What is waltzing matilda

In a radio interview in , Banjo Paterson said, "The shearers staged a strike by way of expressing themselves, and Macpherson's woolshed was burnt down, and a man was picked up dead". There was also a story doing the rounds at that time about a police posse on the lookout for Harry Wood, a man accused of beating an Aboriginal boy to death.

They didn't find Harry. But they did come across a hapless swagman camped by a billabong possibly the Como billabong who took fright at the sight of the approaching police and jumped into the billabong and drowned.

While at the station, Banjo frequently heard Christina play a tune on her zither sometimes called an autoharp. Banjo liked the " whimsicality and dreaminess " of the tune and thought it would be nice to set some words to it.

Click on the image to hear the Waltzing Matilda tune being played in a Zither Autoharp. Banjo, a lawyer by trade and a journalist by profession, was also an Banjo, a lawyer by trade and a journalist by profession, was also an accomplished poet. So, naturally, he would have stored away a wealth of knowledge, stories, and other titbits about life in the outback and the people who lived there.

When the opportunity came, he quickly pieced together a "case" - a story to produce a light-hearted ditty as part of an evening's entertainment. So it appears that Banjo linked up all these events to create the storyline and the lyrics for the song.

Christina played the tune on her zither and wrote the musical score. In the same radio interview in , Banjo goes on to say " Miss Macpherson used to play a little Scottish tune on a zither and I put words to it and called it 'Waltzing Matilda'. Soon after, it was sung for the first time by Herbert Ramsay , who lived at Oondooroo Station close by and was one of the best tenors in the district.

Click on the image to hear Waltzing Matilda with its original words and music. The song spread rapidly throughout the district by word of mouth and was an instant hit. The story of Waltzing Matilda didn't end with Banjo Paterson and Christina Macpherson writing the song and gaining popularity as a bush ballad in the Australian outback.

In this bundle were the lyrics for Waltzing Matilda. They were in search of a catchy tune to promote their tea. Waltzing Matilda, they thought, with a little improvement, would be just perfect. Fortunately, Marie had heard the original musical tune composed by Christina McPherson. So she set about recomposing the tune by changing some of the lyrics to fit the melody better. The sheet music and lyrics were then printed and wrapped around containers of Billy Tea and as a promotional gimmick.

It wasn't long before the song gained widespread popularity. This version of the song, known as the Marie Cowan version, is the one we hear today. It was sung boisterously by Australian soldiers and picked up by troops of other nationalities such as the British and Americans.

Before long, it was known throughout the world even though, in most instances, those singing it had no idea where the song originated. For over a century now, it has been a favourite with Australian troops whenever they travel overseas. Waltzing Matilda is one of those rare songs that hasn't aged. It has been with us for over a century and is still popular today. It is frequently used in major public events.

Some say that more Australians know the words to this song than possibly even their national anthem. The first known recording of the song was made in in London, England by a singer named John Collinson. The recording is barely two minutes long. It almost seems like the singer was rushing through the song to make sure it all fitted in the old-fashioned wax recording disc, which only had a recording capacity of about two and a half minutes.

While it can be recognized as Waltzing Matilda, it is interesting to note that this version is different from the one we are familiar with today. There is a subtle but noticeable difference in the melody. A folk song, the song has been referred to as "the unofficial national anthem of Australia". The title is Australian slang for travelling by foot with one's belongings in a "Matilda" slung over one's back.

The song narrates the story of an itinerant worker, or "swagman", making a drink of tea at a bush camp and capturing a sheep to eat.

When the sheep's owner arrives with three police officers to arrest the worker for the theft, the worker commits suicide by drowning himself in the nearby watering hole, after which his ghost haunts the site. The original lyrics were written in by poet and nationalist Banjo Paterson. It was first published as sheet music in Extensive folklore surrounds the song and the process of its creation, to the extent that the song has its own museum, the Waltzing Matilda Centre in Winton, Queensland.

In , to remind Australians of the song's significance, Winton organised the inaugural Waltzing Matilda Day to be held on 6 April, the anniversary of its first performance. The song was first recorded in as performed by John Collinson and Russell Callow. The numerical value of waltzing matilda in Chaldean Numerology is: 3. The numerical value of waltzing matilda in Pythagorean Numerology is: 1. We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.

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Term » Definition. Word in Definition. Freebase 0. Are you people hearing this? How jolly was this swagman, truly? Who gets busted in a dine and bolt, and goes on to pull a Harold Holt? The thought of him lingering by this little lake was enough to make me hide behind the couch same place I hid from the dreaded Dingle Dangle Scarecrow.

Once, when driving myself and a van load of relatives through the bush outside Narrogin, Western Australia, my mum got lost and stopped to ask directions. He approached the van slowly, gripping the hilt of his axe. Dacks were indeed cacked. But this fear of the swagman was not merely one of beards and campfires and the inky black of the outback sky. I was an only child with a large extended family and a mother who spent her free time caring for the elderly, so a fair chunk of my youth was spent at RSLs, bowls clubs, or crammed in the back of a van full of pensioners.

I grew up surrounded by conversations of a mythic Australia that had long passed: one of lean-tos and shearing sheds, wharfie work yarns and wartime jiltings, steer castrations and suicides by drowning. I would look at these old men with leathery faces stretched mask-like over the tawny crags and divots of their tucked away traumas and I would feel afraid and alien. A porcelain skinned sook with a stuffed velociraptor tucked under one arm, their talk of hard yakka, hard fighting and hard drinking never appealed to me.