Imagine life in Castlebar, in County Mayo, for the very young Jack Riley, who’d been born in 1841, before the Irish potato famine hit. His life was full. His parents were tailors and they kept some horses. In fact, it was said that Jack could ride before he could walk. On weekends and holidays, Jack visited his cousins in the idyllic countryside, with its rolling hills, verdant valleys and fields, stretching as far as the eye could see. And he listened in fascination to local myths and tall stories of adventure on the high seas. This awoke a love of good yarn in Jack, and a thirst for adventure that was to make his name famous, years later in Australia. The seed was sown.

This is the ballad of Jack Riley: the original man from Snowy River, the high-country horseman who encountered the seven horsemen of the apocalypse on his way to becoming an Australian legend.

Riding high and dancing low in pre-famine Ireland

Times of bounty and plentifulness

Riding high and dancing low

Times of acceptance and togetherness

Riding high and dancing low

Cousins and neighbours play in the moment care free of distinctions

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Things got worse for his neighbours and the people of County Mayo, and Jack became troubled. While Jack’s family eked out a living with their tailoring business, the famine was taking countless lives in horrendous circumstances. Jack started to question why he was well when so many people were starving to death around him. “Why am I surviving?” he thought, and his guilt was overwhelming. This made an indelible impression on him that he carried for most of his life. His thoughts took him down.

Death comes rolling in

Death and loss forever complicating

Death comes rolling in

Complicating Jack’s mind

Death comes rolling in

Death and loss forever complicating

Death comes rolling in

Breaks Jack open to his question:

Why am I surviving?

 He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Snowy River Massacre

The situation was dire. Bodies lay in barren fields, in the streets, in the town. The famine was heartless. It was destroyed with impunity. Jack saw unbelievable suffering that he never forgot. The heartrending cries of those dying of starvation seared into his soul. Some were sent abroad to the New World (America), Canada, and Australia if they were able to travel. Those barely alive besieged the doors of the poor houses, wanting a place to die where they might be buried in a coffin. They were little more than terrified, shivering skeletons, and there was no hope of food, for the funds had dried up. He saw people expire.

Death comes rolling in

It feels like death to Jack

Death comes rolling in

Surviving how?

Death comes rolling in

Jack feels like the walking dead

Death comes rolling in

Surviving for what?

Death comes rolling in No purpose to assume

Death comes rolling in

Surviving with whom?

Death comes rolling in

Cousins and friends are gone.

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Milly, Brodribb River Massacre

The Slaughterhouse Massacre

The Rodney had sailed from County Cork to Southampton, to take on more passengers. Then it sailed down the west coast of Africa, around Cape Horn, and through the Roaring Forties. Nothing had prepared Jack for the rough voyage, the rough sailors or the rough and tough captain. The ship pitched wildly through massive seas around Cape Horn. Jack was terrified more times than he could remember, thinking each moment might be his last. The food was terrible. The other passengers were ill, and scared. Jack’s tiny straw bunk bed was in steerage – below the waterline – without light or ventilation, and hygiene was poor. But Jack was nothing if not resourceful, his Irish spirit keeping him from giving up. After almost 12 weeks, the Rodney sailed into Sydney Harbour. But it was tough.

Waves of reality come crashing in

Waves crashing in

Waves of reality come crashing in

Testing hope in false hopes

Waves of reality come crashing in

No resting in the hull

Waves of reality come crashing in

No ma and da to protect Jack from bullying villains

Waves of reality come crashing in

No sunlight either

Waves of reality come crashing in

Waves keep crashing in

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

For those who travelled to Australia in the nineteenth century, the journey was often long and dangerous. Life at sea was uncomfortable and often hazardous, particularly for passengers who travelled cheaply in steerage (the lowest deck and below the waterline). Storms were common in the Southern Ocean, but they were not the only danger. Hygiene was poor at the best of times and worse in bad weather. ‘Batten-down the hatches’ meant passengers on the lowest deck were confined without ventilation or light in conditions that were ideal for the spread of disease. The use of candles or oil lanterns was restricted and sometimes forbidden – cramped conditions with timber, straw mattresses, hemp (rope), and tar caulking meant a fire could spread with terrifying speed. A disaster at sea or shipwreck on the coast left little hope for rescue – few sailors or passengers could swim, and there were rarely enough lifeboats for the numbers on board.

