, Where raging streams huge trunks are hurling, Yarri comes on his bark canoe, Little more than an eight foot plank Cut from a red gum along the bank, Riding easy where other boats sank, Yarri comes on his bark canoe. To gum tree branches or rooftops beaching, Yarri comes on his bark canoe, To the frightened, stranded, crying, reaching, Yarri comes on his bark canoe, They lie down flat on the sheet of bark, To be sped ashore on this scant Noah's Ark, Then out for more in the heaving dark, Yarri comes on his bark canoe. --- Roof Top Shanty --- Slide down shingles, clinging tight, Hold on, hold on Steady with the feet, don't slip, don't fight, Hold on, hold on, Ease down flat, give the pilot room, Hold on, hold on Trust through the battering, shaking gloom, Hold on, hold on. Tree limb knives thrust out of the race, Hold on, hold on The bark heaves round and you hide your face, Hold on, hold on, Crossing the creek she bucks like a horse, Hold on, hold on Yarri fights her with all his force, Hold on, hold on, hold on. --- Yarri's Bark Canoe (reprise) --- Safe to the rescued along the banks, Yarri comes on his bark canoe, Then away before you can speak your thanks, Yarri goes on his bark canoe. For out on the waters voices cry, Some may not live, but none shall die, As long as he has the strength to try, Yarri comes on his bark canoe. Corpses looming against the sky Frozen or drowned in the treetops high Told of the cost, yet still to buy. Yarri came on his bark canoe. Yarri came on his bark canoe Yarri came on his bark canoe
19.
Through the savage gusts of hail Until the black of night turned pale, Each time you ventured out the risks were new. Did you pay the cost alone In aching muscle, nerve and bone? Yarri, what kind of man were you? Whatever motive drove you back To face the river's fierce attack, As strength began to ebb and dangers grew? It's an awesome act of mind and will That welded body, soul and skill, Yarri, what kind of man were you? Yarri of Wiradjuri, what kind of man were you? What dreams turned in your spirit When the strange white folk came through? Did their wonders take you by surprise? Did they bully, bible and baptise, But never see the land through your clear eyes? Yarri, what kind of man were you? Yarri, what kind of man were you?
20.
Desperation 00:36
21.
I dreamed I lay by Murrumbidgee, The silt-strand stank of mud and decay, I saw two female forms a-talking, And here record what I heard them say.
22.
Mother: Daughter, look here, what are these we have taken?, What are these small spirits cowering here? Daughter: These ones are not of the land's ancient people, Who go in silence and never in fear. Mother: Did they not know of our seasons of hunting? Why should they winter so long on our range? Daughter: Well were they warned by Wiradjuri old men, These are not ours and their ways are strange. Mother: Surely we sent their young women our dreaming? Surely they fear for their children and kin? Daughter: They do not feel how the land's life is pulsing, Nor see a heart under darker skin. Mother: Daughter, I see them camp here in their thousands, Swarming like termites on our fruitful plains. Daughter: Mother I hear the land's people lamenting, As these bleed their living from out of our veins. Duo: You fearful children, the fruit of our hunting, Return to suckle the great mother's breast, Be like our own, let fall fear and anger, Drink deep oblivion - and rest.
23.
Jackey 02:14
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25.
Jackey 2 00:45
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Floodpulse 01:44
Ride the stream easy, Jackey, Work it with care, Watch for the broken timbers hiding there, Stand in the bow where you can Feel the pulse beat, Judging the current through the soles of feet, With his single oar, Rowing out to bring the trapped ashore, The fearful pale of face Clinging high above the surging race, At his careful pace, Jackey brings them safely to their place. Ride Murrumbidgee, Jackey, Drive out again, Stretch bone and muscle through the freezing rain. Set them numb white fullas to bailing that leak, Fight the wild eddies as you cross the creek. In the bow he stands, Listening to the water and the land, Lifting out of fear The living, left of those who would not hear. With others of his race, Jackey stands, the right man in his place.
27.
Jackey 3 00:19
28.
