Black Snake

by Carole Wilkinson

  “Right then,” said Superintendent Sadleir, looking at his pocket watch. “It must be time for lunch.”

  Superintendent Nicolson nodded, ordering me to unpack the picnic baskets.

  I reckon we got within spitting distance of the Kellys today. Those natives knew they’d be first in line if we walked into an ambush. They led us astray. Sadleir and Nicolson were no better. When it came down to it, they were more interested in saving their skins than catching the Kellys.

  Senior Constable Charles Johnson, Violet Town

  In Fear

  Ned could have chosen to head to New South Wales, even to try to get out of the country, perhaps to make a new life in America, but he didn’t. While his mother was in jail, Ned still had a job to do. He wouldn’t be going anywhere until she was freed. Most of the time that the gang was on the run, they were no more than 50 kilometres from the Kelly home at Greta.

  After the Stringybark Creek killings, Ned and his mates were no doubt expecting to be hounded down by a vengeful police force and outraged public. Yet the police force in Victoria, along with most of the general population, were terrified of the Kelly Gang. Though the number of police in North Eastern Victoria was almost doubled, they showed a definite reluctance to go anywhere near places the gang was suspected of being.

  Close Shave

  The Kelly Gang was very lucky. In the early hours of the morning, 36 hours after the killings, the gang was seen trying to find a way across the flooded Ovens River by Constable Bracken, who knew the Kellys. News of the killings hadn’t yet reached the constable. He waited until the telegraph office opened the next morning before he reported the sighting. By the time troopers arrived, the gang had slipped away.

  This wasn’t the only close call. Four days later, local police were hot on the outlaws’ trail. As torrential rain continued to fall and the floodwaters rose, the gang continually found their way blocked by lagoons. With the police right on their tail, the waters had cut them off and they were trapped on an island surrounded by flooded land. The gang were forced to dismount and let their horses go, while they themselves waded into the water to hide in some reeds. Standing up to their necks in water, with their guns wet and useless, they held their breath as the unsuspecting group of policemen rode by. The gang then rounded up their horses and as darkness fell, they risked lighting a small fire to dry themselves and their guns.

  They eventually crossed the flooded Ovens River, but this involved a daring dash through the town of Wangaratta in the dead of night. Little did they know that 22 troopers, brought in for the search and due to start searching the following day, were sleeping in a local hotel. Once again, the gang were seen, this time by local farmers. From the direction they were heading in, it looked like they were planning to take cover in the Warby Ranges.

  Top Brass

  “… a parcel of big ugly fat-necked wombat headed big bellied magpie legged narrow hipped splaw-footed sons of Irish Bailiffs or English landlords which is better known as Officers of Justice or Victorian Police…”

  Ned’s opinion of the police, Jerilderie Letter

  So far Ned and his friends had had luck on their side. But as police officers moved in from around Victoria, they also had something else on their side—the unintentional help of incompetent and cowardly senior police officers.

  Top-ranking policemen were sent to head the hunt for the Kelly Gang. Superintendent Nicolson had been put in charge of the search. Superintendent Sadleir, head of the North Eastern Victoria police district, joined him. The Chief Commissioner of Police, Captain Standish, came up from Melbourne to take part in the search. Inspector Brooke Smith from Beechworth was also called in.

  Brooke Smith was one of the policemen who had been sleeping in the hotel when the gang crept through Wangaratta. The next morning, when an excited constable told him the news of a Kelly Gang sighting right in Wangaratta, Inspector Brooke Smith didn’t see any need to rush off immediately. In fact it was two days before the inspector and his party were ready to set out after the gang. Even then they didn’t head for the Warby Ranges, but further north.

  Inspector Brooke Smith was never in a hurry to get after the Kelly Gang. He didn’t like getting up early in the morning. It sometimes took his men more than four hours to get him out of bed. At other times they’d leave without him and he’d catch up with them after lunch. He didn’t like camping out in the bush either. Even when, by pure luck, they came across fresh tracks, he insisted on going back to his comfortable hotel in Wangaratta for the night. By the time they rode back to the tracks the following morning, the Kellys were long gone.

