Now remembered mainly from the film with the same name, this poems was taken from the book " The Man from Snowy River and Other Verses" by A B (Banjo), Paterson.The poem tells the story of a valuable horse which escapes and the princely sum offered by its owner for its safe return. All the riders in the area gather to pursue the wild bush horses and cut the valuable horse from the mob. But the country defeats them all - except for 'The Man from Snowy River'. His personal courage and skill has turned him into a legend.
It is thought that Paterson based the character of The Man from Snowy River on Jack Riley from Corryong, although this is often disputed with the argument put that Paterson created a composite character from a number of people he met.
"The Man from Snowy River" is a poem by Australian bush poet Banjo Paterson. It was first published in The Bulletin, an Australian news magazine, on 26 April 1890, and was published by Angus & Robertson in October 1895, with other poems by Paterson, in The Man from Snowy River and Other Verses.[1][2]
The poem tells the story of a horseback pursuit to recapture the colt of a prizewinning racehorse that escaped from its paddock and is living with the brumbies (wild horses) of the mountain ranges. Eventually the brumbies descend a seemingly impassable steep slope, at which point the assembled riders give up the pursuit, except the young protagonist, who spurs his "pony" (small horse) down the "terrible descent" and catches the mob.
The Snowy River, from where "the Man" comes, has its headwaters in the Snowy Mountains, the highest section of the Great Dividing Range near the easternmost part of the border between New South Wales and Victoria. The ride does not take place in the Snowy River region because, within the poem, Clancy describes to the other men the country from where "the man from Snowy River" comes.
The poem was written at a time in the 1880s and 1890s when Australia was developing a distinct identity as a nation. Though Australia was still a set of self-governing colonies under the final authority of Britain, and had not yet trod the path of nationhood, there was a distinct feeling that Australians needed to be united and become as one. Australians from all walks of life, be they from the country or the city (Clancy of the Overflow), looked to the bush for their mythology and heroic characters. They saw in the Man from Snowy River a hero whose bravery, adaptability and risk-taking could epitomise a new nation in the south. This new nation emerged as the Commonwealth of Australia in 1901.
I am watching the McGregor saga on Amazon Prime and am wondering about the history behind the TV show. In the film the story seems to follow the Banjo Patterson poem and speak of the character Jim Craig and attribute the ride to him, in the TV show it attributes the ride to Matt McGregor. This simple conflict of viewpoints bothers me in the simple fact it just confuses me. Are these two media's correlated to one another? Or do they take place completely separate from one another?
The Man from Snowy River is composed of 1050 words of 96 lines set in 14 stanzas. Using Australian vernacular, similes, and metaphors, the poem conjures up a tale of courage, tenacity, endurance, and the Australian notions of mateship and a " fair go".
Here's "The Man from Snowy River" (1890) by A.B. "Banjo" Paterson (1864-1941). (This is on my YouTube channel, which mostly consists of my Sasha Reads playlist, plus a smattering of law-related songs.) See also a previous Paterson poem I posted, "Clancy of the Overflow".
Australia is a land of rugged beauty, with sprawling landscapes that have been the inspiration for many of its cultural icons. One such icon is "The Man from Snowy River," a poem written by Banjo Paterson in 1890 that tells the story of a young horseman's daring ride down a steep mountain slope to recapture a herd of wild horses.
The poem became an instant hit and has since become one of the most well-known works of Australian literature, inspiring countless adaptations and cultural references. In this article, we'll explore the origins of "The Man from Snowy River" and how it became an Australian cultural icon.
Beyond its adaptations, "The Man from Snowy River" has become a cultural touchstone in Australia, with references to the poem and its characters appearing in everything from political speeches to popular music. In 1988, the poem was even featured on a commemorative $10 banknote, further solidifying its place in Australian cultural heritage.
As you can see, "The Man from Snowy River" has become an enduring cultural icon in Australia, capturing the spirit of bravery and resilience that is celebrated in Australian culture. Banjo Paterson's poem has inspired countless adaptations and cultural references, and its legacy continues to live on in the hearts and minds of Australians.
The man from Snowy River immortalised in Banjo Paterson\\u2019s famous poem has always been portrayed as a white man, but new claims in a book suggest he was based on events surrounding an Indigenous stockman.
Jack Riley (that's him on the left) was a hermit stockman who worked for John Pearce of Greg Greg Station at Corryong. He was employed to run cattle at a remote place called 'Tom Groggin', 60 kilometres upriver from Khancoban in New South Wales.
