A fragment of autobiography
Between 1903 and 1908, Henry Lawson began to record some reminiscences of his life in his two volume manuscript, 'A fragment of autobiography', now held in the Mitchell Library. The narrative begins with Lawson's earliest memories and goes on to document the author's first publishing experiences.
These pages, taken from the first volume of 'A fragment of autobiography',
detail Lawson's daily routines and emotions at the time he was working with his mother on her various publishing ventures, and the early encouragement he received from Bulletin editor, J.F. Archibald.
Lawson also describes the circumstances in which he wrote his first published poem, 'Song of the Republic', recording his trepidation on its submission and repeated visits to the Bulletin offices. Some months later, Lawson learned his verse had been deliberately held back for inclusion in the magazine's special '8 Hour Day' edition, and it was finally published on 1 October 1887.
When 'Golden Gully', Lawson's second poem for the Bulletin, was published in December 1887, Archibald added the following editorial note:
'we take pleasure in stating that the writer...is a young Australian boy...who has as yet had an imperfect education...a youth whose poetic genius here speaks eloquently for itself'
TRANSCRIPT: Selections from 'A Fragment of Autobiography': Henry Lawson: Vol. 1: "Song of the Republic": A 1887: p.46-52.
…My mother started to publish the Dawn, in Phillip Street, then the Young Idea and Young Australia, which last was sacrificed in later years and is alive now I believe. Later on I edited and helped print, wrap and post a paper called the Republican, with William Keeper, one time Tommy /
Walker’s manager, and a sort of adopted brother of mine – but that later on.
It was mostly house painting now and odd jobs about.
(Jubilee “Roots” here 1887-88)
One wet night I was coming home through Hyde Park from working late on a job at Paddington. Rain and wind and swept boughs and sickly gaslights on the wet asphalt and poles and scaffolding about in preparation for the jubilee celebrations. I had sent a /
couple of attempts on the subject to the Bulletin, and had got encouragement in Answers to Correspondents. And now the idea of “Son of the South” or “Song of the Republic” came. I wrote it and [struck through: sent it in and watched the answers to correspondence column as hundreds have watched it since] screwed up courage to go down to the Bulletin after hours, intending to drop the thing into the letter box, but, just as I/
was about to do so, or rather making up mind as to whether I’d shove it in, or take it home and have another look at the spelling and the dictionary, the door opened suddenly and [an old] a haggard woman stood there. And I shoved the thing into to her hand and got away around the corner, feeling [like] something like a person who had been nearly caught on the premises under suspicious circumstances and was not safe yet by any means. I watched the Answers/
to Correspondents column as many have watched it since – they’ll understand. Here is the reply.
[missing]
I hadn’t the courage to go near the Bulletin Office again but used to lay awake at night and get up very early and slip down to the nearest news agent’s [to have a peep at the] on Thursday mornings to have a peep at the Bulletin, in fear and trembling and half furtively – as if the news agent – another hard life woman by- the-way named Mrs Furlong/
would guess my secret. At last sick with disappointment, I went to the office and saw Mr Archibald, who seemed surprised, encouraged me a lot and told me that they were holding the Song of the Republic over for a special occasion – Eight Hours Day.
It has never been printed in any of my books, so I give it here; not because of any literary merit, but because it was my first song and sincere – written by a bush boy who was a (skinny) city work boy in patched pants and blucher boots/
struggling on the edge of the unemployed gulf – and written twenty years ago in Australia in high toady days….