The Bugle App
The Bugle App
Your local news hub
FeaturesLatest issueSports24 Hour Defibrillator sitesKCR
The Bugle App

The Young Swaggie

The Bugle App

Mark Emery

19 March 2024, 9:00 PM

The Young Swaggie

In 1929 the world economy collapsed and Australia was plunged into The Great Depression. A large number of people were out of work with little hope of finding any. Many men left their families, carried a swag and travelled around the country visiting farms. They would ask to do some work for a feed and a bed in the barn. Maybe they would get some money to send home to feed their families. Life was tough.


My father Clive Emery, who has since sadly passed away, loved to write stories about local characters, sometimes for the local newspaper, sometimes just for himself and his friends. 

My family lived in Foxground and was often visited by swaggies traipsing the backroads looking for work. 

Here he recalls a visit by one of the most unusual of these desperate men. 


Clive Emery


It was 1930, and the Depression was beginning to bite. Our Foxground farm, being the closest to the Prince's Highway as one entered the Valley, was almost daily visited by men carrying their 'Bluey', the name given to their bedrolls because of the traditional colour. They were in search of work or sustenance. Invariably they would do any job for a meal, 'for a feed, Missus', so they were dispatched to the woodheap where an axe lay waiting for them to cut an armful of wood for the fire, while Mother prepared a meal and another 'for the road'.



The Prince of 'Swaggies' was  Larry Power. His visits were somewhat irregular, perhaps once or twice a year, but there was something about him which bespoke of "professionalism', a Gentleman of the Road.  As children we held him in awe, so gracious was he upon receipt of his package of food and a billy of tea.  He never exceeded his position by presumption, but would remove his battered stetson to Mother, and bow slightly in recognition of her graciousness.  


She would smile back and say: 'that's all right Mr Power,' when he would bow again, replace his hat and retire to the sassafras tree on the roadside and seat himself with his back against the trunk and pour a pannikin of tea.

From our vantage point under the hedge, we children had a good view of him, and when we went into lunch and returned, he was gone.


We were surprised one day when a young lad of sixteen called at our place looking for work.  Most of our swaggies were men upon whom bad times had fallen and the youngster was plainly a novice since his swag was new and his billy was not blackened from use.  


Dad accepted the plea of the young man and said he would take him on for a week's trial. The young man was so pleased there were tears in his eyes as he agreed to the proposal.  



As if we needed to know, he said it was his first day out on the road, so Ron Hull, for such was his name, was taken to the Old Kitchen, set apart from the house and now used for storage.


A bed was made for him and he was told about what work he was required to do. During mealtimes when he would eat with the family, which was not normal.   It was easier, Mother said, when she saw his youthhood.


The week proved eventful. He had asked for a pen and paper so he could write to his mother and tell her he was all right; this was granted and posted off, for Mother was the postmistress at the time.  


On the fifth day Dad had a phone call from Sergeant Brogan of Berry asking after the lad.  Dad had to hedge him a bit, for we were at the table and his speech could be heard. Finally, he agreed to ring back.   



The lad had run away from home, the sergeant said, and his mother was distracted that he should be on the road.  He advised Dad not to speak of it at all, and his mother would be contacted and brought along at the appropriate time.  


Three days later the Sergeant arrived in his tourer with his mother, and while Mother talked to her in the car the Sergeant went with Dad to have a talk to the lad in his bedroom. Ten minutes later they came out and were reunited with tears on both sides.  


We learned later that Ron had left home to relieve his parents with five other children to care for, and no work for his father, so he took it upon himself to become the household provider, hoping to get a job and send the money home to his mother! Dad gave him some money for their train fares, despite being assured by the Sergeant that the matter had been cared for.