Jack and the other passengers were ferried to the shore in small boats. Jack was astounded by the dryness of the land, the blue sky, the heat, and the flies. It all looked so strange to him. But after his voyage, he was thankful to be in the fresh air. He had to find his sister, who was in Berrima, 85 miles away. Ever resourceful, Jack set off for Berrima, thankfully sleeping in beds above ground, but facing nights plagued with mosquitoes. Days later he arrived at his sister’s place, where she lived with her husband, Joseph Jones. They’d married in 1950. By the time Jack reached Berrima, he was sunburnt, sore and stiff – but ready to embrace his new life.

Waves of reality come crashing in

Testing time

Waves of reality come crashing in

Testing hope against hope

Waves of reality come crashing in

Jack wonders: Am I pretending?

Waves of reality come crashing in

Dark people, Dry land sunburnt skin

Waves of reality come crashing in

Walking to Berrima, hitching a ride

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Jack soon discovered that the church, which always cared for the poor, was frequented by Australians who were doing it tough. However, Jack had no time for those who were down on their luck. People on their way to church passed by a poor man begging. Jack held his head high and averted his eyes. He was disidentified with the suffering of others as a defence against owning his trauma. He looked down on those facing hardship. To Jack, there was no such thing as love thy neighbour. The poor were in a class of their own, and they were harshly judged by those who considered themselves better. Although Jack had seen unspeakable suffering, he did not allow himself to feel bad for the man who was begging. And he was puzzled by the generosity of the local priest towards that man, and to others like him.

Waves of reality come crashing in

Beggars don’t pretend

Waves of reality come crashing in

The begging-drunk is not pretending

Waves of reality come crashing in

The beggar is grounded

Waves of reality come crashing in

Confronting Jack on his way to church

Waves of reality come crashing in

Drawing out Jack’s pretending

Waves of reality come crashing in

Jack’s chin goes up, Jack’s arse is tight

Waves of reality come crashing in

Jack’s hand is raised to halt the confronting energy from the ground; the Top Hat tilts up and back

And so Jack encounters the third horseman of the apocalypse: arrogance

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Jack’s sister and her husband, Joseph Jones, had two little girls, Maria and Louisa. They were Jack’s first nieces and he was devoted to them. When Joseph Jones died, Mary Anne, Maria, Louisa, and Jack moved to Omeo, where Jack supported them through a tailoring business. His exacting work and flair for the tailored fashions of the day, as well as his immaculate dress, earned him many taunts by the locals. They gathered outside, laughing, pointing at him, and jeering. Finally, Jack had enough and decided to teach a particularly nasty man a lesson.

Waves of reality keep crashing in

Taunting locals

Waves of reality keep crashing in

Spoil the delusion of safety at home

Waves of reality keep crashing in

Breaking through the well-dressed façade

Waves of reality keep crashing in

Then Jack erupts in fury

Waves of reality keep crashing in

All pretence and façade soon to vanish

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

In the 1850s, Omeo was a gold mining town on the Eastern side of the Alps. It was a place for high country stockmen to get supplies and have a bed, beer, and breakfast at The Golden Age Hotel. Jack’s tailoring shop was opposite the Golden Age Hotel.

He threw the first punch and knocked that mocking man to the ground, to the astonishment of those looking on. Punch after punch he rained upon his protagonist, and the fight drew a crowd, in typical Aussie fashion. They watched the underdog take his revenge, regardless of his tailored clothes. Jack was in fine fighting form. He’d gone through unbelievable horrors, and the fight was cathartic. Dishevelled and rumpled, Jack rained blows on his opponent in a fierce onslaught, his honour at stake.

Waves of reality keep crashing in

Breaching Jacks defences

Waves of reality keep crashing in

Years of pent-up anger released

Waves of reality keep crashing in

Strangely soothing

Waves of reality keep crashing in

Jolting erupting fist of fury from a conflict once buried and forgotten

Waves of reality keep crashing in

Jolting erupting fist of fury from a sense of sadness and loss long forgotten

Waves of reality keep crashing in

Now that forgotten thing is a clear and present danger to Jack and to others yet surprisingly invigorating and assuring.

