Category: Changing Hemispheres Album

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Changing Hemispheres Album

01. Ayewis

Hughie Keatings (he always emphasised the ‘s’ on the end) born 1920 in Bridgeton, Glasgow, Scotland, died 1999 Perth WA, was a regular in the bar at The Rosemount Hotel in North Perth, where many daft times were enjoyed during the 1990s.

Backpackers and old-timers living upstairs, the Red Rose Café, sessions, bands in the beer garden, lots of Irish and all the gossip and intrigue that goes on in any community. Hughie took a ‘shine’ to me, sharing stories from his past and because we both enjoyed musical performance, we attended a variety of shows together. He even came to one of my performances – although he would have preferred me to sound like Lena Horne! Hugh was diagnosed with cancer in 1999 just before we left for a holiday in Scotland and died while we were away. “Ayewis” (Always/forever) was a word he often used and it had to be pronounced “Ayewiz”!

Ayewis sample
Ayewis – Lyrics

Yoo hoo, yoo hoo Hugh! yoo hoo, yoo hoo Hughie!
“Here’s ma wee hen, you are ma wee hen,
you and Patsy Macfarlane, yir baith ma wee hens, ayewis.”

Guiding partners round Glasgow’s halls
Were you a heart-throb, were you a chancer
Does some wifie somewhere sigh and recall,
“Mind yon big Hughie Keatings, he wis a braw dancer”.
Warm Sat’dy arvo, beer garden shimmy, we had the moves
Pursed lips, bumping hips, to Rick and his Hot Biscuits’, ‘Forever Young’

Weaving stories, I never thought lies,
“My Irish Granny passed her gift to me”
Reeled in by Highland muse, farseeing eyes,
“Rippling black hair like seaweed floating in the sea……..
Knocked doon in Brigton by the first motor car to come through!”
Wheezin’, gigglin’ fools, wrigglin’ on stools where the bar curves around

Never back Hugh, no pull no pining?
“Naebody’s left now, to ken nor care
and in this country a poor man lives like a king
onyhow canna save up – need ma money for beer.”
Drawn up to full height, imposing figure, jutting jaw,
” Outback WA, s’true there’s a Mount Hugh named after me”

Tholin drouth, ticht tin flute, dreaded wallies in,
cheque saved for booked seats, night out on the town,
Pure enjoyment raising smiles, stamps, claps, shout’n
Teeth in pocket, belly free, to Connolly’s for a Swan
Concert critique then, but a big wummin happening by
And he’d throw out his arms, roar and give her a great big squashy hug

Yoo hoo, yoo hoo Hugh! Yoo hoo, yoo hoo Hughie!
“But you’re ma wee hen, you are ma wee hen,
you and Patsy Macfarlane, yir baith ma wee hens, ayewis”

Goodbyes seemed trite in comparison
to humbling delight in his knowing eyes
“Don’t know where wee hen but, ma fay has gone
so ah won’t make a hundred and twenty five”
Pub love is easy, reality barred, still sad to hear
of old hurts, held in hearts unable to celebrate his life and times

Yoo hoo etc………………………………ayewis………………….ayewis

GLOSSARY:
ayewis – always/forever; baith – both; wee hen – term of endearment (small female); wifie – mature woman; tholin drouth – putting up with thirst; ticht tin flute – tight suit; wallies – dentures; wummin – woman

© Words and Music Grace McC. B. Reid

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Changing Hemispheres Album

02. Any News?


It is 1833 and in the Swan River Colony – later to be named Western Australia – settlers are desperate for news of their Governor, Captain James Stirling who has gone at their request to London, to beg for assistance for the near-bankrupt colony.

