Puzzling Pursuit
A magistrate had noticed the broken telegraph wires as he’d passed Faithfull’s Creek on the train earlier that day. He got off the train at Benalla to alert the police. Superintendents Nicolson and Sadleir immediately swung into action. But instead of heading straight for Faithfull’s Creek, they jumped on the train and set out in the opposite direction! An informant had told them that the Kellys were on their way to New South Wales. They decided to act on this information. At the time, the gang were still at the Faithfull’s Creek homestead, just 45 kilometres away, and would have been an easy target. Once again, luck and police bungling were on Ned’s side.
The Kelly Gang did cross the Murray River into New South Wales, but not for another two months. They weren’t escaping from the Victorian police or looking for a place to hide. They were on their way to hold up another bank.
Two policemen who took part in the hunt for the Kellys. They wore ordinary clothes so that people didn’t know they were police.
8. The Kelly Gang Strikes Again
What if you were there...
Some foolish people are saying it was the most exciting thing to ever happen in this town. Other misguided fools are declaring it will put Jerilderie on the map and make it famous forever. Some think it is amusing. I am not amused. It is an outrage.
I’d just ridden home from Urana, a gruelling 40-mile ride in fearfully hot weather. It was 22 minutes to five when I arrived home. I dismounted in the paddock behind the parson’s house and left my horse to feed and water itself. I trudged wearily to my own home behind the bank and went straight to the bathroom as I was in urgent need of a plunge bath. I had just filled the bath and was about to commence removing my dusty clothing when Mr Living, the bank’s accountant, appeared at the door.
“We’re held up, sir,” he said. “It’s the Kellys.”
I was not in the mood for humorous nonsense. “What rubbish,” I replied, ordering him to get himself back to the bank chamber immediately while I attended to my bath.
“It’s not rubbish,” said a rough-accented voice. “We want your key to the safe.”
I turned and there was a young man with a most insolent expression on his face and a revolver in each hand, both pointed in my direction. Thus I was persuaded that Living was not joking.
The safe in my bank is opened using two keys—one of which is in my possession, the other in the possession of Mr Living. The long, hot ride had not left me in a good humour. I knew there was no possibility that I could foil the robbers’ evil intentions, but I could at least delay them.
“I will finish my bath first, if it’s all the same to you,” I said and shut the door in the bushranger’s face.
I completed my toilet, put on some trousers, a silk bathrobe and my smoking cap. Feeling refreshed, I was escorted to the Royal Mail Hotel next door to the bank. There I made the acquaintance of Ned Kelly, who immediately demanded that I open the safe. Though it vexed me sorely, I had no choice but to do as he asked. The outlaws grasped at the bags of money and also some jewellery, which was being held for safekeeping. Kelly then pulled out a number of documents—deeds, mortgages and the like—which were also in the safe. He set light to them while he ranted about banks being the enemy of the poor.
The outlaws seemed disappointed by the amount of money kept in the bank and searched for more. Once they were persuaded that they had it all, they escorted Living and myself back to the Royal Mail and bought us all a drink. I at first declined, but then thought a drop of spirits might steel my nerves should an opportunity to overpower the outlaws arise.
Their vile deed was done, but they seemed in no hurry to leave our town. Kelly saw fit to make a speech to his prisoners, now some 30-odd people, and lectured us about how the police had mistreated him and left him no choice but to murder three of their number. Then he announced we could all leave if we liked.
Still the outlaws seemed in no rush to depart. I caught the eye of the junior clerk and told him to fetch my horse. By this time the crowd was dispersing and Kelly was out in the street talking to Reverend Gribble. Ensuring that no one was watching, I went round the back of the hotel where the clerk was holding my horse.
“I shall ride like the wind,” I told him. “They’ll never catch me.”
Mr John Tarleton, Bank Manager, Jerilderie
Another Robbery
“If I had robbed and plundered ravished and murdered everything I met young and old rich and poor, the public could not do any more than take firearms and Assisting the police as they have done.”
Ned feels the public is against him, Jerilderie Letter
The already saddle-sore bank manager rode another 92 kilometres to Deniliquin to raise the alarm. He didn’t get there until 6 a.m. the following day. Once again the slow communications of the time meant that the Kelly Gang had plenty of time to make their leisurely escape.
The £2000 that they had stolen from the Euroa bank didn’t last long. It was a small fortune in 1878, but Ned had generously shared the money with his family and friends and by February the gang needed more funds.
Confident after the success of the last bank hold- up and the grudging praise it had brought from the press, Ned had a plan for another bank robbery. This one was even more daring than the last.
Counterfeit Troopers
He chose the Bank of New South Wales in the town of Jerilderie. The bank was in the heart of the main street. The gang planned to size up the town on Sunday and rob the bank on Monday. For their headquarters, instead of a remote homestead, Ned chose the police station.
The gang held up the Jerilderie police station in the early hours of Sunday, 9 February 1879. They soon had the town’s two policemen safely locked in their own jail and had made themselves comfortable in Constable Devine’s family quarters.
