Kelly then said he would let him off this time, at the same time praising his own leniency, by saying not one man in a hundred would have dealt so leniently with him, after the manner in which he had behaved. Dan Kelly was evidently eager for blood, as he expressed a strong wish to put a bullet through "the wretch." Gloster was then marched up to the store-room, and locked up with the other prisoners. The four ruffians then proceeded to ransack the hawker's cart, and provide themselves with a new fit out; they made regular bush-dandies of themselves, and helped themselves pretty freely to the contents of the scent-bottles which they found amongst the stock. They also took what fire-arms he had. Before going to bed for the night, the Kellys opened the door of the store-room, and let the prisoners out for a little while to get some fresh air, but at the same time holding their revolvers in their hands and keeping a sharp look-out after them all. The Kellys had frequent conversations with their prisoners in a most friendly manner, and conversed freely on any subject. All night long two of the outlaws kept guard, whilst the others slept. Tuesday morning they were up early; they appeared to keep a good watch on the approaches to the homestead, so that no information would reach Euroa that would interfere with the successful carrying out of their plans of robbing the National Bank.
About two o'clock on Tuesday afternoon a party of four men, named Mr. McDougal, Mr. Dudley, Mr. Casement, and Mr. Jennant, who were returning from the Strathbogie ranges, were "bailed up," and made prisoners. Mr. McDougal's account of what took place is as follows:—"We had just reached the railway gates where there is a crossing to Mr. Younghusband's station, three of us driving in a spring-cart, and Mr. Jennant on horse-back. The gates were closed, and nothing was farther from our thoughts than the idea of the Kelly gang being close to us; we were laughingly speculating with each other on the chances of the gates, which are on private property, leading into the run, being locked. Mr. Jennant got down from his horse, and finding them unlocked, was opening them, when two men suddenly made their appearance, one coming from behind us on horse-back, and the other advancing on foot in front. Both presented revolvers, and called on us to 'bail up.'
"The one on horse-back, who, I afterwards learned, was Ned Kelly, cried out, 'Surrender, or you will be shot.' As both men looked like mounted policemen in plain clothes, and held up handcuffs and accused us of stealing the trap we were driving, we at first thought they were troopers, and Mr. Dudley called out, 'What right have you to arrest us?' and appeared as if he was not going to take any notice of their summons. Ned Kelly then rode close up to him, shouted in a violent manner, at the same time presenting a revolver at his head, and said, 'I'll shoot you dead on the spot if you give me any cheek.' Fearing Kelly was going to carry out his threat, I interposed and asked Dudley to surrender quietly, as it was no use resisting, and said to Kelly, 'You would not shoot an old man!' Kelly replied, 'I won't harm the old man if he surrenders quietly.' A tall young man (Byrne) told us to drive up to the homestead. As we approached the gate leading to the station, one of the station hands opened it, and said in a laughing manner, pointing to Ned Kelly and addressing us, 'Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Edward Kelly.' This was the first intimation who our captors were, and the information was by no means a pleasant one, and did not tend to re-assure us; in fact we were all greatly frightened, and for myself I may say my heart was in my mouth. When we got to the store-room we found Dan Kelly and Hart there guarding the place, in which the manager Mr. Macauley and about twenty others had been imprisoned for twenty-six hours.
"The store-room was a wooden building about twenty yards away from the house; it only had one door and window, near each other, and was easily guarded. Our party of four were put into the room with the others, and, there being no ventilation, we soon found the atmosphere very hot and close. In the meantime the gang had thrown everything out of our cart, they took possession of a rifle and double-barrelled gun, eighty bullets, and some powder and caps.
"Our imprisonment lasted eight hours, during which time, however, several of us were permitted to go out occasionally to get some fresh air, but we were never allowed out of sight. Only the men were put in confinement, the women being allowed to walk about, and they were in no way molested, but from some remark I heard dropped by Dan Kelly (who appeared the greatest ruffian of the lot and a thorough type of a larrakin), he did not desire to leave them alone; he said something about having a lark with the women, but was apparently restrained by his brother. During the time we were in the store-room four trains passed, two each way, and when any of these were heard approaching, we were kept close and told not to make any noise."
This statement of Mr. McDougal, almost verbatim as related, was given by him to the reporter of theMelbourne Arguson the evening of the day after the occurrence.