Most of the settlers came woefully unprepared for the challenges to be faced. Mainly young and urban (the majority came from within an 80 mile radius of London) of the lower middle classes, many expected a new England where they could aspire to the lifestyle and wealth of the landed gentry they could never become part of in England. Resentment was voiced by some English settlers against what they perceived as a distinct Scottish bias in the Swan River Colony.  And while they attempt to survive in Stirling’s absence, many are incensed by a humanitarian speech given by a Scotsman called Lyon, who pleads with them not to pass the death sentence on Yagan and his compatriot Noongars, who have been leading attacks on settlers in retaliation for the killing of one of their own. He likens them to freedom fighters and calls them ‘prisoners of war’ rather than common criminals.
I hoped to convey in this song, something of the increasing desperation and fading hope of the settlers as they wait.

Acknowledgements:
Mary Durack – ‘To Be Heirs Forever.’
Ruth Marchant-James – ‘The Foundation of Perth.’
Stephen Pennels – ‘The Week the West Was Born’ West Weekend Magazine, 175th Anniversary of the West Australian Newspaper.

Song sample
Any News – Lyrics

Chorus

I see a ship anchored off shore – any news – is there a boat in?
Any news from the Captain?
Any news of Governor Stirling?
Any news? Any news? Any news?

We settlers begged our Governor sail for England
Present the truth of our dire circumstance
No funds, no labour, we are sorely put to the test
And progress impossible while we are compelled
To await long months for answers, to each and every request

We feel all but abandoned…..

Chorus

Against the Scotch presence some hearts are hardened
Favours in land grants, places named for friends
Faced with starvation, such complaints are not our concern
Stirling and his Lady are more beloved than
King William and Queen Adelaide – we long for their return

We feel all but abandoned…..

Chorus

Swan River life is not what we envisioned
Servants are idle or leave our employ
In town despair that dissipation cannot assuage
Revenge killings on both sides, now all trust is gone
And yet Yagan is presented as “the Wallace of the Age”

We feel all but abandoned…..

Chorus

© Words and music by Grace McC. B. Reid

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Changing Hemispheres Album

03. Driven

John McDouall Stuart born Dysart, Fife 1815 – died London 1866

His parents died when he was in his early teens. Described as being delicate and small (height 168cm / weight 54kg). After graduating as a Civil Engineer from the Scottish Naval and Military Academy, he did not follow the family tradition of British Army Officer. At age 23, he sailed from Dundee for Australia on the maiden voyage of the barque Indus in September 1838. During the voyage, he had attacks of “vomiting blood”.

In Australia, Stuart made a total of six exploratory expeditions – the last from Adelaide to Darwin. He was hailed as a hero, but after the excitement waned, found himself without home or family, with permanent disabilities and health damaged by bouts of scurvy. He returned to Britain in 1864 and died a couple of years later. Only seven people attended his funeral in Kensal Green, London.

The house in Dysart where he was born is now a museum in his honour.

Bill Bryson the travel writer was in Perth promoting one of his books and an excerpt containing Stuart’s story was published in The West Australian newspaper. A bush-ballad-type song seemed appropriate, hinged on a story about an ‘S’ that Stuart carved in a tree.

Additional Acknowledgement: The John McDouall Stuart Society Inc.

Song sample
Driven – Lyrics

A traveller came to the West, with a tale to tell of an old gum tree
the books say should still have an S carved in the trunk for all to see
for all to see

From Daly Waters he drove out, a couple of miles down a hot dirt track
and tho’ he found an old dead gum, no S he found on the smooth grey bark,
smooth grey bark

Enchanted by the harsh red land whose secret heart you longed to trace
Yet haunted by no fear or dread, as others caught up in the race,
caught in the race

For you were driven by a need to draw aside the “centre’s veil”
sacrificing both health and sight, forsaking wealth and love’s appeal
and love’s appeal

And it’s little wonder spirits soared when you stumbled on the saving stream
It’s little wonder you felt moved, to mark the place that saved a dream,
that saved a dream

But now it seems your ‘S’ may be gone, scoured by sand or seared by lightning’s flame
Weath’ring time has scant regard for driven Man’s desire to carve his name,
to carve his name

Still ‘Wee Scot’ your fame is assured by plaques, memorials, statues grand
and a great Highway runs south to north, bearing your name across the land,
across the land
across the land

© Words and Music by Grace McC. B. Reid

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Changing Hemispheres Album

04. Lament for Lost Names

Many indigenous people of this land now known as Australia have Scottish and Irish names. Some may have chosen to take those names, but many were ‘given’ it. . History shows that there is something in human nature that causes the oppressed to become the oppressors given a change in circumstances.

