FOLLOWED THE PLOUGH
Explanatory introduction
I first heard the expression, ‘Never followed the plough’ many years ago when the senior executive position in the organisation I worked for was awarded to an academic from New Guinea. A senior officer on hearing the announcement asked the retiring executive officer what he thought of the appointment to which he replied, “He’s never followed the plough.”
Initially the title of this poem was to be, ‘They’ve never followed the plough’ which is an extension of the ‘Peter Principle.’ The Peter Principle explains that when an individual is performing in a role superior to his/her capabilities and experience they rise to the level of their own incompetence. They’ve never followed the plough appears to me to be a bush extension of this expression.
Verses four, five and six explain the true meaning of this saying.
I am of the view that the expression originated many years ago when large cattle properties were owned by English Lords and in some instances managed by people who did not possess the necessary experience to fulfil that role. It was common for those absentee land owners to appoint young male relatives and sons of influential friends, first as “Jackaroos” and to positions then of overseer or head stockman without the necessary experience and then, in a relatively short period of time they were promoted to the position of station manager.
This infuriated seasoned and experienced head stockmen and station ringers, who were frustrated by the newcomers’ incompetence and inability to manage. In these instances productivity of that particular cattle property usually deteriorated.
Hence the saying “They’ve never followed the plough.”
However, I must remind readers that many of these young English migrants (both men and women) adapted to the harsh Australian environment and, with time and experience in the cattle and sheep industry became successful and competent managers and contributed much to our great nation.
The history of the First Fleet, The Fatal Shore, written by Robert Hughes along with1788 and Convict Colony by (David Hill), clearly show the contribution British convicts and free English emigrants made in the development of our great nation. After finalising the poem and reading through it several times I decided that the appropriate title should be, “Followed the plough.”
Laurie Pointing
FOLLOWED THE PLOUGH
Farewell to old England forever
Farewell to my rum culls as well
Farewell to the well known old Bailee
Where I used to cut such a swell.
Bound for Botany Bay - Charles Thatcher- 1850’s
The hulks and the jails had some thousands in store
But out of the jails there were ten thousand more
Who lived by fraud, cheating, vile tricks and foul play
And should all be transported to Botany Bay.
Traditional Song - 1790-modified
The very day they landed on the fatal shore
The soldiers stood around them full twenty score or more
They yoked them up like horses to make them understand
Then chained them up to pull the plough – to ‘till the virgin land.
Convict Ballard - 1825-modified
Today, there are tall buildings that shadow the skyline
While their wealthy owners will all tell us how
To govern and manage our nation
But there are few who have followed the plough.
Some are privileged and cherish their titles
In social circles they live in the now
A lifestyle befitting their custom
Never a thought of the horse-drawn plough.
Many have risen from land-owning gentry
Their advantage in life does allow
A position of power in head office
Far removed from the draft-horse and plough.
Mother England had a problem in the year of seventy nine
With prison-hulks infected with the worst of our mankind
They paraded all the convicts through Old Bailey’s criminal court
And restored the former beauty of the English seaside port.
The author of the project was Sir Joseph William Banks
An eminent trusted botanist of the upper English ranks
He had trod the soil and bushland on our shores at Botany Bay
When their ship- the Endeavour stayed awhile, then sailed away.
They came by sea nine hundred sailed away
From Portsmouth Harbour on the thirteenth day of May
A journey of eight months or more before their landing day
To start a Penal settlement on the shores of Botany Bay.
On the twenty-sixth day of January, 1788
They sailed through Port Jackson’s narrow harbour gate
History in the making, white settlement here to stay
Our thoughts and prayers now mark our first Australia Day.
Phillip raised the Queen Anne flag upon the harbour shore
No white-man’s feet; on Port Jackson sand had ever stood before
Then Captain Phillip claimed Australia, for the King and for the Crown
“We’ll build a village on this land; we’ll name it Sydney town.”
They disembarked their human cargo, those sickly human wrecks
From the hulks and crowded prisons, transported under decks
Months were spent in squalid space; on those British transport ships
Those that died were cast aside as their last breath passed their lips.
No shelter was provided from the sun and from the heat
They camped in tents on hard bare ground with little food to eat
Their heads and clothes were filthy-their bodies scarred from lice
They were starved and under-nourished - no strength to stand and fight.
Hard labour and the lash was the order of the day
And daily flogging meted out if they dared to disobey
Traditional owners watched in awe from the silence of the bush
While convict gangs just slaved each day until the evening push.
