by Peter Carey
I been wondering said she exactly what experience do you have of robbing banks.
I think I know well enough how to rob a bank.
O forgive me she said I never knew it were something you done before.
You must not let Joe worry you I reckon I can rob a bank.
She come to join me at the table. I wished to hold her in my arms to run my fingers down her slender back to place my hands across the curve of her stomach.
And how would that be she asked. It were such a clear straight gaze she had.
I didnt think bank robbing were an art of much interest to women.
It is a subject that is become more than 1/2 interesting to me. For instance would you be planning to stroll in the front door?
I fancy thats as good a door as any other.
And would you rob the bank when it were locked or unlocked?
When it were unlocked.
Unlocked?
That don’t suit you Madam?
I certainly would not arrive when the bank were open said the surprising girl. I never would wish to have the difficulty of dealing with customers as well as the tellers.
O would you not now?
I would go after 3 o’clock when they were tallying the take then I would knock at the door and have a cheque with me that I needed urgent to be cashed.
Mary I said you must of robbed a bank before.
I have a baby in my womb said she that I would like the pleasure of seeing upon her father’s knee.
You understand I have an obligation to my mother?
Indeed I do and to me as well.
That I do.
You should expect the manager to have his pistol handy.
I will knock at the door and the mongrel will shoot me dead?
Well that certainly is the danger at Benalla where old Patrick McGrath will know your face don’t you think? And Philips who drank with us and Fitzy that night at the Bridge Hotel he’s still head teller but I were thinking Ned are you known at all in Euroa?
Mary it were you showed me the drawings in the papers they’ll have seen them in Euroa too.
Then the Euroa bank will be expecting the Devil not my handsome Ned. Let me trim your beard you get yourself a nice suit from Mr Gloster and anyone will see you is a darling darling man they would think you was a squatter. The tellers would have to open the door if you had a cheque to cash.
And would you not come to the door for me my Mary?
I would cross the world for you. She come around the table and then she took my scabbed and callused hands and placed them carefully upon her.
Dear daughter you know I never had no proper education at Avenel I would have to be there with my sixpence each Monday morning except when my father were in the lockup and then my mother must be granted a CERTIFICATE OF DESTITUTION. From the time we went to Greta I had no school at all so there are much better educated men than me to write the story of our robbery and you may study this account as a fair example. Yet not one of them scribes was sufficient for your mother’s taste as you will note from her comments on the sides. Heres my cutting and theres your ma she sits watch on these sentences like a steel nibbed kookaburra on the fences in the morning sun.
The Morning Chronicle, December 11, 1878
The Sticking Up of Faithfull’s Creek Station
THE HOMESTEAD OF FAITHFULL’S CREEK STATION IS THREE MILES along the railway line from Euroa and only a stone’s throw from the railway line itself. Shortly after noon on Monday one of the employees of the station, a man named Fitzgerald, was sitting down to dinner in his hut when a bushman sauntered up to the door, and taking his pipe out of his mouth, inquired if Mr McCaulay, the overseer, was about. Fitzgerald replied, “No, he will be back towards evening.” The bushman said, “Oh never mind, it is of no consequence.”
Fitzgerald continued to eat his dinner, but the door of his hut was open and he had a clear view of the bushman beckoning to some persons in the distance. As Fitzgerald was finishing his dinner he saw two very rough looking characters join the bushman. They were leading four very fine horses, in splendid condition. There were four bays.
3 bays and a grey
The bushman then proceeded to the homestead.
He was very handsome, over six ft. tall, built in proportion
Mr Fitzgerald’s wife was, at that time, engaged in household duties in the homestead kitchen. The old dame was considerably surprised that a bushman would enter with no invitation, she asked him who he was and what he wanted. He said, “I’m Ned Kelly, but do not be afraid; we shall do you no harm, but you will want to give us some refreshments and food for our horses, that’s all we want.”
