Could Martin Bourke, an Irish unionist who mysteriously drowned near Winton in 1890, have inspired Banjo Paterson’s legendary swagman?
By Tony Hammill
Country Campfire Introduction
In December 1994, Tony Hammill examined all eleven surviving inquests into drownings in the Winton district recorded before Waltzing Matilda was written. Only one, he argues, bears a striking resemblance to the story at the heart of Banjo Paterson’s famous song: the mysterious death of mounted unionist swagman Martin Bourke on Manuka Station in 1890.
The origins and chronology of Waltzing Matilda remain contested. Some later accounts question the traditional date of Paterson’s visit and the claimed 6 April 1895 performance. The following article presents Tony Hammill’s documented interpretation rather than a settled identification. It has been reproduced with his permission and lightly formatted and copyedited for online publication. Historical terminology has been retained where it reflects the records and period being discussed.
The Origins of Waltzing Matilda
Andrew Barton ‘Banjo’ Paterson, Sydney lawyer, bush poet, folklorist and nationalist, visited his fiancée, Sarah Riley, at Winton, Queensland in January 1895. The district had recently endured two great shearers’ strikes, those of 1891 and 1894. On these trips it was Paterson’s practice to collect old bush songs, stories, and local words and expressions; in short, to faithfully capture the flavour of the bush and its ways, irrespective of his own social and political views.
In Winton Paterson was introduced to Sarah’s friend Christina Macpherson, who was visiting her brother Robert who managed nearby Dagworth Station. Paterson was invited to Dagworth, and here Christina played on the station autoharp a Scottish tune called Craigielea which she had heard performed by a band at the Warrnambool races. Paterson decided to give the tune lyrics, and drawing on a local story or stories he had heard, “then and there” according to Christina, wrote the first verse of Waltzing Matilda, a tale about a sheep-stealing swagman who is apprehended at a waterhole or billabong by the station squatter and three troopers. Rather than be arrested, he jumps into the billabong and drowns.
The song was completed, early sources attest, around the piano at Oondooroo Station near Winton, and Paterson would have used whatever poetic licence was necessary in terms of plot and rhyme in order to assemble the lyrics. Those lyrics, however, strangely captured the atmosphere of social and industrial unrest that had prevailed in the district around that time, and it is a testimony to Paterson’s skills that they did.
Paterson’s song slowly grew in stature to the point where it has long been regarded as Australia’s unofficial national anthem, and is recognised throughout the world. Paterson himself regarded it as of little consequence, selling the lyrics in 1903 to Angus and Robertson amongst a lot of ‘old junk’, describing the work as ‘not a great literary achievement’.
The Samuel Hoffmeister Theory
Because of the song’s fame, many have researched the background to the lyrics, but without much success. Folklore and hearsay explanations abound to bedevil this fascinating tale, but no hard evidence has emerged. The dominant theory today is that of the late Richard Magoffin of Kynuna, who saw the lyrics as an allegory of the 1894 shearers’ strike. He claimed the swagman was Samuel ‘Frenchy’ Hoffmeister who, an inquiry determined, committed suicide by shooting himself (through the roof of the mouth) with a revolver at a small temporary camp (‘better grass’) by a waterhole about four miles from Kynuna on the Dagworth road. This was on the afternoon of Sunday 2 September 1894, the same day as the burning of the Dagworth woolshed just after midnight.
Oral history aside, however, the Hoffmeister inquest depositions of 5 September are remarkable only for their lack of evidence connecting Hoffmeister with anything, whether it be the Waltzing Matilda story, the burning of the Dagworth Station woolshed, or Macpherson and three troopers who, it is claimed, rode up to the camp to examine Hoffmeister’s body; nor is there any indication that anyone was arrested over the incident. The only policeman evident in the seven depositions (his own included) was Constable Austin Cafferty who was quickly summoned from Kynuna, and who collected Hoffmeister’s body that same afternoon with blood still fresh from the mouth. There was no sign of a scuffle.
