by Peter Carey
Come back I cried but she did not turn her head held high she seemed a girl no longer but a stranger cruel & proud. I squatted on the dry summer grass for that moment when she wd. relent. I glimpsed her pretty white ankle as she climbed through McBean’s barbed wire fence then she disappeared into the scrub and when Kate drove the spring cart round from behind a stand of wattles your mother were in it and I called out her name but it were caught on the wind and blown back in my throat.
I did not know she abandoned me till the week had passed my sister Maggie discovered £200 in £5 and £10 notes amongst the dregs of the last supper there were no clue if the remainder were still buried or if Mary had took it with her. She were the only one that knew its hiding place.
Hell’s curse to her. This I thought and worse besides it does not mean I did not love her the very light of my life were stolen away my baby vanished but I remained at my station that is the agony of the Captain if rats is tearing at his guts still must he secure the freedom of his mother and all them men in gaol. I fought with everyone I were in torment from all sides then next week a telegram were sent care of Kate from Port Melbourne WILL WAIT 5 DAYS 23 NOTT STREET.
The air in the North East were hot & still as a baker’s oven the white ants flying around my beard crawling in my ears & up my nose I were the monitor once more making fresh ink from McCracken’s powder nothing give me no relief but the ceaseless labour with my pen I wrote 30 pages to your mother explaining why I could not yet depart they was dispatched by post to 23 Nott Street.
The threatened 5 days come and went I could not bear to be inside my skin. The boys was filled with pity but when night come they was weary from hard days working in the shadeless paddocks they snored like bullockies in the stinking hot nights I wrote another letter 58 pages long this one for the attention of the government if I were ignorant & unlettered as is claimed then so be it but I made known the earliest days of my life showing the history of the police and their mistreatment of my family.
My letter to Mary were returned ADDRESSEE UNKNOWN the police done this I know my mail were tampered with. On the same day come a tearful letter from Nott Street she was in torment not having heard from me she were sailing to San Francisco. To Hell with all traps I hate them. Everything I had they took from me.
On the 7th of February 1879 the Kelly Gang rode to Jerilderie to renew our cash reserves from the coffers of the Bank of New South Wales. My 58 pages to the government was secured around my body by a sash so even if I were shot dead no one could be confused as to what my corpse would say if it could speak.
It would be hard to find so much as a Chinaman who has not heard how the Kellys controlled Jerilderie for an entire weekend. Personally I read in 6 different newspaper accounts that we planned it better than a military campaign. Well it is no good having a dog & barking too so I will stick this one cutting down for you but please imagine my feelings during the events here described. My 58 pages was pinching & cutting me I could feel them words being tattooed onto my living skin.
The Jerilderie Gazette, Feb. 16, 1879
The Kellys at Jerilderie
IT APPEARED THAT NED AND DAN KELLY CALLED ON SATURDAY night at Mrs Davidson’s Woolpack Inn, where they had a great many drinks. Ned Kelly entered into conversation very freely with the barmaid, informing her that they had come from the back-blocks of the Lachlan. They asked a number of questions of the barmaid respecting Jerilderie. Ultimately the conversation turned on the Kellys. When the strangers asked what did the people in Jerilderie say about the Kellys they were informed that the Jerilderie people thought them very brave. The barmaid sang, by way of amusement, “The Kellys have made another escape.” After several more drinks the Kellys engaged two beds, and said they would take a ride into Jerilderie and return again.
THE ATTACK
After midnight on Saturday the police barracks were surrounded by Ned Kelly, Dan Kelly, Hart and Byrne. One of the gang shouted out—“Police! Police! Get up, there is a great row at Davidson’s Hotel.” Constable Richards, who was sleeping in a room at the rear, got up and went in the direction of the sound. In the meantime Constable Devine had got on his trousers and opened the front door. The two police were then confronted by Kelly, presenting two revolvers saying, “Hands up, I’m Kelly,” and in an instant the other outlaws came up with their revolvers.