Mrs Fitzgerald immediately called for her husband who duly arrived. His spouse introduced him to the bushman, saying, “This is Mr Kelly, he wants some refreshments and food for his horse.” By this time Kelly had drawn his revolver and Fitzgerald, knowing him to be the Mansfield Murderer, said, “Well, of course, if the gentlemen want any refreshment they must have it.” Ned Kelly then entered into a conversation with the Fitzgeralds, making very particular enquiries about the number of people employed at the station. To all questions satisfactory answers were given.
While this was going on two other men, one of whom is now known to be Dan Kelly, were busily engaged in feeding the horses. A fourth man was standing at the gate, evidently keeping watch.
Kelly then took Mr Fitzgerald to a building used as a storehouse and locked him inside, all the time making assurances that no harm was intended to anybody. As the station hands came up to the huts to get their dinner they were very quietly ordered to bail up and were marched into the storehouse and locked up with Fitzgerald, no violence being offered them as they went quietly.
3 of these men knew E. Kelly’s good character for many a year
Later in the afternoon Mr McCaulay, the overseer, returned from his rounds and when crossing the bridge over the creek he noticed with some surprise that quietness reigned about the station. As he neared the storehouse he heard Mr Fitzgerald call out from the building, “The Kellys are here. You will have to bail up.” He did not believe this but then Ned Kelly came out of the house and, covering him with his revolver, ordered him to bail up. McCaulay, without dismounting, said, “What is the good of sticking up the station? We have no better horses than those you have.” Kelly then repeated that he wanted food and refreshment; he also added that he wished a place for he and his men to sleep.
Still McCaulay did not believe it was the Kelly gang, but when Dan Kelly came out of the house he recognised, he said, “his ugly face” from the portraits previously published in this newspaper.
D. Kelly has clear blue eyes, strong cheekbones, a strong and handsome face
McCaulay then said to the Kellys, “Well, if we are to remain here we may as well make ourselves as comfortable as possible, and have our tea.” He led them back into the homestead. The Kellys, however, were very cautious. They took great care that some of the prisoners should taste the food first, being afraid poison might be administered to them. Nor would all four of them sit down at once. Two of them had their meals while the other two kept watch until relieved. It was just as the second pair finished Mrs Fitzgerald’s Mutton Stew, that the cry went up there was a new arrival, a hawker with his wagon and two horses. This was Mr Gloster,
On time to the minute
who has a shop in Seymour, but is in the habit of travelling about the country with a general assortment of clothing and fancy goods.
Ned Kelly called out to him to bail up, but Gloster did not see the danger and went about unharnessing his horses as was his normal custom. Daniel Kelly immediately raised his gun and was about to fire when Ned Kelly prevented him doing so. McCaulay also called out to Mr Gloster he should bail up or there would be blood shed. Gloster, who appears to have been a pretty obstinate fellow, took no notice of the threats of the Kellys or the entreaties of the overseer and so continued about his business. Ned Kelly put his revolver to Gloster
’s cheek and ordered him obey or he would blow his – – – – – – – brains out. At this point quite a drama was enacted in the dusty yard and it was only by the endeavours of Mr McCaulay that Kelly was prevented from shooting Gloster. Dan Kelly was eager for blood, as he expressed a strong wish “to put a bullet through the ––––––– wretch.” Gloster was then locked up in the storeroom and the four ruffians then proceeded to ransack the poor man’s cart where they each provided themselves with a new outfit. As luck would have it the fit was very good
A strange coincidence indeed
and the four soon made bush dandies of themselves, helping themselves freely to the contents of the scent bottles which they found among the stock.
E. Kelly wore a blue sac coat, brown tweed trousers and vest, elastic-sided boots, brown felt hat
Before going to bed for the night, the Kellys opened the door of the storeroom, and let the party out for a while to get some fresh air, but at the same time keeping their revolvers in their hands and watching their prisoners very closely. While they were all smoking pipes together, a friendly conversation took place. Ned Kelly said, “I have seen the police often and have heard them often. If I had been a murderer I could have killed them any time I chose.” He spoke a great deal about his mother whom he continued to insist had been unjustly imprisoned and her newborn baby cruelly taken from her. He gave the clear impression he would give himself up if the government would release his mother.