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

By now the crowd had swelled. People could not believe that tailor Jack had such a fighting spirit. They loved seeing him give that jeering, taunting man his just desserts. Eventually, Jack knocked him down and, to add insult to injury, rained blows upon his face. The crowd was amazed. In front of their eyes, pint-sized Jack had acquitted himself against a much taller man, fighting for his rights. Little did Jack know that proving himself like this was going to be a turning point of his acceptance by the locals.

Drawing in the crowd 

Mesmerised by the show of raw emotion

Drawing in the crowd

Fight! Fight! Fight! they chant

Drawing in the crowd

The fight frees them from their deadening veneer of civility

Drawing in the crowd

A living moment of truth breaking through each individual’s comfort zone hitherto held onto so proudly.

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

But Jack was nothing if not a gentleman. Extending his hand to his opponent, he gracefully helped him up, and they bonded after their fight. No more taunts. No more jeering and laughing. Jack cemented himself with the locals through his courage and fighting spirit. They were amazed that he took down his opponent with such bravery and with no regard for his own fine clothes. In fact, Jack’s clothes were torn and dirty, but his spirit soared. During the weeks that followed that fight, his tailoring business increased dramatically. And the respect he earned initiated him into Australian society – the society of mateship.

Resetting; Jack extends his hand in friendship

Civility returns

Resetting; the spectators resume their familiar roles

Blending back into conformity and anonymity

Resetting; the fight serves as a

Rite of Passage to mateship and belonging

Jack is now a local

Resetting; everyone returns to normality and civility

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Jack and his mates used to ride into the bush and set up tents made of tarpaulin. Then they’d sit around a campfire, boiling the billy. And yarning. Telling tall tales. Jack had plenty of those. He prefaced them all with “See here, now”. And he did that for the rest of his life. He told them about his early life, the famine, and the trip out. This way of life suited Jack to a t. The bush with its gum trees, rippling streams and ferns tugged at his heart.  He felt completely at home.

Speaking shit, keeping the vibe going

Mateship reigns supreme

Speaking shit, keeping the vibe going

Never let the truth stand in the way of a good story

Speaking shit, keeping the vibe going

The Irish blarney is set free

Speaking shit, keeping the vibe going

Jack finds his voice over a rum or two

Speaking shit, keeping the vibe going

Careful not to offend, deleting facts

Speaking shit, keeping the vibe going

Getting drawn into the clique

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Once when Jack was camping out with his mates, he was startled when an aboriginal appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. A bit like the scene in Crocodile Dundee where David Gulpilil appears. His body and face were covered in stripes of ash. He carried a spear, but he wasn’t threatening. He seemed to be wondering what Jack and his mates were doing there – just observing them. His mates reassured Jack that all was well and there was nothing to fear. The aboriginal disappeared silently into the bush. But it left Jack wondering who these aborigines were.

Emerging out of the earth comes this original man

Not speaking shit

Emerging out of the earth comes this original man

Someone real, not part of the clique

Emerging out of the earth comes this original man

Spooking Jack

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Jack’s interest in aboriginals was piqued. The man had appeared so quietly and seemed to just melt away into the bush. It was obvious that he knew it like the back of his hand. The encounter kept Jack wondering. He wondered how aboriginals lived. Where they lived. And why the one he encountered seemed to know the bush so intimately. Jack’s mates didn’t share his interest. They’d seen aboriginals many times, and they didn’t ask questions about their history or their treatment.

Emerging out of the earth comes this original man

Awakening a sense of mystery, mystery long forgotten

Emerging out of the earth comes this original man

The original man piqued Jack’s interest in the land

Emerging out of the earth comes this original man

Touching something deep inside

Emerging out of the earth comes this original man

Once forgotten, mystery is now strangely familiar

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

After his sister remarried again, Jack left tailoring to pursue the life of a bushman and stockman. He had loved horses ever since he was a tiny lad in Ireland. He had an affinity with them, and horses became a big part of his life. He worked in the Monaro district for the Prendergast and Freebody families, and at a station near the border of New South Wales and Victoria. He quickly became known as a mountain rider, horse-breaker, bushman and tracker of wild horses.

Emerging out of the earth comes this original man

Resisting life on the land became impossible for Jack

Emerging out of the earth comes this original man

He is finding himself mustering horses for the squattocracy with his mates.