My name is Thomas Lindley, as "Long Tom" I'm renowned, My inn's the best in Gundagai, on the hills my sheep abound. In early June of '52, with two stout drays well full, I set out for the town of Yass to sell the season's wool. For wool and ale and food and drink Are but the means of life, And what are these without the love Of children, friends and wife. When I returned to Gundagai, my heart with grief was sore, To see the river's dreadful work, for the town stood there no more. Sad men were laying bodies out and my spirit turned to lead, To hear my wife and children all being numbered with the dead. For wool and ale and food and drink Are but the means of life, And what are these without the love Of children, friends and wife. The Rose Inn's standing where it stood, a weary sight to view, Mocking my beloved lost, and all the joys I knew, But Long Tom Lindley does not bow beneath his load of pain, Oh, I shall grieve, but I shall strive, and win new life again. (No chorus) For here, where my lost children lie, and where good friends have drowned, My aching soul declines to leave, for this is sacred ground. And so Tom Lindley's hands must work with patience, strength and skill, And we will build new Gundagai upon Parnassus hill. (Last chorus unaccompanied) For wool and ale and food and drink Are but the means of life, And what are these without the love Of children, friends and wife.
29.
Aftermath 00:38
30.
Reward 02:28
Chorus: What reward do we give the hero, Who won back lives from the river's hand? Name the prize for his worth and valour. Solo: Give him cattle, give him land. Yarri: How is the land a gift you can give me, Land I've walked since my father's day? Fish and birds, wombat, kangaroo, These are the cattle along my way. Chorus: What reward do we give the hero, For strength, endurance, courage, skill? Solo: Axes, rifles, pots and billies, To ease his living on plain and hill. Yarri: Two good hands are my axe and rifle, Shaping the spears that fell my prey, Clay and pebbles my pots and billy, The ants have what I can't bear away. Chorus: What reward do we give the hero, Money, property, tools or food? Solo: How dare one of your race be Ungrateful for our gratitude? Yarri: What I have done, I do for the people, Bone of my bone, blood of my blood, Would you not have done this for me, Were I the prey of the Mother's flood? Chorus: What reward do we give the hero, What reward for the lives he saved? Solo: Words in the mouth of a council speaker, A plate of brass with his deeds engraved. Yarri: No reward have I ever asked you, All I need is here to my hand, Love and honour among my people, The river's bounty, the endless land. On my walkabout, now there are fences, Sheep graze lands that my people knew, This reward you give with one hand, Taking all that I loved with two. Chorus: Take the honour we give you hero, Wear its token as long as you live, Land we take from a dying people, What you ask we shall never give, Solo: The land we take, though you never forgive.
31.
Conclusions 01:05
32.
There are bridges on the plain for the bullock cart and train, In the years that passed, we've made the land anew, But we still don't understand how you were of the land, Yarri, what kind of man were you? Ah, what kind of folk are we with our cold prosperity, Seizing all that comes within our view, How the bitter memory galls, you built bridges, we built walls, Yarri, what kind of man were you? Yarri of Wiradjuri, what kind of man were you? What dreams turned in your spirit When the strange white folk came through? Did their wonders take you by surprise, Did they bully, bible and baptise, But never see the land through your clear eyes? Yarri, what kind of man were you? Can we let go what we hold? Can a thief let go of gold? Can law and business let go of the land? For as long as we insist on keeping greed clutched in our fist, What chance is there to take another's hand? Yarri of Wiradjuri, what kind of folk are we? Is there reconciliation? what hope we can agree? Your voice cries out from the wounded land, Your bark wheels round at your command, And now you're reaching out your hand, Yarri, if only we could see, Yarri, if only we could see.
33.
Now have the songs been sung, Now is the story ended, Told is the hero's tale, Bold was his heart and his deeds were splendid, Sing his spirit home, Back to his people's dreaming, Under the river gums, Out on the plains by the waters gleaming; Murrumbidgee fair, Murrumbidgee fertile, Nurturing at your breasts we who walk here for a little while, High on a ridge we stand, gazing in love and awe, Over the lands you made with your gentle hands, How rich the gifts you pour.