Not true. He never said this. He will give himself up on no account.
DESTRUCTION OF TELEGRAPH
Having locked up their prisoners for the night, two of the gang went to sleep, while the others were keeping watch. Early next morning they were all up, and breakfast having been taken of, one of the gang was sent by their leader to render the telegraph wires unfit for use. There are wires on both sides of the line. On the west there is a single line belonging to the railway department, while on the opposite side are four lines used for the general business of the colony. These are sustained by light iron poles. In order to destroy the railway telegraph the earthenware insulators were broken, and the line fell to the ground. A great deal more damage was done, however, to the other lines, as the ruffians took some stout limbs and smashed seven or eight of the cast iron poles, and then twisted the wires into an inextricable maze. The Kellys appeared to be very uneasy when the trains passed up and down the line. The passengers were plainly seen from the homestead looking at the broken telegraph wires. It was not until afternoon, however, that a train stopped and a man got out. He proved to be a line repairer sent down from Benalla to see what was wrong. As soon as the train passed out of sight the man was made prisoner and locked up inside the storeroom. When this was done, Ned Kelly went to Mr McCaulay and asked him to write a cheque for him on the National Bank of Euroa. This McCaulay bravely refused to do,
He was at no risk and he knew it
but in searching the desk Kelly found a cheque for £4 and some odd shillings. He said this would answer his purpose well enough. The gang now prepared to make a start, Kelly saying they were going into the township, and that everyone including Mr McCaulay would have to be locked up during the gang’s absence. One of the gang, a man named Byrne,
A loyal brave friend who would not depart the colony until all concerned could set sail together
was to stay behind as sentry over them, and in order to secure their quietness one of the prisoners was taken out and kept covered by Byrne’s rifle. The clear intimation was that if any of the party attempted to escape this man would be shot.
The ruffians then left the station, Ned Kelly driving a spring cart, Dan Kelly driving the hawker’s cart, the third man accompanying them on horseback.
ROBBERY OF THE EUROA BANK
The bank was closed at the usual business hour, 3 o’clock, and at a quarter to 4 o’clock the two clerks, Messrs Booth and Bradley, were engaged in balancing their books, while Mr Scott, the manager, was in his room close by. A knock was heard on the door, and Mr Booth asked Mr Bradley, who was nearest the door, to open it and see who it was. On the door being opened a bushman presented a cheque for £4, saying he wanted it cashed. He was told it was too late, and he then asked to see Mr Scott the manager. Mr Bradley said it was too late for that day, as all the cash was locked up. The man then pushed his way in, saying, “I am Ned Kelly.” He was immediately followed by another of the gang, a young man wearing a grey striped Crimean shirt and new lavender tie, and both men drew their revolvers, forcing the clerks to go to the manager’s room which was just behind the banking chamber. As soon as they got in Ned Kelly ordered Mr Scott to go and tell the females in the house what visitors they had and to bring them back.
No. First, E. Kelly requested money, was given £300 in cash and told there were no more—a lie, as E. Kelly knew.
Thus was soon assembled Mr Scott, Mrs Scott, her family of five children, Mrs Scott’s mother, two female servants.
She flirted with him, a married woman. She thought him very handsome, better than her own husband that was clear. It was her that found the key to the safe and give it to E. Kelly. Afterwards Mrs Scott never did stop saying what a polite and dignified gentleman Mr Kelly was, she did not have much luck with the husband of her own. He was a short bald-headed little fellow.
[Several lines here obliterated completely.]
After some little delay and hesitation Mr Bradley handed over the keys,
A lie, as is proven above, it was the Missus give up the key
and Kelly then proceeded to search the strong chest. He took all the money and notes out of it and placed it on the counter, there was about £1,900 in notes and £300 in gold. Ned Kelly then went outside and brought in a small gunnybag, into which he stuffed the notes and gold. Turning to Mr Scott, he said “You have a buggy in the yard. You had better put a horse in it as I have to take you all a little way into the bush and the buggy will be more comfortable for the women than the carts we have.”