Emerging out of the earth comes this original man

The lure of the Australian high country appeared to nurture his soul while the binge drinking with mates intoxicated his body

And so Jack encountered the fourth and fifth horsemen of the apocalypse: anxiously seeking social approval and drug addiction.

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Duffy Land Act 1862

The Indian Remount market involved supplying horses from ports like Bega in NSW to the British Army in India and was serviced by wild horses from the Australian Alps. In the Irish Catholic communities, from Cooma and the Monaro High Plains in New South Wales to Omeo in Victoria, horse rustling was rife in the supply of this type of market. This stretch of Australia was on the Eastern side of the Australian Alps. While the wild horses, brumbies, might be roaming on unattended and neglected 20,000-acre lease runs, technically, taking these horses was theft. In the 1850s and 1860s, Australia was a sectarian society. However, in general, the division was between the landowners, “the haves”, and the workers on the land, “have-nots”.

One of his exploits was to chase a thoroughbred down a steep mountainside, where his mates dared not follow. Jack’s horse carried him through scrub and tree branches, which blinded Jack while he was pelting down the mountain. In fact, he didn’t even know the thoroughbred had raced into the holding yard until he could see. His face and arms were cut from the branches, and his horse was bleeding from cuts. But he caught that thoroughbred, and that became the basis for Banjo Patterson’s “The Man from Snowy River”, many years later.

Taking that reckless leap of faith

Jumping into the wild

Taking that reckless leap of faith

A reckless quest to contact mystery again or get high

Taking that reckless leap of faith

Jack was out of control either way

Taking that reckless leap of faith

Seeking something more or acting out some unresolved conflict in extreme risk tasking

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Then Jack started mustering horses with his mates – marginalised Irish Catholics from the Cooma, Alps and Monaro Plains region –  and felt a sense of freedom and belonging that was unlike anything he’d experienced before. But belonging came at a price. His desire to conform with his group of new mates led Jack to become involved in illegal activities. Soon he was horse rustling, driving stolen horses across the high country and into yards, where they could be sold on to the Indian Remount market. But his days of horse theft came to an abrupt end when the police caught him red-handed with some stolen horses. The force of the law was feared by the horse thieves, and they did their utmost to avoid being caught. The police were very tough on Jack. They sentenced him to gaol. But the thought of being locked up after the freedom he’d enjoyed pulled Jack up with a big mental jolt. He felt hardly done by and became very depressed as the tormenting questions came back to haunt him.

Living on the edge has its price

For the marginalised or not

Living on the edge has its price

It all catches up one day

Living on the edge has its price

Jack gets nicked

Living on the edge has its price

Nonetheless, Jack is shocked

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Notable bushrangers of 1851-1870 era Captain Melville; Rocky Whelan; Frank Gardiner; Johnny Gilbert; Ben Hall; Captain Thunderbolt; Daniel Morgan; Harry Power

His time in prison was horrible for Jack. He was full of self-loathing. He remembered the traumatic times of the potato famine, with people suffering and dying, and the difficulties he had on the trip out to Australia. Jack became withdrawn and self-pitying. Years ago, he questioned, “Why am I surviving?” during the famine. Now he asked, “Why me?” He did not tell on his mates but took all the blame for stealing horses himself. In his striped prison garb, he made a sad and pathetic figure.

Soul searching

No grog and no mates to get high with

Soul searching

No wild, risky riding to release tension

Soul searching

Everything outside is still

Soul searching

Inside all is agitating, body and soul in conflict

And so Jack encounters the sixth horseman of the apocalypse: theft.

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Notable bushrangers of the 1871-1902 era Captain Midnight; Andrew George Scott; Ned Kelly; Johnny Campbell; Paddy Kenniff; Jimmy Governor

One day, a priest visited and gave him hope and a way to find peace. The priest encouraged Jack to follow a better path – to live a life in which crime played no part. He helped Jack realize that the choice he made to fall in with horse thieves was his responsibility. If he made himself accountable, repented, and changed his ways, then God’s forgiveness would be his. Jack felt relief and a renewed spirit. He knew in his heart that this was what he needed to hear. It set him on a straight course, and when he was released from gaol, he determined to live by his faith in God’s mercy. He felt freed from the compulsive need for social acceptance by the ‘mates’ that had been a bad influence on him

Finding a way out of one life into another.