The two policemen being secured, they were guarded by two of the gang while the other two compelled Mrs Devine to go with them (in her night-dress) and show them where the arms etc. were stored. They kept strict watch till morning, when they locked the police in the cells, and kept sentry over the premises on Saturday and Sunday night.
On Sunday morning Mass was celebrated at the Courthouse, distant 100 yards from the barracks, and as it is usual on these occasions for Mrs Devine to get the Courthouse ready for the service. About 10 a.m. she did so, but was accompanied by Dan Kelly.
During Sunday the blinds of the barracks were all down. The two Kellys dressed out in police uniform, and during the day frequently walked from the barracks to the stable.
During the time the police were locked up Ned Kelly conversed freely with Devine about the shooting of the three Constables, and stated that Kennedy fought to the last, but he denied he cut off his ear. Kelly asked Devine if there was a printer in the town; that he wanted to see him very particularly, as he wanted him to print hand-bills and a history of his life. Kelly also read to Mrs Devine several pages of what he wanted printed, but Mrs Devine could not remember anything about it on Tuesday.
Kelly also told Devine that he intended shooting him and Richards,
I would never kill them but it were essential they obey
but Mrs Devine begged them off. Ned Kelly said that if Devine had not left the force in a month he would return and shoot him.
On Sunday night Edward Kelly again rode up to Davidson’s Hotel where he had a great many drinks,
If 2 be a great number then he does not lie
and entered freely into conversation with the barmaid. He stopped at the hotel until midnight, when he returned to the barracks. During Sunday night two of the gang would sleep while the other two kept watch, and so on until morning.
On Sunday the revolvers were cleaned, every bullet being extracted and the weapons carefully reloaded for the dangerous work of the next day, which, we are glad to say, terminated without loss of life. Early on Monday morning Byrne brought two horses to be shod, and Hart bought some meat in the butcher’s shop. A little later Byrne went into one of the shops and bought a number of articles.
THE SURPRISE
No one in the town had the slightest idea that the Kellys were in Jerilderie. Several persons saw Ned and Dan Kelly, dressed in police uniform, in company with Constable Richards, coming down the town about 11 a.m. on Monday, but had not the slightest idea they were the Kellys. They were taken for fresh police, and certainly from their outward appearance they looked to all intents and purposes like Constables, more especially since they were seen with Constable Richards.
The townspeople could not realise the idea that the Kellys were here until they saw the telegraph poles being cut down, and Ned Kelly walking into the front of the Telegraph Office, revolver in hand.
Shortly after 11 a.m. Ned and Dan Kelly, with Constable Richards, entered the Royal Mail Hotel. Poor Richards was compelled to introduce the Kellys to Cox, the landlord of the hotel, and Ned Kelly explained that he wanted the bar parlour for a few hours, as he was going to rob the bank and intended to fill the room with any townspeople who happened along. The astonished Mr Cox himself was the first prisoner placed in the room, and for the next hour everybody who came to the hotel was marched into the same room till it was crowded. Then Byrne was despatched to the bank to fetch over the staff of that institution.
BANK TELLER LYVING’S NARRATIVE
About 10 minutes past twelve on Monday morning I was sitting at my desk in the bank when I heard footsteps approaching me from the direction of the back door. I at f
irst took no notice, thinking it was the manager, Mr Tarleton. The footsteps continued approaching, when I turned round on the office stool and noticed a man. I immediately accosted the fellow, who looked rather stupid, as if he had been drinking.
He were stone cold sober of course he were acting the part
On asking him who he was and what right he had to enter the bank by the back way, he levelled a revolver at me, answered that he was Kelly, and ordered me to bail up. The fellow, who afterwards turned out to be Byrne, ordered me to deliver up what firearms I had.
Young Rankin then came in and Byrne ordered us both to come with him to Cox’s Hotel. Here we met Ned Kelly who asked for Mr Tarleton. We then went back to the bank but could not find the manager in his room.
Ned Kelly then said to me, “You had better go and find him.” I then searched and found the manager in his bath. I said to him, “We are stuck up; the Kellys are here, and the police are also stuck up.”