Being of Scottish/Irish heritage, I have used the term ‘Celtic’ and a lament format to express my sorrow and the taking away of a person’s name as a metaphor for the taking away of a people’s way of life, by those who might have been expected to be more aware and compassionate – through their own or their forebears histories – of how they were affecting Aboriginal peoples.

Song sample
Lament for Lost Names – Lyrics

If it was laid on you by one who knew loss and deprivation
If bestowed by those whose ways were destroyed by ‘a parcel o’ rogues in a nation’
If imposed by one who knew the hunted fugitive’s pain
Then I’m sorry you have a Celtic name

If it was laid on you by one who knew the bitterness of invasion
If bestowed by those whose fate was decreed by foreign legislation
If imposed by one who knew the cut of Their Majesties’ chains
Then I’m sorry you have a Celtic name

If it was laid on you by one who knew the joy of God’s salvation
If bestowed by those whose lives were pledged to honour their vocation
If imposed by one who knew the hurt of rejection and shame
Then I’m sorry you have a Celtic name

If it came to you through cruel jest or careless patronisation
If not given in love and accepted in the same
Then I’m sorry you have a Celtic name
Then I’m sorry you have a Celtic name

© Words and music by Grace McC. B. Reid

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Changing Hemispheres Album

05. Jupiter Botanicus

Robert Brown: Born Montrose, 1773 died London 1858

Sailed with Mathew Flinders as botanist on board the Investigator, on the first circumnavigation of the Australian continent from December 1801 – May 1805.

His task was to collect as many plants as possible and write them up in scientific journal form. When published in 1810, the Prodromus did not sell well, as lack of money and the size of the task resulted in a poorly presented volume, but despite this, Brown is remembered as the father-figure or king of plant identification and classification.

Another view of such plant collecting activity uses terms such as “horticultural looting”, “government sanction of plant theft”, global transportation of plants”. Robert Brown was also first to observe the ceaseless movement within pollen grains, in what came to be known as ‘Brownian Movement or Motion’.

I combined these three notions in writing this song.

Acknowledgements:
Brian J. Ford in ‘The Microscope’
ABC 2002 – ‘The Naturalists.’

Song sample
Jupiter Botanicus – Lyrics

Jupiter Botanicus
Bound for Terra Australis
Demand for new knowledge brought from lands far away
The spur for your journey
And a Prodromus Florae Novae Hollandiae

CHORUS
Opinions vary, opinions change
Back and forth across the range of thoughts
In perpetual motion, perpetual motion, perpetual motion

Jupiter Botanicus
Back from Terra Australis
One thousand plants gathered for each year of your stay
Two thousand too many
For the Prodromus Florae Novae Hollandiae

CHORUS
Opinions vary, opinions change
Back and forth across the range of thoughts
In perpetual motion, perpetual motion, perpetual motion

Jupiter Botanicus
Open doors to the populace
Rare specimens plundered
Skilful taxonomy
Imperial forays
Famous Prodromus Florae Novae Hollandiae

CHORUS
Opinions vary, opinions change
Back and forth across the range of thoughts
In perpetual motion, perpetual motion, perpetual motion
Perpetual motion, perpetual motion, perpetual motion

© Words and Music by Grace McC. B. Reid

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Changing Hemispheres Album

06. A Different Fight


William McKenzie: born Biggar, Lanarkshire, Scotland 1869 – died Sydney, Australia 1947.