  “…that article that reminds me of a poodle dog half clipped in the lion fashion, called Brooke E. Smith Superintendent of Police he knows as much about commanding Police as Captain Standish does about mustering mosquitoes and boiling them down for their fat…”

  Ned’s opinion of Brooke Smith, Jerilderie Letter

  Rats’ Castle Fiasco

  Superintendents Sadleir and Nicolson didn’t do much better. Information had been received from a man who was “not quite sober” that the Kellys were hiding in hills near Beechworth. Even though this information was unreliable and five days old, a search of the rocky area, known locally as Rats’ Castle, was planned.

  Neither Sadleir nor Nicolson wanted to take charge of the raid and each led separate groups of men. They had no firm plan, but thought that the Kellys might be sleeping in a hut in the area and if they struck before dawn they could capture them.

  The police assembled in the dark. The Chief Commissioner, Captain Standish, joined the company. He had emigrated to Australia using a false name to escape gambling debts in England. He continued to be addicted to gambling in the colonies. He once lost six months salary in one night.

  Standish and other enthusiastic local men were all keen to go down in history as the men who caught the Kellys. Some newspaper reporters from Melbourne also joined the search party which by now was nearly 50 strong.

  Under cover of darkness, they raided three huts, but the noise of so many horses could be heard for miles around. Even if the gang had been there, the thunder of approaching horses’ hooves would have given them plenty of warning.

  The officers questioned the people who lived in the huts. A crowd of spectators grew, as neighbours and men mining in the area came to see what all the fuss was about. By this time it was morning and everyone was hungry. Refreshments were sent for and everyone settled down to a pleasant breakfast in the bush. The police decided that the day’s search was over and the searchers went back to Beechworth.

  Renewed Confidence

  After two months on the run, Ned was confident that the gang could evade the bungling police forever. He didn’t like being continually dependent on the charity of poor farmers for food, though. He needed money. The Kelly Gang had already run rings around one symbol of authority—the police. Next they would take on the banks.

  7. A Perfect Plan

  What if you were there...

  It’s in all the papers. I saw it all. I’ll remember it as long as I live.

  I was out in the back yard hanging out the last of the washing—some of the baby’s things and the doilies—when one strong hand grabbed my arm and another one clamped over my mouth.

  “Don’t be afraid,” said a voice behind me. “We’re sticking up the bank, but you’ve nothing to fear if you do as I say.”

  I couldn’t see who it was.

  “We’re going into the house,” he said. “Will you stay quiet?”

  I nodded. I couldn’t have cried out if I’d have wanted to, I was that frightened.

  He led me to the house. My knees were shaking so much I thought I was going to faint and the robber had to half carry me to the back door.

  “Is it the Kelly Gang?” I asked, my voice shaking as much as my knees.

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m Dan Kelly.”

  It wasn’t until we were inside that I could see my captor. I’d been expecting a rough looki
ng lout, but there was a neat, clean-shaven young man standing in front of me.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “My brother is up the front relieving your master of the bank’s money,” he said with a smile. “We’ll just wait here until he gives the word.”

  I thought that bushrangers would wear horrible dirty clothes that smelt of horse sweat, but Dan Kelly was wearing a beautiful suit of clothing: grey tweed trousers and vest, a crisp, clean shirt and a black jacket with a white kerchief in the breast pocket. He wore a white hat, which he took off as soon as he was inside the house. His hair was black and quite long, but neatly combed. He smelt nice too. He could see I was frightened, so he fetched me a glass of water and asked me about my family.

  After a while, two other robbers came in from the bank chamber with Mr Scott. One of the robbers was Ned Kelly himself. The other I recognised as Stephen Hart, who used to be at the same school as me. Mr Scott was trying to be brave and forbade them from going into the family’s rooms. Ned Kelly pushed him aside and went in anyway. Mrs Scott was very calm. You’d think she got held up by bushrangers every day.