Now, what is a priest?

Finding a way out of one life into another.

What is his value?

Finding a way out of one life into another.

Jack reconnects with the church

Finding a way out of one life into another.

Jack reconnects with his soul

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Jack began to look deep inside to find solitude and peace of mind, self-acceptance and mindfulness. And he continued with his quest to live with the open question, why am I surviving ? which had haunted him from childhood. He became a reliable stockman, spending much of each year in the beautiful high country, around the Snowy River, and the Victorian and New South Wales border near Tom Groggin. When he needed supplies, he’d head for Omeo, and catch up with his mates, his sister, now at Cassilis, over 10 miles from Omeo, and her children. And of course, being a master storyteller, Jack spun yarns.“See here, now”, he’d start. And his nephews and nieces would listen to him with wonder in their eyes, and his sister would hang on every word. Jack was a hero to them, and they relished every one of his visits.

The stilling yet the disturbing question remains

Communing with the Australian high country in solitude, Jack finds peace of mind and self-respect

The stilling yet the disturbing question remains

While communing with the Australian high country, the open question:‘why am I surviving’? is no longer overwhelming but rather a foundation for contemplation, wonder and awe.

And so Jack encounters the seventh horseman of the apocalypse: treating isolation and the delusion of not needing others as a comfort zone

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Ned Kelly hung in 1880 in Melbourne, marking the end of the bushranger period, 1835 -1880. Jack Riley lives at Tom Groggin 1884 -1914 While Ned Kelly took a violent road to deal with oppression, Jack Riley decided to go the way of peace and lived the last 30 years of his life at Tom Groggin cattle run after jail from 1884. ‘Tom Groggin’ is a transliteration of an old Aboriginal word, ‘tomarogin’, that referred to a water spider that lived in the upper reaches of the Murray River

By this time, Jack was 43, and his reputation as a fearless and dashing rider scored him a job as a stockman and caretaker for John Pierce, supervising cattle in the high country. The Pierce family owned and held leases (cattle runs)of 20,000 acres of land, one being at Tom Groggin, west of the main range of the Snowy Mountains. There he lived for the next thirty years. Jack loved the lifestyle and the country. His knowledge of the area was prodigious, and he was well known. He lived in a simple timber hut in the high country. One day, the aboriginal he met years ago reappeared. He told Jack about how his people had been killed and wounded by the white people.

Breaking into Jack’s comfort zone

Suddenly a different communion breaks into Jack’s space

Breaking into

Jack’s comfort zone Jack is confronted by difference again

Breaking into Jack’s comfort zone

However, this time Jack is more open and receptive to difference.

Breaking into Jack’s comfort zone

Jack is more open to the original man

Breaking into Jack’s comfort zone

More open to 70,000 years of experience of this land, Australia.

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He led Jack along a path down from the Snowy Mountains, alongside a river fed by the snow. He felt instinctively that Jack was different. That he was compassionate. And that he had suffered too. Jack trusted his companion and wanted to see for himself what terrible things had been done to his people. A Wedge-Tailed Eagle was circling overhead as like it was protecting and blessing the pair on their long journey to the aboriginal settlement. Jack discovered a new type of mateship, one that was free of compulsions to please.  One based on something deeper and calmer.

Following the original man down the mountain

Jack descends into the original man’s soul

Following the original man down the mountain

Jack descends into his own soul

Following the original man down the mountain

Jack descends into an open space in his mind, a space for God

Following the original man down the mountain

Jack descends into his transcendent open question again: Why am I surviving?

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

It was slow going, even downhill. Jack and his aboriginal guide kept to the long, winding path that was narrow in parts and in danger of rockfalls in others. And always overhead, the eagle kept circling, watching and crying its series of high-pitched notes. The guide was a man of few words, and Jack walked with him, silently, watching and trying to prepare himself for what lay ahead. As the guide walked down the path, he seemed attentive to the elements and attuned to the earth. Eventually, after following the path far down from the Snowy Mountains, and crossing the river in parts, Jack and his aboriginal guide arrived at what had once been a happy settlement.