The McKenzie family emigrated to Queensland, Australia in 1884 where two of William’s uncles were already living. The eldest son and a big boy for his age, Will was often in trouble because he liked nothing better than a good fight. The most intriguing aspect of his story for me, was the ‘the Voice’ that he first heard at age seventeen, urging him towards the Salvation Army. This Voice was there to guide him in his ministry and protect him on battlefields in WW1, by giving succinct instructions.

I was intrigued by the image of this big, bluff man listening intently, while all hell raged around him. His story of meeting life’s challenges with energy and faith, seemed naturally to lend itself to a ballad-style account.

“War is nothing short of insensate folly. It is inconclusive in its results and devastating in its ultimate consequences. If there is any other European war after this, then civilisation is a myth and the people no better nor greater than their forebears of the Stone-age.” William McKenzie (Anzac Padre) Gallipoli 1915

Acknowledgements:
Adelaide Ah Kow – ‘William McKenzie, M.C., O.B.E.,O.F. Anzac Padre.’
Simon Moscarda for jamming sessions early in this ballad’s development.

Song sample
A Different Fight – Lyrics

“A horrid ill laddie” his poor mother sighed
For fighting and scrapping were Willie’s delight
And from Biggar to Brisbane through long weeks at sea
Confinement for brawling shamed his family
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

When lost and despairing he first heard the Voice
That captured his spirit and channelled his choice
To ride and find Bundaberg’s Salvation Hall
Seeking conversion, accepting God’s call
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

Then boldly rose Mac from the Penitent Form
And bullockys and farmhands were filled with alarm
Demands for conversion when bellowed with zeal
Caused neighbours who spied him to take to their heels
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

‘Twas meetings and War Crys and walking for miles
Insults and tricks met with genial smiles
Led by the Voice through unknown streets to find
The sick and the sinbound, the perplexed in mind
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

With no hesitation he asked to be freed
The troops moral welfare and spiritual need
Would be his best work in the dark days to come
When man’s inhumanity made the world mourn
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

On board ship for Egypt with men disinclined
To welcome a Padre or sing with his kind
Persistance combined with a great hearty voice
To sow seeds of love and respect in ‘his boys’
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

Fearlessly plunging through Cairo’s hell holes
Where temptation threatened men body and soul
Risking a knife as he disrupted trade
Pleading with, dragging out, boys who had strayed
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

In digging and marching he trained by their sides
And men fit to live and men ready to die
Could late by his lamp find the Lord’s healing balm
In learning the words of the twenty-third psalm
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

Gallipoli’s trenches and tiers of dead
Paying heed to the Voice, through shell-fire safely led
Down Shrapnel Valley he strode with voice raised
And out crawled the living to join him in Praise
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

Through mud and mire, urgently conscious of time
Glad word passing down France’s Sacrifice Line
Scores of boys buried and buried again
And gathering up discs he shared each mother’s pain
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

Farewell best-loved Padre, he and the men grieved
But fears for his health meant he must be relieved
With thanks for his labours from humble and grand
He passed down the ranks, gripped each man by the hand
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

Huge rapturous crowds gathered wherever he spoke
The patriots, the maimed and the heartbroken folk
And none but his own knew the price he had paid
The tormented mind and the nerves that were frayed
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

War’s horrors relived again night after night
No slumber, no rest in the sounds, smells and sights
So restless, choosing the floor for his bed
Then nightmares receding – memory fled
Fighting McKenzie was destined for
A different fight, a different war

© Words and Music by Grace McC. B. Reid

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Changing Hemispheres Album

07. Blue China

“Women are like blue china; very valuable when sound, but very worthless once damaged or broken.” (Unidentified male emigrationist)

The British Ladies Female Emigration Society (BLFES 1849-1888) while acknowledging migration as inevitable, did not promote or even condone it, but lobbied Colonial governments to finance the employment of matrons on ships to provide protection and training for unaccompanied young women, arguing that these measures would make them better colonists, “whether as servant, wife, or mother”. Respectability was the most important requisite for domestic employment.