  They’d collected all the money from the bank. I thought that was the end of it, but the Kellys had other plans. Next thing they took us to carts and wagons in the yard and drove us off. There was quite a crowd, what with the whole Scott family, the bank clerks, the nanny and me.

  I was in a cart sitting between Mr Scott and Ned Kelly. The other carts were following. Stephen Hart rode behind. I turned and Dan, who was driving the hawker’s wagon, winked to reassure me. I had no clue where we were going, but I’d lost my fear—this was a better way to spend an afternoon than doing the ironing.

  We arrived at Faithfull’s Creek homestead, which was where the gang was hiding out. The housekeeper cooked a meal and we were invited to eat in the kitchen with the bushrangers. While Ned Kelly was impressing Mrs Scott and the other ladies with his stories, I talked to Dan. He told me about the hard times they’d had since they’d been on the run and how his poor mother was in jail.

  Then at about half past nine, Ned suddenly said, “It’s time to go, lads.” I asked Dan if I could have a souvenir to remember him by. He gave me a brand new sixpence from the money they stole from the bank and a bullet which he carved with his initials. Then they rode off in a cloud of dust and that was the last I ever saw of Dan Kelly.

  Fanny Shaw, maid

  Thoughtful Thieves

  Ned knew that he would need the support of friends and relatives in the district if the gang were going to remain free. He also knew that he was asking a lot of these people. Another section of the Felons Apprehension Act stated that there would be very harsh penalties for anyone who helped the Kellys. Prison sentences of up to 15 years hard labour were promised.

  The gang had a reputation as callous murderers because of the events at Stringybark Creek. People in small towns were in a state of panic about further Kelly Gang attacks. One man, on hearing a sudden bang during the night, rushed outside and hid up a tree. He stayed there until morning, when he discovered it had just been his cook dropping a saucepan.

  Ned wanted to change the public’s opinion of the gang. They had already tried to show that although they were outlaws they were no threat to ordinary people. They had paid for food they demanded from stores and hotels. In one case, when they didn’t have money, they went back weeks later to pay for it. They needed money badly, but Ned was determined they wouldn’t be like other bushrangers, bailing up people on the road and demanding their money. They would only steal from the banks. And the Kelly Gang bank robberies would be like no others.

  A Cunning Plan

  Ned decided to “stick up” the National Bank of Australia in the town of Euroa. He’d given the matter a lot of thought. The bank was on the edge of the town, away from the main street. And a few kilometres away there was a property called Faithfull’s Creek, which he could use as headquarters. Rich squatters who lived in the city owned it. This suited his needs perfectly.

  Ned and Joe Byrne tried to think of everything they would need and everything that could go wrong. They worked on their plan until they thought it was flawless. On Tuesday, 10 December 1878, a funeral was taking place in Euroa as well as a hotel-licensing meeting. Many of the townsfolk would be taking part in either one of these events. That was the day the Kelly Gang would rob the bank.

  Best-dressed Bushrangers

  The robbery was to be no hit-and-run affair. The gang didn’t want to ride into town, guns blazing, steal the money and gallop off again. This would result in an immediate response to track them down. They wanted it to be a quiet business, unnoticed by the townspeople, so that they would have plenty of time to get away before the alarm was raised.

  The first thing they did was hold up the homestead at Faithfull’s Creek the day before they intended to rob the bank. They rounded up the farm workers and locked them in a storehouse. The people working on the farm assumed the Kelly Gang had come to rob them, but they hadn’t. They planned to launch the robbery from there.