The next step taken by the gang, after capturing these men, and openly stating their intention of robbing the bank at Euroa, was, about half-past two o'clock, to destroy the telegraph line, leaving their prisoners guarded by Joe Byrne. They got tomahawks, and cut down one of the telegraph posts, tearing away all the wire for a considerable length, so that it could not be repaired by the usual quantity of wire carried by a line repairer; they cut down the posts on both sides of the line, and scattered the wire in every direction. Whilst doing this, a further capture of four men who were working on the line as gangers, and who saw them cutting down the wires, was made. These men walked towards the bushrangers to ask them what they meant by cutting down the wires, when Ned Kelly called on them to "bail up." They did so, when told who their captors were, without making any resistance, and were at once marched up to the store-room, into which they were put with the rest of the prisoners.
At half-past three o'clock Ned and Dan Kelly, with Steve Hart, started for Euroa, all dressed in new clothes stolen from Gloster the hawker's cart. They plainly stated they were going to rob the National Bank, but before leaving they got a cheque on this bank signed by the manager Mr. Macauley for a small amount, about three pounds. Ned Kelly drove Gloster's cart, with a hood over it. Dan Kelly took McDougal's, and Hart rode one of the horses. They turned their own horses into the paddock before leaving. Joe Byrne, left in charge of the prisoners, was heavily armed, having two revolvers in his belt, a double-barrelled gun in his hand, and two rifles placed within easy reach. He marched round the building whilst all the prisoners were locked in, and was evidently most watchful.
Whilst the three were away from the station a train stopped in front of the door; a man, who proved to be a line repairer, named Watts, jumped down from the train, coming from the north; he had been sent to repair the line, and he evidently saw that it had not been injured by accident. He walked towards the station for assistance, and to ascertain who had caused the break in the line, when he was suddenly pulled up by Byrne and ordered to approach him, and he also was put into the store-room, having been first searched for fire-arms. Byrne asked him several questions as to the movements of the police and their numbers at the adjoining townships. Nothing else of note transpired during the absence of Ned and his companions from the station.
The proceedings of the three outlaws after leaving the station were as follows. It will be remembered the bank was three miles from Younghusband's station, and they left it at half-past three o'clock. These banks as a rule close about this hour, and when the outlaws reached the township the bank door was closed. It was then five minutes to four as Ned Kelly drew up the hawker's cart in front of the bank, sending his brother and Steve Hart to the back of the premises. Ned then knocked at the front-door; one of the clerks asked who was there. Kelly replied, "I have a cheque of Mr. Macauley's to change; will you please cash it?" The clerk answered, "It is after hours; and we cannot open the door now;" but Kelly begged so hard, saying it would be a great inconvenience not to get the cash that night, that the clerk opened the door and admitted him. Ned closed the door after him, and at once presented a revolver at his head, and ordered him to "bail up." At the same time Steve Hart, with a revolver in each hand, entered the back-door, and they took possession of the fire-arms that were in the bank.
Ned Kelly went in search of Mr. Scott the manager, and found him in an office adjoining the bank. He stood at the end of the table, at the same time covering Scott with a revolver, and said, "I am Ned Kelly; bail up." Mr. Scott's revolver was lying at the other end of the table, and had he picked it up, he would have been shot dead on the spot. Scott did not at first throw up his arms, but they pretty soon made him do so. Ned Kelly then went back to the bank, and left Hart in charge of Scott, and ransacked the place, and took possession of all the cash that had been in use during the day, which amounted to between £300 and £400 in notes, gold, and silver.
Kelly next went over the private apartments where Mr. Scott's family and servants were, and Scott cautioned him concerning his behaviour towards them, thereupon Hart at once pointed his revolver at his head, and told him to be careful how he addressed Kelly. Mrs. Scott was not the least alarmed when she found out who her visitors were, and began chaffing Kelly, and telling him he was a much better-looking man than she fancied he would be; but he was most polite towards her, and told her he wanted her with all the family to get ready to take a drive to Mr. Younghusband's station, three miles off. Mrs. Scott at once obeyed his commands, and told all the children and servants to put on their hats, as they were all obliged to go for a drive. Kelly went back into the bank, and told Scott he knew there was more money in the bank, and he insisted upon having it. The accountant opened the safe, and Kelly took £1500 in notes, 300 sovereigns, £90 in silver, and thirty ounces of gold-dust. He then went into the strong-room, but left the bills and securities undisturbed. Kelly often said whilst in the bank, that it was no use resisting them, as he had eight armed men outside the bank, and he could call them to his assistance; but this was only "blow."