Hoffmeister’s mates said he was a ‘bit mad’. He had burned a letter in the campfire just after lunch (the postman had been to the camp), then walked away and shot himself near a tent. A considerable leap of faith is necessary in order to see the Waltzing Matilda story in all this and to accept the allegory theory. Magoffin himself in a letter to me raises doubts as to whether Hoffmeister was the swagman of Paterson’s song.
Magoffin had actually suggested to Stuart Svensen, author of The Shearers’ War, that three stories contributed to the song, including one about sheep stealing. Svensen expressed doubts that an impromptu song of this nature, to which Paterson attached no importance, would have embodied such complexity (Occam’s razor!). He surmised that an actual incident lay behind the song, but concluded that there was not enough surviving evidence to prove beyond doubt what it was. Magoffin had also claimed that only one man had drowned in the district up to the time of Paterson’s visit (George Pope in the Dagworth woolscour in 1891). That would make Paterson’s storyline basically fictional and boost the allegory claim. In 1994, the year before the centenary of the song, I was in contact with Magoffin, Svensen and others.
Searching the Winton Inquests
I had thought the Hoffmeister theory unlikely, and decided to take up the challenge to find that missing incident if it occurred and was recorded. Since the core of the Waltzing Matilda story concerns a swagman drowning in a waterhole or billabong, I reasoned that if it was indeed based on fact, there would be an inquest document at the Queensland State Archives broadly following the Paterson story, as inquests or inquiries were required by law under such circumstances to determine whether foul play was involved.
Looking at all available evidence is essential. In December 1994 I therefore located and studied all eleven inquests into drownings in the Winton district up to the time Paterson wrote his lyrics in 1895. Only one bore any resemblance to the Waltzing Matilda story, but that one is striking to say the least. It involves a Unionist swagman drowning in a waterhole by a tree in a sheep paddock, a campsite and billycan, an intensely disliked policeman, and anti-union squatters. It is the story of one Martin Bourke (‘Burke’ on the death certificate).
Martin Bourke and Manuka Run
The incident happened on Manuka Run, not far from Dagworth, and adjoining Oondooroo Run owned by the Ramsay family. Paterson visited the station on at least one recorded occasion for a demonstration of firefighting equipment. Several early sources say Herbert (later Sir Herbert) Ramsay, a baritone, was involved with the song from very early on. As Christina played the Oondooroo station piano, Paterson wrote the words and Herbert sang the song. Herbert even dressed as a swagman to perform it, which he did at the North Gregory Hotel on 6 April 1895, the occasion being a banquet for the Queensland Premier. There is a photo of him so dressed in Sydney May’s The Story of Waltzing Matilda.
The Dagworth and Oondooroo parties later teamed up to sing Waltzing Matilda at the Winton races in May. It is virtually certain that Paterson would have been acquainted with the Bourke story, and highly likely that it was related to him by Ramsay, given his involvement with the song.
The Cast of the Story
- Martin Bourke (or Burke): Labourer, Unionist (Queensland Labourer’s Union ticket no. c122 issued 17/10/1889. Source: Noel Butlin Archives, Canberra, per Stuart Svensen). A mounted swagman; carried swag behind saddle.
- Senior Constable (later Sergeant) Edward Barry: Officer in Charge of the Winton Police Station. Received a bad inspection report in 1890: bad-tempered, insubordinate, drinks too much, bad method of handling men under him, often hooted at the Union camp, said “They want to ruin me,” fined by Winton Police Magistrate R. W. Moran in June 1891 for assaulting a Unionist. Source: Q.S.A./A40409 Personnel file of Sgt E. Barry. Knew Bourke.
- Constable Frederick Whitney: Served under Barry at Winton. Knew Bourke.
- Henry Peters: Labourer on Manuka Station. Knew Bourke.
- Mr Fraser: Part owner of Manuka Station. Anti-union; his shed was burnt down during the 1894 strikes. Source: Stuart Svensen.