Matrons were middle-class women given free passage and a small stipend in return for assuming a most ambiguous role, in which she was responsible for protecting the morality of the young women, while being subordinate to some of the men who could be the greatest threat to it.
Some Matrons allocated a time for family members travelling on the same ship to visit her charges. In one letter home a young woman describes how daring young men willing to risk the Matron’s wrath, would pretend they had a female relative among the group.

I wrote a verse for each group in this story to speak. I imagined a young Scotswoman having been thoroughly berated by a Matron in the situation described, lying at night despairing of the unfairness of her future being ruined by somebody else’s prank.

Acknowledgement:
Jan Gothard – ‘Blue China: Single Female Migration to Colonial Australia’.

Song sample
Blue China – Lyrics

We ask colonial governments to wisely recognise
That single female emigration demands
Selection, protection, reception safeguards
And our Society has these skills at its command

Chorus
Blue china, pretty blue china
Precious, only when unspoiled
Blue china, pretty blue china
Precious, only when unspoiled

My task as On-board Matron is – through strict surveillance
of these young women – to ensure they do not roam
Instruction, recreation, protect morality
Fit them for service in middle class Australian homes

Chorus

I rax oot in the darkness for my Guid Book’s comforting
Since that harsk Matron’s tongue hae whummled my mind
At ‘Visits’, a birkie ca’d me his sister
Noo for some daffen my hirin’ prospects are tined

Chorus
Blue china, pretty blue china
Precious only when unspoiled
Blue china, pretty blue china
Precious, only when unspoiled
Blue china, pretty blue china
Precious, only when unspoiled

© Words and Music by Grace McC. B. Reid

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Changing Hemispheres Album

08. Flora’s Fear

© Mary MacKillop Place Museum 2007
Flora Macdonald

© Mary MacKillop Place Museum 2007

Flora MacKillop, nee MacDonald (mother of Australia’s first canonised saint, Mary MacKillop) born Fort William 1816 – arrived Port Philip 1837 – Died in a shipwreck 1886 in the Australian Bight sailing from Portland, Melbourne, bound for Penola, South Australia.

Flora met Alexander MacKillop in Melbourne and must have fallen ‘head-over-heels’ in love, as they were married 3 months later. Mary their first-born, was the eldest of eight children. Unfortunately, Alexander was regularly involved in some dispute with somebody, there being no shades of grey in his moral code.

Among other disasters, this trait resulted in him being unable to sustain any form of employment for any length of time.

This song captures the moment when – in front of their family – Flora involuntarily expresses her fear for herself and the younger children should Mary follow her calling and leave home to form a community of Sisters. Her words suddenly reveal to Alexander, her poor opinion of him as provider.

Acknowledgements:
Pamela Freeman – ‘The Black Dress: Mary MacKillop’s Early Years’.
Martyn McLaughlan – article in the Scotsman Newspaper.

Song sample
Flora’s Fear – Lyrics

Chorus
Oh Maria Ellen, gnothach miadhail, sweetheart, old soul child
Your future plans I cannot bless, for if you go who will I depend upon
if Mary takes the Black Dress

That awful moment when all gathered knew that words unbidden, could not be recalled
Horror hung in utter quiet, then a sharp intake of breath
Widened eyes followed the path of truth revealed as it dealt the blow
And illusion died a bitter death

For I who always believed that God would provide, in my heart knew He had
in the form of my Mary

Chorus
Oh Maria Ellen, gnothach miadhail, sweetheart, old soul child
Your future plans I cannot bless for if you go who will I depend upon
if Mary takes the Black Dress

I too – like my namesake – aided a man to hide and flee, but this man from himself
Battles fought for high ideals never kept hunger at bay
Loving hearts to anger do succumb and yet strive to give respect
Even as it slowly ebbs away

Still I who almost despaired knew we would survive, ever true, our rock, my consolation, my Mary

Chorus
Oh Maria Ellen, gnothach miadhail, sweetheart, old soul child
Your future plans I cannot bless, for if you go who will I depend upon
if Mary takes the Black Dress

© Words and Music by Grace McC. B. Reid

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Changing Hemispheres Album

09. New Beginnings

Peter Dodds McCormick: born Port Glasgow around 1834; died in Waverley, Sydney 1916.

