Breaker Morant Waltz (by Dave and Roy Wheeler) Raymond Crooke

A song Raymond recorded in 2013. Harry Harbord Morant (1864 - 1902), who apparently changed his name from Edwin Henry Murrant, was born in Somerset, England, and came out to Queensland, Australia, in 1883. He was a drover, horseman, poet and soldier, whose skill with horses earned him the nickname "The Breaker". Most of his published work appeared in "The Bulletin" magazine On 13 March, 1884, he married Daisy May O'Dwyer, who later became famous in Australia as the anthropologist, Daisy Bates, but the couple separated soon after and never formally divorced; Daisy is said to have thrown him out after he failed to pay for the wedding and then stole some pigs and a saddle. He then worked for several years as an itinerant drover and horse-breaker, as well as writing popular bush ballads and becoming friendly with famous Australian poets such as Henry Lawson, Banjo Paterson and William Ogilvie. During service in the Second Boer War, Morant allegedly participated in the summary execution of several Boer (Afrikaner) prisoners and the killing of a German missionary, Daniel Heese, who had been a witness to the shootings. His actions led to his controversial court-martial and execution as a war criminal. Since his death, Morant has become something of a folk hero in Australia. His story has been the subject of several books, a stage play and and a major Australian movie. This song, telling the story of his life, was written by Dave Wheeler from Canberra. He kindly sent me this song, along with a couple of others, including the tall tale, "Goanna Oil", which I have uploaded a few weeks ago. Lyrics and chords: E When young Edwin Murrant arrived on our shore ....................................... B7 Australia was not yet a nation. He was keen to discover what Fate had in store ..................................................................... E And he worked on a North Queensland station. ..... A A young Irish girl was the governess there ............................................................. E And her charms he was quick to admire. He wooed her and won her, their lives they would share, ............... B7 .................................. E And he married sweet Daisy O’Dwyer But the marriage was doomed for Daisy soon learned That she had been hasty and rash, For what Edwin borrowed he never returned And he wasn’t too honest with cash. He saddled his horse and rode off down the track, For his marriage with Daisy was over, To his young Irish love he would never go back And he followed the life of a drover. It was then he decided to alter his name And he called himself Harry Morant, But this was the start of a confidence game Which he played when his money was scant. "I’m the prodigal son of an old English knight", He said as his creditors sighed, "My father, Sir Digby, will set your bill right." But Sir Digby, he never replied. So Daisy moved on and the record relates That her next marriage too was a failure. She lived with the tribes, and was called Daisy Bates, In the vastness of Western Australia Now Harry was great at the rough-riding game, The sort of bloke stockmen admire, It was skill with the horses that soon brought him fame And his deeds were retold round the fire. In the calm of the night on a far distant track, To the music of horse-bells soft chimes, He’d dash off some verses about the outback. He was handy with words and with rhymes. He signed himself "Breaker" because he broke horses, Was published with Banjo and Lawson And out where the rivers run down their slow courses Was known as poet and horseman. He wrote of the stars shining bright on a camp By the banks of the far Castlereagh. He wrote of the nights that were dewy and damp And of girls he had met on the way. He remembered a horse that was wilful and strong, But could wheel a wild steer or a cow. We’ve heard of that horse in the ballad and song "Who’s riding Old Harlequin now?" Then came the Boer War and he answered the call. He was sent where the fighting was hot. With orders unclear he saw his mates fall And somehow some prisoners were shot. He was sentenced to death by a kangaroo court, Together with Handcock, his mate. He said his last words, as game as he fought, "Come on you bastards, shoot straight." Because of injustice his spirit won’t rest And he’s back in Australia of course. He’s haunting the stock routes he followed out west And he rides on the ghost of his horse. I reckon I’ve seen them as morning mists lift From the bank of the Darling, I vow. Then into the coolibahs silent they drift And he’s riding Old Harlequin now.