The gang was so confident of their success that they didn’t even feel they had to hide. Joe and Steve dressed up in spare police uniforms and rode around the town with the other policeman, Constable Richards. Townspeople thought they were new policemen being shown around the town. They didn’t realise that they were members of the feared Kelly Gang who were familiarising themselves with the town so that they could work out the best way to rob the bank.
The following morning Joe and Dan, dressed in police uniform, had time to buy some meat at the butcher’s and have their horses reshod. Then Ned put on a police uniform. He held up the publican in the hotel next door to the bank, telling him he wanted the use of his bar parlour for a few hours. He would hold the prisoners there.
Easy Money
Joe and Ned then held up the bank. The bank manager wasn’t present, but they took the bank clerks to the “prison” in the bar next door. Dan kept guard over them and anyone else who happened to come into the hotel.
When the bank manager returned, he was filling his bath when he found Steve Hart pointing a gun at him and demanding his key to the safe. Ned was again disappointed by the amount of money at the bank—just over £2000.
As an afterthought, Ned sent some of the townspeople to chop down the telegraph poles.
Publicity Campaign
Ned had a new, longer letter which he and Joe had written. Since he had had no luck writing to a politician, and the police had forbidden the press to print his letter, Ned needed a new way of getting his case heard. He wanted his new letter to be printed on handbills which would be circulated by the people themselves. This way, he thought, he could reach as many people as possible.
Like someone today who wants their grievances aired on a TV current affairs show, Ned believed that if the facts were known, people would under-stand that he had been forced to break the law.
Ned had hoped that the town’s newspaper editor would print his 56-page letter. He was annoyed when he discovered that the editor had found out that they were in town and had escaped. Instead Ned gave the letter to Mr Living, the bank’s accountant, who promised to give it to the editor. But Living didn’t keep his promise. Instead, he
handed it over to the police. This second letter is known as the Jerilderie Letter.
“The Queen must surely be proud of such heroic men as the Police and Irish soldiers as It takes eight or eleven of the biggest mud crushers in Melbourne to take one poor little half starved larrikin to a watch house.”
Ned’s view of police as cowardly, Jerilderie Letter
“I give fair warning to all those who has reason to fear me to sell out and give £10 out of every hundred towards the widow and orphan fund and do not attempt to reside in Victoria… I am a widow’s son outlawed and my orders must be obeyed.”
Closing words of the Jerilderie Letter
Unhurried Getaway
Even though they knew at least two people had ridden out of town to raise the alarm, the gang still didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave. They collected the money and went back to the hotel, where they bought drinks for their prisoners. Leaving the two policemen locked in their cell, Ned let the other prisoners leave. He stole a horse and a saddle, while Steve took the parson’s watch. When the owners complained about these thefts, Ned promptly gave them back again. Then they finally left town.
Reign of Terror
The bank robberies at Euroa and Jerilderie make interesting and, at times, amusing tales. But for people at the time, living in small remote towns with only one or two policemen to protect them, it wasn’t so amusing. They were afraid of the Kellys.
The police seemed powerless to capture them. The gang had killed three men. Though they had never killed any civilians, Ned had made a number of dire threats to do so. People thought that they would be safe as long as they surrendered quickly and willingly. They practised putting up their hands until they could do it as quickly as possible. Travellers along country roads made sure that they had their hands ready to raise if they were held up.
If newspaper readers around the country were eagerly waiting for the next daring and entertaining Kelly Gang exploit, they were disappointed. After Ned and his boys disappeared into the bush after the Jerilderie hold-up, it was almost a year-and-a-half before they were seen again.
9. Disappearing Outlaws
What if you were there...
We’ve been camped in these freezing hills for nearly two weeks. I’m sick of it. Two weeks of sleeping during the day and then creeping out like thieves in the night to watch over the homes of the Kellys’ sympathisers. The Superintendent seems to think that sooner or later the Kellys won’t be able to resist the lure of home and we’ll be able to nab them. The trouble is the Kellys are cleverer than the senior police.
We are watching Maggie Skilling’s house. That’s Ned’s eldest sister. She’s just about the head of the family now, what with her brothers on the run and her husband and mother in jail for the Fitzpatrick business. She looks after her land, her children and her younger brothers and sisters. We’re pretty sure she feeds her outlaw brothers and their mates as well.
I don’t sleep well in the daylight. Yesterday was as bad as ever. Every time I woke with a rock in my side or the sun on my head, I’d smell bread baking. She’s got a lot of mouths to feed, has Maggie, but by the smell of it, this batch of loaves was for an even bigger crowd.
Last night, I was wet through from sitting out in a fine drizzle. The light had gone out in the house at about 10 o’clock, so I’d spent the hours of the night staring at darkness. Then at about four in the morning I noticed some movement—a single figure creeping out of the door and going over to the horses. I nudged Constable Mills next to me who, though he swears he wasn’t, was asleep. There was no moon, so it was hard to make out, but I could see that the figure was carrying heavy bags and heading to the horse paddock.
Whoever it was saddled one of the horses and mounted. We crept over to our horses and followed at a safe distance.
“This is it,” I whispered to Mills. “They’re taking food to the Kellys.”