Mrs. Scott afterwards told me that when Kelly spoke to her, she could hardly believe he could be the person he represented himself to be; he was a tall, handsome man, well dressed (with the hawker's clothes on), and spoke so kindly to her. She once or twice said, "Oh, nonsense, you are not that blood-thirsty villain you have been represented to be." I might here state, that after the murders at the Wombat, the description of the outlaws was circulated all over the colony, and special measures were taken to protect the banks, and all kinds of weapons were supplied to their officers. It was feared that they would stick up one of these institutions, and Euroa was one of the most likely to be attacked; and yet the ease with which the whole affair was conducted appears to an outsider almost ridiculous.
The gang, having secured all the cash and arms in the bank, commenced to make preparations for their departure, and return to Mr. Younghusband's station. Provision had to be made for the carting away of the whole household, which consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Scott, two bank clerks, Mrs. Scott's mother, and seven children and two servants. Kelly went to Scott, and said, "You have such a large household, I must have your buggy; go and put your horse in it." Scott refused to do this, saying his groom was out, and told Kelly he had better do it himself. Kelly replied, "Well, I will do it myself." He accordingly harnessed the horse, and put Mrs. Scott and family into the buggy, she driving it; and before starting away Ned Kelly, seeing that Mrs. Scott was so little scared at their presence, said to her, "Now, none of your larks."
He then told Mr. Scott he would have to go with him in the hawker's waggon; but before leaving the bank, Mr. Scott invited the bushrangers to have a drink of whisky with him, which they accepted, making Mr. Scott drink first, for fear of the liquor being drugged. They all drank each other's health. The remainder of the party were divided, and put equally in the three conveyances. The hawker's waggon came first, with Dan Kelly driving, next came Mrs. Scott with her own buggy, and Ned Kelly drove the other cart, with Steve Hart bringing up the rear on horse-back. When driving along, Mr. Scott and Ned Kelly had a long conversation, and he told the bank manager all about the shooting the police at the Wombat, and showed him the gold presentation watch he had taken from Sergeant Kennedy's body, and said, "It was I who shot Constable Lonergan." Scott asked Kelly what Hart would have done to him when he threatened to strike him in the bank; his reply was, "He would have shot you dead on the spot." Whilst travelling along to the station, and when about a quarter of a mile from Euroa, they had to pass the cemetery; they observed a large party of people returning from a funeral, and these people were walking towards the cavalcade.
Ned Kelly took his revolvers from his belt and looked at Mrs. Scott, with a peculiar expression on his face, as much as to say, the first person who gives the alarm will be the first to die. The return funeral party passed them without taking the least notice of them, and so they continued their journey. Mr. Scott asked Kelly which road he intended taking. Kelly replied, "Oh, the country belongs to us, we can go any road we like." Scott asked Kelly to drive, as he knew the road, but he refused this request. The road was very bad, and the cart going up a steep bank upset. Scott ran to the horse's head, and Kelly lifted out one of the servants; they got the cart up and made a fresh start. The money stolen from the bank was lying in the cart which Kelly drove. On arriving at the station, all the males were put in the store-room, and the females and children were allowed to go into the house.
It was then half-past five o'clock. The gang began to make preparations for starting off, when a train was seen approaching from Euroa. It pulled up opposite the station, with the intention of picking up the line repairer Watts, who had been left at this spot an hour or so before. Ned Kelly called out, "Here comes a special train with bobbies, but we are ready for them, we don't care how many there are, we can fight them." The train after waiting a short time moved on; the driver, not seeing Watts anywhere, started for Benalla.
During the absence of the gang at Euroa Mr. McDougal suggested to some of the prisoners to make an effort to escape, as there were fifteen or sixteen axes hanging up in the store; "and," he added, "if each of us takes one, and commences chopping our way out, we can easily manage it." But the whole party declined to assist in their escape, for, said they, "some of us must be shot in the attempt." Besides, it was generally urged that they had nothing to gain by the attempt which would compensate for the great risk, and they were pretty sure to be released when the bushrangers returned from Euroa. Tea was got ready for the women and children, and Mrs. Scott appeared almost to enjoy the situation in which she found herself. The Kellys had their tea also, and then, much to the relief of those in confinement, they saw evident signs of the gang departing. The money taken from the bank was distributed amongst the gang; so also the arms taken from the prisoners and bank officials. Ned Kelly came to the store-room, and announced that they were about leaving, and warned his prisoners they were not to stir for three hours (it was then about half-past eight); he said, "If one of you leaves this spot within three hours I will shoot that man dead. You cannot any of you escape me in this country, I can track you anywhere, and I can assure you I will keep my word." He then called upon Mr. Macauley to come to the front, and he said to him, "I will hold you responsible for the escape of any of these prisoners until the period I have named has expired. Mind! if you let one of them go, I will meet you some time or other, and then you may consider yourself a dead man!" Before leaving, Ned Kelly came to the door of the store-room, and asked Mr. McDougal for his watch. He handed it to him and told him it was a keepsake from his dead mother. Kelly apparently whispered and said, "No, I will never take that from you," and returned it to him, taking, instead, a watch from Mr. Macauley; and Byrne took Mr. Scott's watch from him.