about

A Song & Verse Cycle by John Warner

In June 1852, a massive flood demolished the original township of Gundagai which was then built on the Murrumbidgee floodplain. Eighty-nine people are known to have lost their lives. The Wiradjuri people — with their knowledge of the land in all its moods — saved the lives of many Europeans.

This story tells of one such hero, Yarri, who was one of the first on the river, in the deadliest conditions at the height of the flood, in only a bark canoe. Yarri's is one of the most dramatic stories of Aboriginal-European interaction and certainly one of very few from an English perspective in which the Aboriginal people are clearly shown in a heroic light.

While the story is well known in the Gundagai region, it not as widely known as it deserves. John Warner heard of the flood and Yarri's heroism in 1997 and began writing the series of poems and songs that make up the cycle using the English traditional folk styles he knows best. John collaborated with singing partner, Margaret Walters, in writing the piece.

During the process, they consulted with many Indigenous people, particularly the Elders from Brungle where Yarri came from. Many of the characters in the musical are based on historical sources; others — the Mother and the Daughter — are river spirits from the author's imagination.

The song and verse cycle Yarri of Wiradjuri acknowledges Indigenous ownership of the land and recognises several aspects of European culpability in their dispossession. Most importantly, it celebrates the Aboriginal people as heroes and contributes to our shared history.

Indigenous performers Matthew Doyle and Marlene Cummins have joined John and Margaret in performance of Yarri, as well as members of the Roaring Forties and Wheelers and Dealers. When it was shown at Gundagai on the 150th anniversary of the flood in 2002 it was warmly received by the people in the region by people who saw it as a positive vehicle for reconciliation — including Senior Wiradjuri Elder Flo Grant and Pastor Cec Grant, Wongamar OAM.

Characters

The central characters were selected from the published material available at Gundagai. The businessman, John Spencer, was a brewer, pharmacist, storekeeper who had a punt for hire. With an unerring eye for the main chance, he dispensed with everything, including his clothes, when he swam for his life -- but not his cashbox!

Thomas Lindley — known as Long Tom, owner of Rose Inn, wool grazier - lost all his family during the flood. Tom subsequently remarried and became a prominent character in Gundagai. His descendants are still significant figures in the local community.

Saddler Richard Hunt, his wife Sarah, and their three children stood out from the list of the dead because they were a family lost together in the flood. John fictionalised some of what is known to highlight the conflict between staying on the floodplain for trade and moving to higher ground for safety.

The story needed some way to dramatise the flood as an active adversary. The author gave the river a female personality. Since both the Murrumbidgee and its anabranch, Morley's Creek, were the vehicle of the flood, John depicts them as spirits, the Mother and the Daughter. This made supernatural elements possible in the story and creating an opportunity for a dramatic discussion about the differences between European and Indigenous values.

Yarri — a Wiradjuri man from Brungle — worked as a shepherd. He, Jackey, and other Wiradjuri saved the lives of reputedly 49 Europeans during the 1852 flood. The European settlers were very grateful to Yarri and Jackey and presented them with inscribed bronze breastplates in recognition of their bravery. Some years later — in 1875 —Yarri was baptised as James McDonnell. He died in 1880 and there are several memorials to his honour in Gundagai.

Jackey was an employee of Joseph Andrews and credited with saving at least 20 lives during the flood, using a rowing boat in the style of a bark canoe.

Black Sally, Yarri's wife, died on walkabout in 1902. We only know Yarri by his actions, and thus the recurring song, Yarri of the River, asks: "Yarri, what kind of man were you?" Yarri speaks for himself and his people only once - in the song Reward — a stark statement about the impact of European settlement and culture on the Wiradjuri people and their land.

www.nma.gov.au/defining-moments/resources/gundagai-flood-1852

credits

released September 1, 2006

Music and lyrics: John Warner
Narration: John Derum
Singers & Musicians: The Roaring Forties (Don Brian, Robin Connaughton, Tom Hanson, Jennifer Lees, Margaret Walters, John Warner), Matthew Doyle, Tony Pyrzakowski, Christine Wheeler
Arrangements: John Warner and ensemble
Co-producers: Christina Mimmocchi & David Gilfillan
Final mix and mastering: Robin Gist
Artwork: Tom & Jessie Hanson
Disc illustration: Tony Pyrzakowski
Pre-production: Margaret Walters
Manufacturing: MAD CDs, NSW madcds.com.au

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Margaret Walters Sydney, Australia

Rock solid, Margaret's voice is right where it needs to be, whether delivering a clarion call for social justice, a tender lullaby, a lively or poignant folk tale, an uplifting hymn to Mother Earth, a rousing work song of the yardarm or an up-yours from a feisty lass. Margaret usually sings unaccompanied, favouring the folk tradition and some select contemporary writers. ... more

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