There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around
That the colt from old Regret had got away,
And had joined the wild bush horses - he was worth a thousand pound,
So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.
All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far
Had mustered at the homestead overnight,
For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are,
And the stockhorse snuffs the battle with delight.
There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won the cup,
The old man with his hair as white as snow;
But few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly up -
He would go wherever horse and man could go.
And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand,
No better horseman ever held the reins;
For never horse could throw him while the saddle girths would stand,
He learnt to ride while droving on the plains.
And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy beast,
He was something like a racehorse undersized,
With a touch of Timor pony - three parts thoroughbred at least -
And such as are by mountain horsemen prized.
He was hard and tough and wiry - just the sort that won't say die -
There was courage in his quick impatient tread;
And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye,
And the proud and lofty carriage of his head.
But still so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to stay,
And the old man said, "That horse will never do
For a long a tiring gallop - lad, you'd better stop away,
Those hills are far too rough for such as you."
So he waited sad and wistful - only Clancy stood his friend -
"I think we ought to let him come," he said;
"I warrant he'll be with us when he's wanted at the end,
For both his horse and he are mountain bred.
"He hails from Snowy River, up by Kosciusko's side,
Where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough,
Where a horse's hoofs strike firelight from the flint stones every stride,
The man that holds his own is good enough.
And the Snowy River riders on the mountains make their home,
Where the river runs those giant hills between;
I have seen full many horsemen since I first commenced to roam,
But nowhere yet such horsemen have I seen."
So he went - they found the horses by the big mimosa clump -
They raced away towards the mountain's brow,
And the old man gave his orders, "Boys, go at them from the jump,
No use to try for fancy riding now.
And, Clancy, you must wheel them, try and wheel them to the right.
Ride boldly, lad, and never fear the spills,
For never yet was rider that could keep the mob in sight,
If once they gain the shelter of those hills."
So Clancy rode to wheel them - he was racing on the wing
Where the best and boldest riders take their place,
And he raced his stockhorse past them, and he made the ranges ring
With the stockwhip, as he met them face to face.
Then they halted for a moment, while he swung the dreaded lash,
But they saw their well-loved mountain full in view,
And they charged beneath the stockwhip with a sharp and sudden dash,
And off into the mountain scrub they flew.
Then fast the horsemen followed, where the gorges deep and black
Resounded to the thunder of their tread,
And the stockwhips woke the echoes, and they fiercely answered back
From cliffs and crags that beetled overhead.
And upward, ever upward, the wild horses held their way,
Where mountain ash and kurrajong grew wide;
And the old man muttered fiercely, "We may bid the mob good day,
No man can hold them down the other side."
When they reached the mountain's summit, even Clancy took a pull,
It well might make the boldest hold their breath,
The wild hop scrub grew thickly, and the hidden ground was full
Of wombat holes, and any slip was death.
But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head,
And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer,
And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed,
While the others stood and watched in very fear.
He sent the flint stones flying, but the pony kept his feet,
He cleared the fallen timber in his stride,
And the man from Snowy River never shifted in his seat -
It was grand to see that mountain horseman ride.
Through the stringybarks and saplings, on the rough and broken ground,
Down the hillside at a racing pace he went;
And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound,
At the bottom of that terrible descent.
He was right among the horses as they climbed the further hill,
And the watchers on the mountain standing mute,
Saw him ply the stockwhip fiercely, he was right among them still,
As he raced across the clearing in pursuit.
Then they lost him for a moment, where two mountain gullies met
In the ranges, but a final glimpse reveals
On a dim and distant hillside the wild horses racing yet,
With the man from Snowy River at their heels.
And he ran them single-handed till their sides were white with foam.
He followed like a bloodhound on their track,
Till they halted cowed and beaten, then he turned their heads for home,
And alone and unassisted brought them back.
But his hardy mountain pony he could scarcely raise a trot,
He was blood from hip to shoulder from the spur;
But his pluck was still undaunted, and his courage fiery hot,
For never yet was mountain horse a cur.
And down by Kosciusko, where the pine-clad ridges raise
Their torn and rugged battlements on high,
Where the air is clear as crystal, and the white stars fairly blaze
At midnight in the cold and frosty sky,
And where around The Overflow the reed beds sweep and sway
To the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide,
The man from Snowy River is a household word today,
And the stockmen tell the story of his ride.