It was hard tailing the horse what with there being no moon. After an hour I thought I’d lost them. Then suddenly we came out of the trees. The horse and rider were on the other side of a clearing. I held my horse still, hoping we hadn’t been seen, but it was too late. The rider spurred the horse which galloped off.
The chase was on then. We were gaining a little. The rider’s hat blew back and I could see long black hair stream out. She was wearing trousers and riding astride like a man, but I knew for sure it was Maggie Skilling and her saddle bags were stuffed full of food for her brothers.
Just as we thought we were going to catch her, she disappeared. Mills and I split up. I went up a ravine, while Mills followed another track. The ravine was steep and narrow, but there was no sign of her. The first light of the morning was just starting to smear the horizon. A terrible thought came to me. What exactly was I going to do if I suddenly came across the Kellys’ camp? If they were waiting at the end of this ravine, I’d be a sitting duck. I couldn’t possibly manage four men by myself. Just then a rider came up behind me. I turned, pulling my gun. Lucky I didn’t fire. It was Mills. The track he had followed had petered out. With guns drawn, we rode on without a word. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart. We rode up that narrow gap for an hour, always feeling that every moment could be our last. Then the track skirted around a large fallen rock and there in front of us was Maggie Skilling. She was sitting on a log with her thumbs pressed into her cheeks, her fingers waggling and her tongue stuck out.
“G’day, boys,” she said. “Out for some early morning air?”
I quickly glanced around. She seemed to be on her own. I dismounted and went to inspect her bulging saddlebags. If we couldn’t have the Kellys, we’d have Maggie on suspicion of aiding and abetting outlaws. I undid the buckles and pulled out the contents. The bags, both of them, were stuffed with tablecloths. When she saw my face, Maggie laughed till tears ran down her face.
Jim Dixon, volunteer Kelly hunter
The Legend Grows
“Circumstances have forced us to become what we are—outcasts and outlaws, and, bad as we are, we are not so bad as we are supposed to be.”
Ned thinks the gang doesn’t deserve its bad reputation, Letter to Chief Secretary
Soon after the Jerilderie hold-up, the reward for capture of the gang increased in both Victoria and New South Wales. There was now an unbelievable total of £8000 reward. This amount is the equivalent today of around $2 million. The fact that no one was ever tempted to give the Kellys away is an indication of the support they had. The gang’s exploits were already starting to move into the realm of legend. Songs were written about them and sung to the tunes of traditional Irish songs by their sympathisers and admirers. Joe Byrne, a man who was “for a bushman clever with his pen” is said to have written at least one of the ballads himself.
“My name it is Ned Kelly,
I’m known adversely well.
My ranks are free,
my name is law,
Wherever I do dwell.
My friends are all united,
my mates are lying near.
We sleep beneath these shady trees,
No danger do we fear.”
A verse from the ballad said to be composed by Joe Byrne.
On the Run
Life on the run must have been a strange ghost-like experience for the gang. They still never strayed far from home, but they were constantly on the move. They travelled up to 100 kilometres in a day—or rather in a night, for the gang always travelled at night. During the day they played cards and tried to get some sleep.
Their friends and families saw to it that they were well fed. Ned’s sister, Maggie Skilling, was their biggest supporter. A cooking fire could have easily given the gang’s hiding place away. So that they didn’t have to make a fire, Maggie baked bread, cooked meals and rode through the night to take the food to her brothers.
It wasn’t a comfortable life. The gang may not have gone hungry, but they suffered from lack of sleep and from boredom.
Counter Attack
The police
were having no luck at all finding the outlaws. They decided that this was because their friends and relatives were too ready to help them. Even though they closely watched the Kelly house, Ned’s sisters still managed to outfox them. The police were getting more and more criticism from the press. Chief Commissioner Standish decided that he would attack the Kelly sympathisers.
Twenty-one friends and relatives of the gang were arrested and kept imprisoned without trial for months. But this didn’t have the effect that Captain Standish wanted. Not all of the men arrested were really Kelly sympathisers. The families of the arrested men were left short-handed on their farms. Instead of discouraging people from supporting the Kelly Gang, this ill-treatment only made people more sympathetic to their cause.
Captain Standish’s next step caused even more discomfort to poor people. Anyone suspected of helping the Kellys was banned from taking up new land selections. This was perhaps the worse thing he could have done. Right from the beginning Ned had been complaining that greedy, rich people prevented poor people from taking up land. The police commissioner was only proving Ned right. The troopers did pick on innocent poor people. The Kelly Gang’s support continued to grow.
“They used to rush into the house upset all the milk dishes break tins of eggs empty the flour out of the bags onto the ground…and shove the girls in front of them into the rooms like dogs so as if anyone was there they would shoot the girls first…”
Police ill-treatment of Ned’s sisters, Jerilderie Letter
“I dont think there is a man born could have the patience to suffer it as long as I did or ever allow his blood to get cold while such insults as these were unavenged and yet in every paper that is printed I am called the blackest and coldest blooded murderer ever on record. But if I hear any more of it I will not exactly show them what cold blooded murder is but wholesale and retail slaughter.”
Ned threatens the police, Jerilderie Letter