The outlaws then mounted their horses, which were all splendid animals; it was then half-past eight o'clock and quite dark. Hart and Dan Kelly began to ride about, and show off on their horses, and brag about what they were going to do when they met the police. It was noticed by some of the prisoners that, when the gang returned from Euroa with their prisoners, before they came to the house, signals passed between them and Byrne, who was on guard; this was evidently pre-arranged, so as to denote all was well. After the gang left, they rode off in the direction of the Strathbogie ranges, and nothing more was seen of them. The prisoners then began to discuss what had best be done; some were for starting off at once, others thought they would only be risking their lives, and it was feared the outlaws might have left one of their party to watch; so the majority decided it was safer to wait until the three hours were up.
The station hands during their confinement took the matter very easily; they were well fed, and passed away the time chiefly in playing cards, knowing nothing serious was likely to happen to them. Most of them looked upon the affair as a capital joke, which had cost them nothing but their confinement. At half-past ten o'clock they all agreed it was time to get out, which they had no difficulty in doing. Mr. and Mrs. Scott and party returned at once to Euroa, which they reached at midnight; the rest of the people stopped at the station that night, except Mr. Casement and McDougal, who went to the house of the former, who lived not far from Euroa.
It was noticed by all the prisoners, that during their imprisonment, although they were domineering in giving their orders, no attempt at violence or roughness was used towards any of them. Ned Kelly was the most communicative of the gang, and conversed freely with many of the prisoners during the day, asking questions as to the movements of the police, and talking of the kick-up which they had caused in the force. When Mr. Scott got back to Euroa at midnight, the bank was just in the same state as when he had left it—the doors all locked, and the inhabitants of the township perfectly unconscious of what had happened in the midst of them during the afternoon. Some of my readers in England may possibly not be able to grasp the matter in its true light. A few remarks in explanation of the doings of the outlaws may therefore not be out of place.
It was evident the gang knew perfectly well the ways and doings of the bank, the hour of closing, and who the occupants were. They wanted a base of operations, where they could confine any one who happened to see them, so that no information might be given concerning them. They selected Younghusband's station, which from its position was well adapted for their purpose. They wanted food for their horses, and rest for themselves, as they would probably have to ride day and night before they reached their mountain retreat. They knew the police would endeavour to follow their tracks, and they had to keep on the alert. But every pass and track in the mountains was known, and every hiding-place familiar to the gang. After an exploit of this kind they seldom rode together. Each man took his own line to the first of several appointed meeting-places. If something occurred to prevent any one of them from putting in an appearance there, they made for the second, and so on until they met. When robbing the bank, they fixed on a time when they knew it would be closed, and they could remain inside without raising any suspicion. Fortune favoured them in a marvellous manner. The hawker, coming to Younghusband's, gave them an opportunity of dressing themselves so respectably, that no one meeting them would take them to be bushrangers; the carts also were of great use to them, and they could scarcely have carried out their plans without them. No doubt all the prisoners who were put into the store-room will be looked upon as cowards, but it should be remembered that it was a well-known fact that, after the Wombat murders, the gang were only too anxious to shed blood, especially Dan Kelly, who was the most blood-thirsty of the lot, and on the least provocation would have done so, his brother frequently having to restrain him from shooting any one he met in the bush.
