The Wizard of Oz

‘Waltzing Matilda’ lyricist Andrew Barton ‘Banjo’ Paterson wrote a popular poem about an epic polo match that is still re-enacted today, writes Herbert Spencer

The lyrics for ‘Waltzing Matilda’, Australia’s ‘unofficial’ national anthem, came from the prolific pen of Aussie bush poet Andrew Barton ‘Banjo’ Paterson (1864-1941). Less well known by the general public but much loved by the polo fraternity Down Under is a poem Paterson penned in 1893, two years before ‘Waltzing Matilda’: ‘The Geebung Polo Club’.

In his time Paterson was considered second only in popularity to Rudyard Kipling among living poets writing in English. Although he spent most of his life in the city as a lawyer, journalist and scholar, his poetry was written in the idiom of the rough, tough life of the outback.

Born and raised in remote rural areas of New South Wales, Paterson spent his childhood watching hard-riding horsemen rounding up livestock, competing in country races and playing polo. He learned to ride and developed a lifelong love for horses that inspired much of his verse. His nickname came from his early publishing nom de plume, ‘The Banjo’, the name of a country racehorse owned by his father.

Paterson moved to Sydney to complete his education and became a lawyer, soldier, journalist and foreign correspondent, covering the Boer War and China just after the Boxer Rebellion. But his heart remained in the bush and his muse was the rugged up-country life of fellow Australians.

As an avid horseman, Banjo played polo at the Cooma Polo Club, was an amateur jockey in country races and rode to hounds with the Sydney Hunt Club. During World War I, after being wounded in the Middle East, he returned to duty as a major commanding the Australian Remount Squadron.

Banjo’s best-known works are ‘Waltzing Matilda’ and ‘The Man from Snowy River’, a heroic tale of a bush rider who goes after, and captures, a prize thoroughbred colt running in the hills with a mob of brumbies (wild horses). Paterson and the ‘Snowy River’ saga are memorialised on the face of today’s Australian $10 note, above.

‘The Geebung Polo Club’ is a fanciful tale that illustrated the difference between the two styles of polo prevalent in 19th-century Australia, that of rugged outback players and their more polished city cousins. This contrast is described in the first two verses of the poem, left.

The poem goes on to describe an epic encounter between the Geebung players and the Cuff and Collar boys, so fierce that ‘a spectator’s leg was broken – just from merely looking on…’ As the battle rages, one player after another killed with neither side gaining the advantage. With all the players dead or dying and the score tied, the Geebung captain ‘scrambled on his pony for his last expiring chance, For he meant to make an effort to get victory to his side; So he struck at goal – and missed it – then he tumbled off and died.’

‘The Geebung Polo Club’ concludes with ghosts of the Geebung and Cuff and Collar players, said to lie buried by the Campaspe River, frightening passing horsemen ‘Till the terrified spectator rides like blazes to the pub –He’s been haunted by the spectres of the Geebung Polo Club.’

Today, in the high-country town of Dinner Plain, Victoria, there is an annual Easter re-enactment of that legendary game. The ‘city slickers’ are dressed in proper polo kit, while the cattlemen’s team representing Geebung wear typical stockmen’s gear with blue jeans and wide-brimmed hats. Competition is fierce, but without the fatal consequences described in Banjo Paterson’s poem.

It was somewhere up the country, in a land of rock and scrub, That they formed an institution called the Geebung Polo Club. They were long and wiry natives from the rugged mountainside, And the horse was never saddled that the Geebungs couldn’t ride; But their style of playing polo was irregular and rash They had mighty little science, but a mighty lot of dash: And they played on mountain ponies that were muscular and strong, Though their coats were quite unpolished, and their manes and tails were long. And they used to train those ponies wheeling cattle in the scrub: They were demons, were the members of the Geebung Polo Club.

It was somewhere down the country, in a city’s smoke and steam, That a polo club existed, called ‘The Cuff and Collar Team’. As a social institution ‘twas a marvellous success, For the members were distinguished by exclusiveness and dress. They had natty little ponies that were nice, and smooth, and sleek, For their cultivated owners only rode ’em once a week. So they started up the country in pursuit of sport and fame, For they meant to show the Geebungs how they ought to play the game; And they took their valets with them - just to give their boots a rub Ere they started operations on the Geebung Polo Club.