Mr Scott said his groom was away, and Kelly thereupon went outside and harnessed the buggy himself. The whole party then went into the back yard where the hawker’s wagon was standing. Mr Booth, Mr Bradley and three of the children were put in the wagon in charge of Dan Kelly. Mrs Scott and her mother and the two other children and one of the servants were placed in the manager’s trap, which Mrs Scott was ordered to drive. The other cart was driven by Ned Kelly and in it was placed Mr Scott and one of the servants. Thus did the gang steal not only the bank’s gold but twelve people, driving them out of the main street of Euroa, which was very quiet on account of there being a funeral in the town that afternoon.
And whose idea was that, I wonder?
They drove rapidly to Faithfull’s Creek Station. Here the women were allowed to go on to the house, and Byrne, who had been sentry, allowed the captives to come outside.
At about a quarter to nine the ruffians prepared to head back into the bush, but before doing so they locked up the entire party with the exception of McCaulay. Kelly directed him to keep the prisoners for three hours longer, and at the same time impressed on him that the gang would be in the vicinity, and if he let any of them free then he would be held responsible for it. Kelly and his mates then rode off in the direction of Violet Town.
A WARNING IGNORED
The particulars at hand show not only that the offenders have performed a daring exploit, but also that they feel themselves masters of the situation.
So they were—and are!
That they have outwitted the police is obvious, and until some explanation is given, the public cannot fail to hold the opinion that the outrage should have been easily prevented. It has been stated in the press more than once that the gang would in all probability stick up and rob some bank, and thus good warning was given to the authorities. There are 100 members of the police force exclusively engaged in hunting these criminals, and while their performance is giving cause for jubilation in certain quarters, respectable citizens can only look u
pon their failure with despair.
At Faithfull’s Creek we was tried before a jury of our peers you would not know it from the papers.
There was 12 men taken captive and Joe Byrne were by my side to guard them we was all squeezed into a slab hut 20 ft. × 12 ft. which were normally used for holding tools & provisions. It were a hot still night the men was busy on the harvest but this year they was using a mechanical reaper & binder that had some trouble with its innards and that were the overseer McCaulay’s complaint that I were causing more trouble than the adjectival reaper & binder. It were McCaulay who took the best seat for himself a rack toothed old iron skeleton of ancient patent thus he lounged in the corner until I kicked him out saying I were the overseer now many is the secret smile this provoked amongst the men.
The so called MISTER FITZGERALD normally occupied that seat but he did not complain he had known me all my life. Old Snorer were Fitzgerald’s nickname he were a mate of Harry Power & Billy Skilling and had a well earned reputation for finding the laziest job on any station. When his seat were taken Snorer found a corner atop 2 bags of chaff and there he stayed the night sleeping v. loud & comfortable indeed.
Jimmy Gloster the hawker were another prisoner he were still playing his pugnacious part acting as my mortal enemy.
Peter Chivers were a posh spoken labourer with big muttonchop whiskers he were called the Moth because if you lit a lantern he wd. appear he were often in Mother’s shebeen but no one feels natural sympathy for a murderer and in this there were no difference between the Moth and them that only seen my likeness in the newspaper. There were also present a cockney mechanic for the reaper & binder name of Leeves and 6 casual labourers from the Wimmera it were very clear none of them relished the prospect of being locked up with the Mansfield Murderers.
There were also one fellow very broad of shoulder with his hair parted down the middle his moustaches waxed his eyes fixed on me from the minute I come in the hut and while his mates was all concerned about their comfort for the night he done nothing more than lean against the wall to stare. When everyone were settled when even the reaper & binder mechanic had been granted a place to sit it were the man with the waxed moustache who spoke up very bluntly.