The prisoners were all taken by surprise. Although they may have had fire-arms near them, the moment they attempted to touch them they would have been shot dead on the spot. Besides, in the store-room the gang had several of their sympathizers who were put amongst the prisoners, so that they could give intelligence by signs to the outlaws, should a rush have been contemplated; the sympathizers were not known to the others in confinement. People in the bush, or on stations, seldom or never carry fire-arms; they have no money about them to lose, and know the bushrangers will not harm them. They do not suspect every one they meet to be a bushranger, especially fine, good-looking, and well-dressed men, as Ned Kelly and Joe Byrne were. There is no doubt the gang had great luck all that day. Their plans were well laid, and carried out splendidly. They never molested the working men or farmers, and in that way gained great sympathy amongst all classes of people, and information concerning the outlaws was withheld from the police. I have often spoken to respectable farmers, and pointed out to them that it was their duty to assist the police, and their reply was, "I want to stand aloof from everything connected with the Kellys; if they hear the police have been to my place, my stacks will be burnt down, my fences broken, and probably all my cattle and horses will be stolen." The only policeman in Euroa on the day of the robbery was absent from his station on some other duty, but had he been in barracks, he would probably not have heard of the matter until twelve o'clock at night. At daylight the police attempted to pick up the tracks of the outlaws. There were foot-prints of horses leading in every direction. The sympathizers who had been in confinement up to eleven o'clock that night, had mounted their horses, and kept riding round the station in every direction, together with the scouts who had been watching all day, one starting off in one direction and another in an opposite one, under the pretence of looking for the tracks of the offenders, whereas it was for the sole purpose of baffling the trackers when daylight came.
CHAPTER VII.
The Police at Euroa—Aaron Sherritt—Jerilderie—Capture of the Police Station and Constables—Amateur Policemen—The Royal Hotel stuck up—Raid on the Bank of New South Wales—£2000 taken—Kelly's Autobiography—His Account of the Fitzpatrick Affair—Departure of the Gang—Return to their Haunts.
The Police at Euroa—Aaron Sherritt—Jerilderie—Capture of the Police Station and Constables—Amateur Policemen—The Royal Hotel stuck up—Raid on the Bank of New South Wales—£2000 taken—Kelly's Autobiography—His Account of the Fitzpatrick Affair—Departure of the Gang—Return to their Haunts.
Veryshortly before the Euroa Bank robbery, news came to hand that the outlaws were about to make an attempt to leave Victoria, and cross the Murray into New South Wales. The description of the place of crossing and other details were given in such a circumstantial manner, that it convinced both the inspecting superintendent and the officer in charge of the district that the Kellys were to cross the Murray on the night of the 9th December 1878. The inspecting superintendent went to Albury, and he had hardly arrived there when he received a telegram, stating that the bank at Euroa had been stuck up by the outlaws. He immediately took a special train to Euroa. Before the arrival of the inspecting superintendent a party of police were on the ground, and were waiting for daylight in order to find which direction the outlaws had taken. The police had some black trackers with them, but these were of little use, being Victorian blacks, whose sense of sight and sagacity had been destroyed by drink. All day long search was made, but no trace of the outlaws could be obtained. The police were sent in every direction, trying to find out some tidings of the outlaws, but without effect. Some of the men were so knocked up from want of sleep, and the heat, that it was thought many of them would have to go into hospital. The inspecting superintendent was also exhausted with the hardships he had gone through, and was suffering from bad eyes to such an extent, that Captain Standish had to relieve him.
The day after the Bank robbery took place Captain Standish started for Euroa. When he got there he found the inspecting superintendent so ill that he telegraphed for me to come up and take his place, ordering me to report myself at Euroa that evening. I did so. On my arrival I heard the statements concerning the robbery, and endeavoured to obtain all the information about the outlaws I could possibly gather. The whole community were perfectly scared at what had taken place, and rumours were coming in from all quarters concerning persons being seen answering the descriptions of the outlaws.
When the bushrangers appeared at Euroa they were riding three bay horses and one grey. Every report that came to hand had to be inquired into and reported on, otherwise complaints were made that the police took no notice of information furnished to them. The most absurd statements were made, too ridiculous to be noticed. For instance, a squatter sent in word to Benalla that the Kelly gang were shooting parrots near his garden. The messenger who conveyed the information was told to go and inform the police as fast as his horse could carry him. The officer in charge of the district sent the messenger back, and told him to tell his master that he must be mad to send in such an absurd message. The officer sent a constable to inquire who the people were that were shooting birds, and found them to be a survey party. The squatter was under the impression that no inquiries were made concerning his report, and afterwards wished to bring a charge against the officer for not capturing the Kellys when he had sent word to him where they were to be found, and to this day he believes that if steps had been taken on that occasion the outlaws would then have been arrested.