Having completed an apprenticeship in Joinery, McCormick arrived in Australia in 1855. He worked at his trade for a time and it is also recorded that he worked on a project as a stonemason before attending Fort Street Model School for a month before being appointed teacher-in-charge at St Marys National School. He taught in a number of other schools until his resignation in 1885 then continued to give religious instruction in schools until 1916. He took a prominent role in various Scottish Societies.

His great love was music and soon after his arrival in Australia, he joined the congregation of the United Presbyterian Church as precentor. Determined to form a choir, he worked hard towards that goal, despite vigorous protests from the elder members of the congregation and in time, was gratified to see choirs established in the majority of the churches. In 1880 he conducted a total of 20,000 voices at a Sunday School Centenary demonstration. In 1907, McCormick was awarded £100 by the Carruthers Government for his patriotic composition, now the National Anthem ‘Advance Australia Fair’.

I combined carpentry and conducting imagery in the writing of this song and also looked at how migrants prosper best who can be open to new experiences and opportunities.

Song sample
New Beginnings – Lyrics

Hands working with wood, learning his trade
Many ships to be built, employment guaranteed
Striking out instead for a new country
And turning them to anything he could
In new beginnings, for a joiner from Port Glasgow

Hands cradling the Psalms, Preceptor leads
Squeaking chalk on teacher’s board
But sharing music his greatest love
New songs penned and welcomed home
In new beginnings

Heart longing to be Conductor too
Against the grumbling, glowering few
Dreams of descants, harmonies and parts
Faces mirroring his own
Coaxing the sound, rising loud, falling sweet and low
In new beginnings, for a joiner from Port Glasgow

Hands scribbling down words, humming a tune
Angry thoughts inspiration on the late bus home
Dashing off a new anthem of our own
Rallying Australia’s sons and daughters
In new beginnings, for a joiner from Port Glasgow

Hands carving the air, pulling it smooth
Eager eyes note every move
At his bidding, massed voices sing as one
Faith and longing, love and hope
In new beginnings

And every now and then it comes,
A call for change to the Anthem
New words are found and like shifting sand
Lines and verses disappear
Yet, would he mind, for his kind changing was the key
In new beginnings, for a joiner from Port Glasgow

Acknowledgements:
Eileen Durum – ‘Composers of Australia’
Jim Fletcher in ‘Australian Dictionary of Biography’
The Sydney Morning Herald Death notices Nov. 1916
George McCann senior – information on ‘jiners’ in Scotland

© Words and Music by Grace McC. B. Reid

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Changing Hemispheres Album

10. Silly Bitch

Similar to that situation where couples have a baby with the strange idea that the experience and outcome will improve their relationship! This woman agreed to emigrate to Australia from Scotland, only to find that nothing much about the relationship improved and that her circumstances – minus family, friends and familiar surrounds had in fact worsened.

I have her just sitting – coming to terms with how daft and naïve she was!

Song sample
Silly Bitch – Lyrics

So there she sits – silly bitch – what was she thinking of?
She sits and she fits reality to the dream
It seems the new life is just the old life in a different place
While he’s still living on the edge and she’s still living on the verge of tears

So there she sits – silly bitch – what did she do for love?
She sits with her wits unravelling at the seams
Because the new life is just the old life in a different place
For he’s still living on the edge and she’s still living on the verge of tears

And it’s a long time waiting for a man to grow
And she can’t believe she hoped a change of hemisphere would show
That they would bind together to face the new life years
But he’s still living on the edge and she’s still living on the verge of tears

And there she sits – silly bitch – what is she thinking of?
She sits amid bits of thought swirling downstream
Oh yes, the new life is just the old life in a different place
For he’s still living on the edge and she’s still living on the verge of tears

He’s still living on the edge and she’s still living on the verge of tears
And there she sits

© Words and Music by Grace McC. B. Reid