There was not one there amongst them who had milked a jersey cow
Or worked a farm or ever seen a Berkshire boar or sow
Those wretched souls; exhausted, while sweat dripped from their brow
Were yarded up like bullocks to snig the single furrow plough.
They built their prisons, tilled the soil to grow their basic food
With garden hoes and garden rakes their methods were quite crude
The crosscut saw and felling axe saw the forest trees brought down
While convict labour built the roads around old Sydney town.
Wheel-barrow-carts-carriages were the first of transport fleets
And mallets, picks and shovels were tools to build their streets
Pit saws and splitting wedges trimmed the hardwood logs
Those that fell and could not work were ridiculed and flogged.
They landed with their livestock and rabbits numbered five
In our warmer summer climate they quickly multiplied
Unloaded ducks and turkeys; fowls and chickens that had hatched
There was nothing when they landed; they started here from scratch.
Two racing blood line stallions and brood mares that numbered four
Were the pride of Captain Phillip on the day they came ashore
A bull calf and a herd bull and four grown breeder cows
Were landed by the convicts; but no horse to snig the plough.
Female convict labour fared no better than the men
Transported from their family homes and from their next of kin
They worked as cooks and maids and servants for the males
In Australia’s British Colony, now known as New South Wales.
Fourteen convict couples married; the first in wedded bliss
Gave thanks to the Almighty, sealed their marriage with a kiss
No honeymoon forthcoming, their work began at dawn
From this simple celebration, Australian sons were born.
Early agriculture in that sandy coastal soil
Saw their crops of wheat and barley fail to yield a crop each fall
The colony faced starvation after years of sweat and toil
Many wondered if old England gave them a thought at all.
Captain Arthur Phillip displayed a steady guiding hand
While serving as Commander in this unforgiving foreign land
He managed massive problems, and quelled the frequent row
Never wavered in his mission, had both hands upon the plough.
Governor Hunter followed Phillip, and then King and Bligh were our top brass
But encountered interference from some noted upper class
Lacked support they needed from their British peers at home
Neglected by the Government, by the King and by the Throne.
A corrupt explosive military plus a rebellious convict band
The overthrow of government and some threatening foreign lands
Cast a shadow of despondency throughout those early years
Near starvation in the Colony reduced four thousand souls to tears.
Twenty years of settlement saw little progress made by man
They explored the country northward, to the south where rivers ran
But Blue Mountain cliffs and gorges prevented access to the west
After twenty years exploring sadly gave those rugged mountains best.
Then Major General Macquarie took control of New South Wales
With orders from the Mother land, ‘Succeed where others failed.’
But he too found the Colony was staffed with wicked men
Who proffered by large liquor sales to those who lived in sin.
He improved the moral standards from the days of long gone by
And installed some trusted servants after the turbulent years of Bligh
Transformed the fledging colony from a prison camp of gloom
And his infrastructure spending caused old Sydney town to boom.
He overspent his budget, was reported to the Crown
And ignored the many sanctions from His Majesty’s Government clan
But a tragedy in England saw Lord Bathurst come to power
This saved Macquarie’s charter in his final darkened hour.
He defied the British system, thought their rules were far too harsh
He ignored his civic leaders, snubbed the British upper class
As the colony grew in stature, he favoured those who mattered most
And appointed former convict men, to important government posts.
Then Lawson, Blaxland, Wentworth explored a passage through the range
And noted how the landscape of the open country changed
They saw the rolling grass land and black soil beneath their feet
Brought a sense of jubilation, with no thoughts of past defeat.
A road surveyed from Sydney through that rugged mountain pass
Saw expansion of the colony, two decades now had passed
They named the Lachlan River, Bathurst Township soon took shape
A grateful Governor Macquarie thanked Lord Bathurst for his faith.
Free settlers arrived in thousands, staked their claims with sweat and toil
Drove their herds of sheep and cattle through the road to fertile soil
When Macquarie sailed from Sydney for his native Scottish home
Forty thousand people called our young Australia home.
Inscribed upon his headstone on the Scottish Isle of Mull
The words - ‘The Father of Australia’ that time has faded dull
Macquarie’s final resting place, his Australian tour well done
He left his mark on New South Wales, Australia’s finest son.
Today there are mansions that shadow the skyline
And Governor Macquarie was the first to show us how
To govern and manage our nation
While inspiring others to follow the plough.
Copyright
Laurie Pointing
Gympie – May, 2020