Following the original man even further down the mountain

Jack became mindful of his attentiveness to the immediate environment

Following the original man even further down the mountain

Jack became mindful of his presence of mind

Following the original man even further down the mountain

Jack became one and equal with the original man

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Jack was faced with a truly terrible scene. European colonists on horseback had shot and killed most of the aboriginals, and many were badly wounded and dying. Blood ran red on the red earth. Mothers cradled their dying children, tears running down their cheeks. Everywhere was sorrow, horror and untold misery. The white men were merciless, massacring these innocent indigenous people to get them off their land so they could steal that land for themselves. In an instant, years of fighting his mind caved in as the scene opened the demons in Jack’s mind, breaching his defences, and it seemed that he’d never escape his past.

Arriving as one at the massacre scene

The two are equal and of one origin

Arriving as one at the massacre scene

Jack and the original man are one

Arriving as one at the massacre scene

The two are equal and of one origin

Arriving as one at the massacre scene

Common suffering bonds them deeply

Arriving as one at the massacre scene

Common oppression binds them as “have nots” against “the haves”, the squattocracy.

Arriving as one at the massacre scene

They are in solidarity for a just cause

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Hospital Creek, Brewarinna

Jack returned to his mountain home. There he considered all that he’d seen, from his early years in Ireland and the famine, to the massacre of the aboriginals so their land could be stolen. Jack spent many hours deep in thought, by his campfire, accompanied by his trusty steed, his dog and a nip or two of whisky. He made the decision to be compassionate and non-judgmental to others, to help where he could, to live a life that was honest and open. It was an epiphany. He saw that by being open-minded and never judgemental, he could be a positive influence. It was as if the demons poured out of his mind and into the ether. He felt free and filled with the Spirit of a merciful God.

Contemplating, Jack sits beside the Snowy River

Now Jack is one with the original man

Contemplating, Jack sits beside the Snowy River

Jack is the original man now

Contemplating, Jack sits beside the Snowy River

Jack is the original man from Snowy River

Contemplating, Jack sits beside the Snowy River

Jack rides with the message stick like a baton from the original man

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

When Andrew Barton ‘Banjo’ Paterson was just five years old, his father lost his wool clip in a flood and was forced to sell up. His family took over an uncle’s farm near Yass. Banjo was forever bonded with those less fortunate because of his family’s tragedy. The young Banjo saw Cobb and Co coaches and drovers. And he also saw horsemen from the Murrumbidgee River and the Snowy Mountains country. His fondness for horses and the high country inspired his writing. Banjo was a solicitor in Sydney in the late 1880s, and he penned many well-known poems and the song Waltzing Matilda, which was for years the Australian National Anthem.

Banjo lost everything too as a child

Banjo’s family lost everything in a flood

Banjo lost everything too as a child

The wool clip lost in a flood

Banjo lost everything too as a child

Banjo learnt to see the selectors’ plight

Banjo lost everything too as a child

Banjo saw the way of the “have nots”

Banjo lost everything too as a child

He is in solidarity with the underdog for a just cause

Banjo lost everything too as a child

Banjo, lawyer, journalist and poet was for the selectors seeking justice and survival on the land.

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

In the summer of 1889 to 1890, Banjo visited two brothers on an Upper Murray property. The Mitchell brothers, with whom he’d gone to King’s College in Sydney, took Banjo up into the mountains, passing through Tom Groggin, where they stayed the night with Jack. Round the campfire, they shared a bottle of whisky. Then Jack began to regale them with some of his exploits as a stockman in the high country.  “See here, now”. He told them of the time he chased the thoroughbred down the mountain, through thick scrub and tree branches that almost blinded him. Banjo was fascinated, and his mind saw a story in this. Three months after meeting Jack, he published “The Man from Snowy River” in Sydney’s Bulletin, showing the triumph of the underdog over the expectations and prejudices of others.

Handing the message stick from the original man to Banjo

The Irish blarney returns

Handing the message stick from the original man to Banjo

It returns with a new message

Handing the message stick from the original man to Banjo

A message of recognition for the underdog

Handing the message stick from the original man to Banjo

Heralding the emerging egalitarian Australian identity

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Jack lived a solitary life in his simple hut in the Snowy Mountains. As well as his work, he was also a guide to those who required his services, and he welcomed visitors. Even those tourists who earlier eschewed his offer of help in their travels, but then came to grief because their compass let them down, encountered nothing but goodwill and hospitality from Jack. He became a legendary figure in the bush, lauded for his generous and hospitable nature. And a glass of whisky was never far away. The years rolled on, and on. Jack was no longer young and agile. His hard life, and the burden of his constant questioning, took their toll.

