Frank the Poet

[Neville Briggs]

To-morrow is the 151st anniversary of the death of Frank the Poet, arguably the first European literary figure for the Australian colony.
Francis Macnamara, Frank the Poet, born 1811 ?, died 1861. an Irish convict, is well known for his poem, A Convicts Tour of Hell, in which he consigns several colonial figures to torturous punishment in hell; including Governor Darling and Captain Rossi.

To-morrow on ABC Radio National at 1pm, ( repeated Thursday at 1pm ) the program Hindsight will be featuring a presentation on Frank the Poet.

[keats]

Yes Neville, but other than that and Moreton Bay, the poor old bloke never really produced anything that would stand up other than what historian would hope. He was a figure. Figure of irrelevance, but a figure all the same. I would probably be more impressed with the works of Charles Thatcher

http://www.egold.net.au/biogs/EG00237b.htm

But may well take the top off one to celebrate Frank's Monumental impact on Australian Bush Poetry.

Cheers

Neil

[Neville Briggs]

I'm not familiar with Charles Thatcher, I'll look him up.

He's not related to Maggie is he

[keats]

Hahaha, maybe Great Granpa to her Nev. he's an interesting character. Prolific writer of verse and songs who lived on the Vic goldfields (just don't look for any Classics amongst his works! More of a colonial) but wrote of what he saw.

Neil

[manfredvijars]

Chinese Immigration
Charles Thatcher

You doubtless read the papers,
And as men of observation,
Of course you watch the progress
Of Chinese immigration--
For thousands of these pigtail chaps
In Adelaide are landing;
And why they let such numbers come
Exceeds my understanding.

On Emerald Hill it now appears
A Joss House they've erected;
And they've got an ugly idol there--
It's just what I expected;
And they offer nice young chickens
Unto this wooden log;
And sometimes with a sucking pig
They go the entire hog.

Now some of you, perhaps, may laugh,
But 'tis my firm opinion,
This colony some day will be
Under Chinese dominion.
They'll upset the Australian government,
The place will be their own;
And an Emperor with a long pigtail,
Will sit upon the throne.

Melbourne will be the seat of power,
And then 'tis my impression,
Of the stations up the country
They'll quickly take possession.
The squatters will be used as slaves,
By the Celestial nation;
And growing tea or rice will be
Their only compensation.

The mandarins will seize for wives
The fair Australian girls;
And from Melbourne to the diggings
They'll cut lots of canals.
And for fear the coves of New South Wales
Should pay a hostile call;
Between this colony and that
No doubt they'll build a wall.

The customs of their country
Of course will then prevail;
And every English slave will have
To wear a long pigtail.
We'll all of us be fed on rice,
As true as I'm a sinner;
And 'stead of spoons we'll have to use
Those chopsticks for our dinner.

This picture, perhaps, is overdrawn;
But, however, who can say,
That all these things will not take place,
If we let them have their way.
If it comes to pass, these English songs
Away I'll quick be flinging,
And learn their language; and come out
In Chinese comic singing.

[Neville Briggs]

Thanks Manfred, He couldn't have known that they didn't need to come here, just wait until we sent our jobs and resources and money over to them.


I listened to the program on Frank Macnamara, it was fascinating. Frank the Poet was presented as highly relevent to our heritage of Australian literature because he was the only person who recorded first hand the colonial convict experience in verse.

Neil, I looked up the link on Thatcher. He seems to have been more of a popular performer than a literary figure.

[Maureen K Clifford]

Obviously a bloke thinking outside the square and way ahead of his time Mannie - his dire warnings are coming true, they pretty well already own a fair % of the farm and we are still whinging about the number of immigrants coming to our shores,

And from Melbourne to the diggings
They'll cut lots of canals.

Very popular all those houses that are scattered on inland waterways across our nation and very expensive

And for fear the coves of New South Wales
Should pay a hostile call;

Did he have State of Origin in mind do you think?

Between this colony and that
No doubt they'll build a wall.

Not quite a wall but all the wretched tollways that are springing up every where act as a pretty good deterrent to free travel - then too we do have border gates still in some states


so what's new

[Stephen Whiteside]

Thanks for the heads-up, Neville.

He was an incredible character, Frank MacNamara. You can feel the fury and suffering in so much of what he wrote.

What I find especially interesting about 'Moreton Bay' is that MacNamara never actually spent any time there. Nor did he ever meet the dreaded Captain Logan, subject of the song. Logan died in 1830. MacNamara did not arrive in Australia until 1832, so he obviously wrote the song after hearing others talk about him.

[manfredvijars]

Moreton Bay
Attributed to Francis MacNamara, originally titled 'The Convict's Arrival' or 'The Convict's Lament on the Death of Captain Logan'

One Sunday morning as I went walking
By Brisbane waters I chanced to stray
I heard a convict his fate bewailing
As on the sunny river bank he lay
I am a native from Erin's island
Transported 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 woked in chains
But of all places of condemnation
And penal stations of New South Wales
Of Moreton Bay I have 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 from flogging was lacerated
And often slain with my crimson gore
And many a man from downright starvation
Lies mouldering underneath the clay
And Captain Logan he had us mangled
At the triangles in Moreton Bay

Like the Egyptians and ancient Hebrews
We were oppressed under Logan's yoke
Till a native black lying there in ambush
Did give our tyrant his mortal stroke
My fellow prisoners exhilarated
That all such monsters a death shall find
And when from bondage we’re liberated
Our former sufferings shall fade from mind
---

[Neville Briggs]

Thanks for that Manfred.
I was interested to hear on the radio program that one of Frank the Poet's greatest champions is Les Murray, and Les Murray read out some of Frank's poems on the program. Read very well too.