- Mr Donald: Part owner of Manuka.
Peters, Whitney and Barry gave depositions at the inquest which was held between 20–25 November 1890 before Police Magistrate R. W. Moran.
Inquest Summary
Martin Bourke was known to the Winton police. On 15 June 1890 he was locked up for being drunk and disorderly, and again on 17 June for drunkenness. He was then wearing a grey check Crimean shirt, moleskin trousers, and very large Blucher boots, as reported by Constable Whitney. Bourke told Senior Constable Barry he was ill with a pain in the side. Barry advised him to go into the hospital and not to drink as much as he had been doing.
About 24 June Barry saw Bourke in Elderslie St, Winton, leading a horse with a saddle and swag on it. In addition to the aforementioned dress, Bourke was wearing a felt hat.
About 30 June, Henry Peters, a labourer residing at Manuka Run (about 75 km NNE of Winton near Corfield on the Winton-Hughenden Road), who knew Martin Bourke, while in company with another man, found a bay horse in the south paddock of Manuka Run. The horse had a saddle and bridle, and also a swag. The horse was feeding close to a waterhole. They looked about and found a billycan, a johnnycake and a knife close to where a fire had been lit.
The matter was reported to the head station and Mr Fraser, one of the owners, came down the next day. A search revealed nothing. Mr Fraser sent a man into Winton to report the matter to the police.
On 5 July Constable Whitney proceeded to Manuka Station accompanied by a black tracker to look for a lost man, and arrived the following day. He was told at Olio Public House along the route that a man had left there for Manuka Station about 30 June, but did not arrive. His name was not known.
At Manuka, Whitney told Peters he was looking for a man named Bourke who was lost. Whitney took possession of the horse, saddle and swag, but there was nothing in the swag to identify the owner.
Fraser sent a man with Whitney to show him where the horse was picked up, and told him where he could find a footprint near a waterhole. Whitney followed it across the water to a small island. He noticed where a man had been sitting down on the opposite side of the island and on the edge of a very deep waterhole. Whitney probed the pool with some large poles but without success.
For five days Whitney searched the surrounding countryside but was unable to find any trace of the man on account of the long grass and the large number of sheep in the paddock, which had obliterated all tracks. On one day Peters accompanied him and they relocated a broken billycan and a piece of johnnycake where a fire had been lit. This was near a waterhole and about 200 yards from the footprints, and close to where the horse had been found. Fraser also had men out searching for two days.
Convinced the body was in the waterhole, Whitney watched until the eleventh day and then gave up the search, arriving at Winton with the horse and gear on 12 July. Barry recognised the horse as the one Bourke was riding on 24 June.
On 18 November Peters found the remains of a man in the waterhole where tracks had previously been found. The body was badly decomposed and unidentifiable. It was lying face downwards, one leg in the water and the other out. (Whitney described the position as legs in the water and body in the mud.) Peters reported the matter to Mr Donald, one of the owners of Manuka, who came out with two men. The body was covered with green boughs and Peters was sent with a letter to the police.
Whitney left Winton on 20 November and arrived the following day. He recognised the dress on the body as that worn by Bourke when in the Winton jail. None of the victim’s bones were broken.
The waterhole was then about ten feet deep, and the water level had dropped about ten feet since June. A root of a tree was growing out where the body was, and this would have prevented it coming to the surface.
The body was buried close to where it was found. According to the death certificate, Martin Burke was aged 32 and a native of Ireland.
From Death to Legend
If ever a story existed that was likely to give rise to a legend, this had to be it. Here was a well-known, knockabout Unionist from Winton who had run foul of the police, who disappeared from his campsite in a sheep paddock on Manuka, and whose body was only recovered from beneath the roots of a tree (a coolibah perhaps?) in a waterhole after nearly five months. In the interim the pubs, sheds, camps and households around Winton would have been a hotbed of rumours, giving rise in all probability to the theory that Bourke had been caught killing a sheep, and had drowned in the waterhole while attempting to escape; but where was his body? Squatters and police would have been under suspicion of involvement in Bourke’s death, a suspicion that would not have ended with the recovery of Bourke’s remains, since no explanation for the drowning was ever discovered. The mystery remained.
