Pits and Pieces
from Warren Fahey's Collecting Swag


Warren Fahey has been collecting, researching and performing Australian bush songs for many years. He has toured extensively both solo and with his pioneering group The Larrikins. He also plays English concertina. Warren has made several recordings and has published eleven books on various aspects of Australian folklore.





The Murder of Percy Brookfield

In my books 'Balls of Bob Menzies'  (Angus & Robertson) and 'Ratbags & Rabblerousers' (Currency Press) I mention some lines from a songs about Percy Brookfield who was the MLA for Broken Hill. Percy Brookfield was shot dead on March 22, 1921, by a 'Russian madman' at Riverton Railway Station, South Australia. The circumstances of the murder remain clouded and the 'Mad Russian' was detained in a SA institution.

Mr Harry Chaplin of Broken Hill sang me the song however he felt it may have had another verse. Since Brookfield was sympathetic to the Communist party (although not a member) I suspect this song was popular within CPA circles.


 Percy Brookfield

From North, South, East and Westward
He was loved by all who slave
And to save the lives of others
His noble life he gave
He did not want the asking
He was ready for the fray
And won a name in history
On that immortal day

Chorus
Australia, Australia,
The loss of Brookfield may you mourn
He faced the gun, our noble son,
And from our ranks he's gone
He loved his fellow workers
And for them his life he gave
And now he's sleeping peacefully
In a heroes grave

The train was late that morning
To Adelaide on its way,
When a man ran amok at Riverton
And held the crowd at bay.
Jack Broomfield in a moment
Said “Something must be done.”
And bravely rushed the murderer
And tried to seize his gun.


Recently I came across another song and make the note that it is the work of P F Collins who was also known as 'Percy the Poet'. Collins regularly wrote and printed broadsides which he personally hawked at venues like the Sydney Cricket Ground and Paddy's Market. I understand Hugh Anderson has been undertaking considerable research into Collins and, hopefully, this will result in a publication.

Percy Brookfield

Lament from shore to shore,
For Brookfield who's no more;
His honest life is over,
He's lying cold and dead.
A sterling man was he,
With me you will agree;
He helped men to be free,
Throughout the world wide.

He gave the wowsers fits,
He hated hypocrites,
And men who worked in pits
His heart was brave and pure
Of that we're very sure,
He helped to feed the poor
When faced with poverty.

At Riverton we know
A madman laid him low,
And as years come and go
He will not be forgotten.
The bravest ever trod,
Beloved by man and God,
And now beneath the sod
'til Michael's trumpet sounds.

Farewell, staunch Brookfield,
Your deeds are far a-field;
To death you had to yield
Philanthropist and sport.
Now, goodbye Percy dear
We've shed a silent tear
Your god and grand career
Will never, never die.



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