Strangely the question seemed to die

Jack was less troubled now by the open question: Why am I surviving?

Strangely the question seemed to die

Having handed the message stick to Banjo

Strangely the question seemed to die

Released from his mission for Australia

Strangely the question seemed to die

Jack had this pervasive sense of mission accomplished

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

In 1911, Jack was 70. He’d had a hard life, but a good one, in his beloved Snowy Mountain hut at Tom Groggin. But he continued to search for the answers to his questions about being spared during the Irish famine. Jack became very ill, and it was feared by those who knew him that his end was nigh. He was taken to the Station House at Khancoban in New South Wales, where he lay in bed. The priest, Father Patrick Joseph Hartigan, was summoned, to give Jack his Last Rites.

Waiting in silence

While his mates chatter next door

Waiting in silence

While a horseless carriage pulls up

Waiting in silence

While questions return, filling in the space

Waiting in silence

While he waits to reconnect with the church before he passes

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Father Hartigan arrived in his early model Peugeot. He was one of the first curates in the state to have a car. As he went in to give Jack the Last Rites, Jack asked him why he’d been spared during the terrible potato famine in Ireland. Father Hartigan encouraged Jack to find meaning in his life through faith in a merciful God. He realised then that he’d been on a journey to help and benefit others – the Australian people. He was spared because it was his destiny to live here in Australia and to show kindness and compassion to others, and create an emblematic pathway of peace, forgiveness and mateship. Jack was touched. The Last Rites over, he went on to improve, and before long, he was back in his beloved Snowy Mountains hut.

The returning priest comes to bless Jack’s final ride

Jack is filled with the knowledge of the love of a forgiving God

The returning priest comes to bless Jack’s final ride

Jack is filled with peace of mind

The returning priest comes to bless Jack’s final ride

Jack’s questions no longer

The returning priest comes to bless Jack’s final ride

Jack is one with his church, his country and himself

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

But several years later, in the freezing winter of 1914, word got out by his mates that Jack was seriously ill. A guide and four of Jack’s friends arrived at Jack’s hut with equipment and a stretcher, to take Jack to the Corryong Hospital. Jack was frail and very ill, and after he was strapped onto the stretcher, they began the slow and taxing journey on foot to Corryong. For several miles they made good time. But when they had to climb out of the gorge and over the shoulder of Hermit Hill, ascending over 2,000 feet, the stretcher could not be used. So they put Jack on a horse, with the lightest of his friends sitting behind him to hold him steady. Friends took each side to support a barely conscious Jack, while the snow began to fall and bitter cold enveloped them.

Surrendering to time

Jack’s body is surrendering to time

Surrendering to time

Jack’s mates carry him down

Surrendering to time

Warm mateship in the freezing cold

Surrendering to time

The end is nigh for the legend of the Upper Murray

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

Then they put Jack back on the stretcher and carried him to Surveyor’s Creek Junction, where they sheltered in a deserted mining hut and lit a fire to warm him. His friends made Jack as comfortable as possible, and he seemed to rally a little. They held out hope that help would come in the morning and Jack could get hospital care. But that wasn’t to be. After speaking to his friends, his amazing friends, who without question, travelled through the rugged country in the middle of winter to bring Jack to Corryong, Jack leaned a little towards the fire, and said, “I am cold”. Then his heart gave out. He died in the part of the world he loved, with the rain on the roof, the wind in the trees, surrounded by his friends. The Man from Snowy River went on his last, most important, ride.

Giving up his soul

‘Round the fire

Giving up his soul

Jack is with his mates

Giving up his soul

Jack final words: I am cold

Giving up his soul

Jack falls to the earth as his soul ascends

He rides for you, and he rides for me

He rides for you, and he rides for me

In incubation since 1788 through the tyranny of distance, the uniquely Australian culture and identity of egalitarianism engaged the world en masse through WW1 in 1914. In 1914, Jack Riley died having accomplished his mission.