In addition, this theory would have blended perfectly with the egalitarian mentality of the bushmen with its hatred of harsh authority, and fallen in line with the best traditions of the ‘No surrender’ and ‘Die game’ attitude of The Wild Colonial Boy and other bushrangers, which is so much a part of the Australian ethos. I suggest that the Waltzing Matilda legend would have been well-established by the time Bourke’s remains were recovered, waiting for Paterson to pick it up and record it in song.
The Shearers’ Strike Connection
Moreover, the Bourke saga unfolded against the backdrop of simmering tension between the Queensland Shearers’ Union and the pastoralists over the issues of pay, contracts and unionism in the sheds. This boiled over only a couple of months after the Bourke inquest into the Great Shearers’ Strike of 1891. The Queensland government intervened by sending police, special constables and the Queensland Defence Forces to maintain law and order and to protect and escort strike breakers. The strike was broken by May with the camps full of hungry, penniless shearers, and thirteen union leaders jailed for conspiracy. This bitter defeat and power imbalance led ultimately to the formation of the Australian Labor Party. In this volatile environment the Bourke story would have flourished, with Senior Constable Barry again in the spotlight, hooted in the camps and convicted of assaulting a Unionist.
A Case for Martin Bourke
The Bourke story appears to have the ring of authenticity about it, with no need for recourse to a complicated allegory with its hidden (and therefore debatable) meaning, and which does not contain the central theme of a swagman drowning in a billabong. Final proof is probably not possible after the long lapse of time, but perhaps the Waltzing Matilda story is not in fact an allegory of the 1894 strikes, but rather a legend of the 1891 strikes; a legend, thanks to Paterson, destined for greatness.
A Lost Family Connection
After my research was published in a local newspaper, I was visited by a lady who said she was the granddaughter of Peter Burke, whose brother Martin was lost to the family up north. Unfortunately, when I tried to locate her later for family photographs, I found she had passed away and her husband had left Brisbane, so a choice opportunity was lost.
References
- Magoffin, Richard. Waltzing Matilda 1895–1995: Ballad of the ‘Fair Go’. Coorparoo, Queensland: Robert Brown & Associates (Qld) Pty Ltd, 1995.
- Manifold, John S. Who Wrote the Ballads? Sydney: Australasian Book Society, 1964.
- May, Sydney. The Story of Waltzing Matilda. Brisbane: W.R. Smith & Paterson, 1944.
- Queensland State Archives. Martin Bourke (supposed), Winton, date unknown, drowning, Manuka Station. JUS/N 183, 554/1890.
- Queensland State Archives. Samuel Hoffmeister, date of death 2.9.1894, shooting, near Kynuna. JUS/N227, 357/1894.
- Semmler, Clement. The Banjo of the Bush: The Life and Times of A.B. ‘Banjo’ Paterson. St Lucia, Queensland: University of Queensland Press, 1966.
- Svensen, Stuart. The Shearers’ War: The Story of the 1891 Shearers’ Strike. St Lucia, Queensland: University of Queensland Press, 1989.
Further Archival Reading
- Queensland State Archives: Waltzing Matilda and the Swagman Inquest
- State Library of Queensland: The Origins of Waltzing Matilda
- National Library of Australia: Papers of Andrew Barton ‘Banjo’ Paterson
This article was written by Tony Hammill and is shared by Country Campfire with his permission. The research, conclusions and original work remain Tony’s property.

Tony Hammill
Award-Winning Bush Poet • Australian History Writer • Researcher • Retired Teacher
Tony Hammill is an award-winning bush poet and Australian history writer whose research explores folklore, historical figures and the stories behind Australian legends.