Byrne then got Hart and left him in charge of the manager, who was subsequently taken over to the room where all the others were kept prisoner.
Ned Kelly then took me to the bank. He said, “You must have £10,000 in the bank here.” I then handed him the teller’s cash, amounting to £691.
Kelly asked if we had more money, and was answered “No.” Kelly then obtained the teller’s revolver, and again requested more money. He then found the treasury drawer and insisted on it being opened. One of the keys was given to him, but the manager had the second key and so he could not open it.
Byrne then wanted to break it open with a sledgehammer, but Kelly brought the manager from the Royal Mail Hotel and demanded the key. The drawer was thus opened and the sum of £1,450 was taken out and placed in a bag.
Kelly then took down a large deed box. He then expressed his intention of burning all the books in the office. The whole party then went into the Royal Mail Hotel. Daniel Kelly was in the hotel, and Ned Kelly took two of the prisoners out to the back of the hotel and burnt three or four of the bank books.
Now the bank were robbed but this were not the main purpose of my visit I come to Jerilderie determined to have 500 copies of my letter printed this would be a great profit to Mr Gill the editor of THE JERILDERIE GAZETTE.
Up to that day Gill’s only importance were to make public the price of cows in calf and so called GENERAL SERVANTS I come to elevate him to a higher calling. HE WOULD PRINT THE TRUTH THEN MY MOTHER WOULD BE RELEASED FROM GAOL. As soon as Ellen Kelly were reunited with her 9 mo. old babe I would be free to follow Mary Hearn and once I found her I would never let her out of my sight again I would walk on hot coals or cross the River Styx if need be I would cry a go and leave the banks & government alone.
By far my most important business in Jerilderie were to seek out Mr Gill so once the bank were safely robbed I retired into the strongroom to change out of my policeman’s uniform. When lacing my boots I heard men’s voices in the banking chamber they was crying Who is there and so I come to educate them. I were most amused to see a fat old pig he must of weighed 18 stone. At his side were a long thin streak of bird manure he had a bald head his bony chin 1/2 hid beneath a large moustache.
I am Ned Kelly said I then watched the power of fame suck both men’s eyes until they bulged identically. I raised my revolver and the fat cove turned to run I called I would shoot him in the arse his prize possession. The fat one baulked the thin one bolted but as the telegraph lines was cut I were not very much concerned.
I bet you is a Justice of the Peace I said to the remaining prisoner I would lay 100 quid on it.
I have that honour Sir.
And your mate Jack Spratt is a J.P. as well?
No Sir.
What is he?
O that is Mr Gill the editor of our newspaper.
The only man in Jerilderie I wanted and he were now escaping up the centre of the dusty road. I am going to shoot you I told the J.P. I were v. angry & chased him back into the pub.
Joe Byrne then quickly trailed me out into the hot and empty street but Gill was already vanished. Joe were eff and ess he were most annoyed on my behalf.
Thats where the b–––––d is hiding Ned.
He indicated a wide verandaed building its nose were sticking out into the street where it did not belong. The sign said JERILDERIE GAZETTE we went straight to it but it were a ship abandoned the skipper & sailors taken to the boats. On the bridge we found racks of type alongside a shining black patent press.
Damn it Captain we will print it ourselves.
Since Mary’s departure Joe were steady as a rock he had a wooden box of yen pok which he smoked in fair to moderate quantity there were nothing he would not do to assist. Said he Don’t you worry mate I’ll get that teller from the bank he reckons that he’s got the School Certificate.
5 minutes later he escorted Mr Lyving into my presence I ordered him to set my letter into type. He were of a tall & manly build but when he took the compositor’s board from Joe his hand were shaking he peered blindly at the slugs of type and I understood he could not read them back to front no more than I could.
Don’t get yourself upset I’ll find the adjectival printer.
Joe Byrne departed the township on horseback he knew the importance of the document. I held my gun on Mr Lyving spelling out the required letters so he could find them faster but it were no good he were a dunce. The clock struck 4 with no more than 20 words having been completed. I were upset I confess it and I was loudly persuading the teller to increase his labour when a plain trim woman arrived at the flywire door. Behind her stood Joseph Byrne red as a perch the sweat dripping off his nose.