  James Gloster, a travelling salesman, arrived soon after the gang. He was a regular visitor to the area selling clothing and household goods from the back of his wagon. The gang locked him in the storeroom with the other men while they sorted through his wares looking for new clothing. It seemed as if Gloster had unwittingly stumbled into the middle of a bank robbery. But it was no accident. It was prearranged. Gloster was a friend of the Kellys. Each gang member selected an outfit from among the hawker’s stock—everything fitted perfectly. Ned didn’t want his gang looking like a bunch of ruffians. Ned selected brown tweed trousers and vest, a blue coat and a felt hat. He completed his outfit with a pink tie. Dan chose an outfit similar to his brother’s. The other two preferred suits—Joe’s light grey, Steve’s dark grey. They all put white handkerchiefs in their jacket pockets and splashed on some cologne. Then they were ready—the best- dressed bushrangers ever seen.

  They spent the night at the homestead and the following day they cut the telegraph wires leading to Euroa. A party of passing kangaroo hunters and a man who came to fix the telegraph wires joined the prisoners in the storehouse. The gang borrowed Gloster’s wagon and the hunters’ cart and rode into town, leaving Joe to watch the prisoners.

  A Stick-up

  It was some time after 4 p.m. when the gang rode sedately into the deserted town. The bank was closed. Ned knocked on the door asking to see the bank manager. When the bank teller refused to let him enter, Ned pushed his way in. Steve was close behind him. They both drew revolvers and Ned asked the manager to hand over the money. Meanwhile Dan had gone round the back in case anyone tried to get away. They collected over £2000 worth of coins, banknotes and gold. They were disappointed. They had hoped there would be much more than that.

  Ned didn’t want news of the robbery to spread too soon, so he took the bank manager and his employees as prisoners. As the bank manager lived behind the bank, Ned also had to round up his wife, seven children, mother-in-law and two servants. Borrowing another cart to carry this crowd, the gang made their way back to the homestead at Faithfull’s Creek. They had something to eat, let their prisoners out for some exercise and entertained them with a show of their trick riding skills. When it grew dark, they told their captives to give them three hours start before they let anyone know what had happened, then they disappeared into the night.

  A Red Letter

  During the day-and-a-half spent at the homestead, as well as guarding the prisoners, Joe Byrne had been busy with another task. Ned believed that if only people knew the truth about his life—how the police had hounded his family, the innocence of his mother—then they would understand why he’d been driven to bushranging. Ned had previously dictated a long and rambling letter to Joe who, being the one with the best handwriting, wrote it down. In Joe’s spare time at the homestead, he made two neat copies of the letter in red ink. Ned posted one to a politician in Melbourne by the name o
f Donald Cameron and the other to Superintendent Sadleir. The first letter has survived and is now known as the Cameron Letter.

  “No doubt I am now placed in very peculiar circumstances and you might blame me for it but if you knew how I have been wronged and persecuted you would say I cannot be blamed.”

  Ned thinks he has been wronged, Cameron Letter

  “It seems impossible for me to get any justice without I make a statement to someone that will take notice of it, as it is no use in me complaining about anything that the Police may choose to say or swear against me and the public in their ignorance and blindness will undoubtedly back them up to their utmost.”

  Ned’s lack of faith in police justice, Cameron Letter

  Public Relations

  In the following days, newspapers all over the country were full of details of the bank robbery. The mood of the reporters had changed. They were impressed by the skill and care that had gone into the planning of the robbery. They called it “audacious” and “daring” and said it was more like something that had happened in a novel than a real event. The released prisoners told how they had been treated well. The women reported how polite the young men had been, and how well dressed. The police, who were still busy searching in other parts of the colony, were spoken of less kindly.

  There was one disappointment for Ned. The police had forbidden newspapers to publish his letter. Reporters had quoted bits from the letter though. It was better than nothing.

  Ned’s plan had worked perfectly. Not only had they robbed the bank and got clean away, they had also started to change people’s opinions of the Kelly Gang. In what we would today call a “public relations (PR) exercise”, Ned had made a conscious effort to get people to like him. The public no longer thought of him as a rough, uncouth bushranger, but a clever, smartly dressed man. His PR exercise had been a complete success.