I got the wife said he.
Mrs Gill come through the door when she saw Mr Lyving she sucked in her breath and clucked her tongue.
I said I wished a urgent job of printing done.
She didnt hear me but begun to rouse on poor Lyving saying her husband would be in an awful temper when he heard he been fiddling with his fonts.
Mrs Gill said I.
It takes a 5 yr. apprenticeship to learn to set the forms.
Mrs Gill we need a urgent job of printing done.
Then tell him leave the fonts alone said she. If you give me the copy my husband will print it for you when he returns.
I don’t have a copy its the only one.
It is called the copy even if there are no others now give it to me please for I have a cake in the oven and it will burn if I am long away. What is the name asked she picking up a receipt book off the counter.
It is Ned Kelly.
Whether she were deaf or daft I do not know but my name had no effect on her. How many pages are there Mr Kelly?
58.
Locating a stub of pencil she licked it. Received from Edward Kelly said she 58 pages of copy.
She were very diligent I will say that for her she had to know how I wished the pamphlets stitched & bound all this wrote on the receipt. She said she would require a 5 pound deposit so I give it to her and she wrote down that I had.
Now said she you must give me the copy.
I could not believe it said Joe Byrne the Captain gives her all his pages. It were bail up your money or your life so the old bitch robs Ned Kelly and he give her all his golden pages.
That were Joe to a T he never saw no good in anyone.
The Jerilderie Gazette, Feb. 16, 1879
The Kelly Gang’s Departure from Jerilderie
PRIOR TO HIS DEPARTURE, KELLY WENT INTO MCDOUGAL’S HOTEL. At this time the bar was crowded with strangers. Where they came from, and where they went afterwards, no-one knows, but there cannot be any doubt that the gang was assisted here on Monday by their “sympathisers.”
At the hotel Kelly shouted and paid for drinks. He said that he had a great many friends—and if anyone tried to shoot him it would be quickly revealed who was on his side. He said “Anyone could shoot me, but if a shot was fired, the people of Jerilderie would swim in their own blood.”
On tak
ing leave, Kelly removed two bottles of brandy, which he paid for. Before he mounted his horse he said he would take his own life before he would allow the police to shoot him. He added that he was not afraid to die at any time, that all that he had on his conscience was the shooting, in self-defence, of three – – – – – – unicorns. A short time after this Kelly got on his horse, and with Hart galloped off, singing “Hurrah for the good old times of Morgan and Ben Hall!” the strangers giving a cheer.
The outlaws went on the Deniliquin Road a short distance, but suddenly wheeled around in the direction of Wunnamurra, joining Byrne and Dan Kelly about a mile from town, the last two men having charge of the money taken from the bank—which was securely fixed on a spare horse.
2 weeks later I come to collect what were due & owing Jerilderie were dark as we walked the horses along an echoing lane between a grain merchant and the GAZETTE building. If there were a police guard at the GAZETTE he had gone to bed so Joe and me stood in our saddles & climbed on the veranda roof. Twice my spurs clattered on the tin roof but Mr Gill & his Missus didnt wake until the blue flare of Joe Byrne’s lucifer shone through their lids.
Its him said Mrs Gill he’s in.
By then I had my gun against her husband’s bony skull he werent going to run off this time.
Give me your gun Mr Gill.
Gill pulled at the sheets like reins.
No gun said he.
I retrieved the police issue whistle from the nail beside the bed. Hand over the adjectival gun I’m sure they give you one.
His bony jaw were set his eyes was bulging it were his wife who reached beneath his pillow & the husband watched with angry eyes as she delivered a Webley revolver into my care.
Gill blurted he had not printed my document.
Then you shall do it now said I and stuck the Webley in my belt.
I cannot God help me its not my fault.
Mr Kelly said the snubnosed woman here is your £5 please take it back.
Listen Missus you get your old man out of bed and tell him to print my letter or I will spread him like dung in a paddock.