On another occasion a message was wired one Sunday morning to Melbourne to the late Chief Justice, that the gang had been in Mrs. Rowe's garden cutting cabbages, near Euroa, and similar reports were daily being made, all of which had to be inquired into. At the same time information would be sent in that the Kellys were to be found at the head of some of the rivers, in a country quite unoccupied, and that they were living on wild cattle, away from all their friends, some 150 miles from Benalla. From time to time reliable information was obtained that they were seen in different parts, and the spies and agents employed were hearing of them.
aaron
Aaron Sherritt.
The first active step I took, after I had been round the district and had obtained all the information I could, was to go to Beechworth to meet a well-known friend and bush telegraph of the gang, named Aaron Sherritt. He was a splendid man, tall, strong, hardy, but a most outrageous scoundrel. It was well known that he and Joe Byrne and Ned Kelly had been connected with each other in no end of horse-stealing cases, and that after the murders he had befriended the gang before they went to the Murray, as before stated. He had supplied them with food, and guarded them against surprise. I had never seen Sherritt until that evening, and somehow or other I made a most wonderful impression upon him. I had some drink with him, and saw that my influence over him was very great. After being in his company a couple of hours, and undertaking to give him the £4000 reward that had been offered for the apprehension of the outlaws, I got him to promise he would show me where they were to be found. He told me Joe Byrne and Dan Kelly had called at his house two days before, and wanted him to accompany them to New South Wales, where they intended to rob another bank; but he was not certain which place it would be, he thought they were going to Goulburn, at least they told him so. He said he declined going with them, and they pressed him very hard, but he refused; they told him they wanted him to do the scouting for them. We doubted the truth of this statement, but at once made inquiries, and found that Joe Byrne and Dan Kelly had been seen by others going in the direction of the Murray a couple of days before, and they had called for supplies at a shanty where Byrne was well known. This information was furnished to the police on the New South Wales side of the Murray, and they were told that Goulburn was the probable place they would make for, as the Kellys had a number of relations there. About a week after this, news was telegraphed that the outlaws had stuck up the township of Jerilderie, and robbed the bank, on the 11th February 1879.
Jerilderie is a town about sixty miles from the Murray river on the New South Wales side of the border. It had a population at that time of about 300 inhabitants; there were three or four hotels, one bank, a police station with two mounted constables named Devine and Richards, and a telegraph station. The police station is situated some little distance outside the township.
About midnight on Saturday the 9th of February, Ned Kelly, Joe Byrne, Steve Hart, and Dan Kelly surrounded the police station, which was all in darkness, the constables having retired to their beds, when they were awoke by some one calling out—"Constable Devine, there is a drunken man at Davidson's hotel in the township who has committed a murder. Get up at once all of you." Constable Richards, who was up first, came outside, followed immediately afterwards by Devine, both being undressed and unarmed. Ned Kelly began to tell these men there was a great row in the township, and after conversing with them for some time, to make sure there were no other constables inside, he suddenly presented two revolvers at Devine's head, Joe Byrne doing the same to Constable Richards. The outlaws immediately procured the keys of the lock-up, took the two policemen and lodged them in their own watch-house, and locked the door. Having secured the constables, they attended to their horses, which had been left outside the station; they put them in the police stables, fed them well, and left them secure for the night. Whilst this was going on Ned Kelly went into the police station, secured all the arms belonging to the police, made the constable's wife and family go into one room, and placed Steve Hart as sentry over them, telling them if they gave the slightest alarm, that the two constables who were in the lock-up would be the first persons to be shot, and they themselves would also suffer the same death. The outlaws then made themselves as comfortable as they could, leaving one of their number on sentry until daylight on Sunday morning.
During all that day Mrs. Devine was allowed to go about the station as usual, so as not to raise any suspicion that anything unusual was going on. Ned Kelly ascertained from her, that it was her custom to clean out the church and prepare the place for service, and Joe Byrne was sent to this place of worship with Mrs. Devine, whilst she carried out her usual duties there. This took about half an hour, and they both returned to the station. No one called at the station during the day; had they done so, they would have been pounced upon and secured in the lock-up so as to prevent an alarm being given. The people attended service as usual, but no one came near the station.
Dan Kelly and Steve Hart had dressed themselves up in the police uniform, and walked about the station in a most conspicuous manner, and without attracting any attention. In the afternoon Joe Byrne dressed himself in police uniform, and with Steve Hart also in that dress, took Constable Richards out of the lock-up to accompany them round the town, in order that they might be made aware of the positions of hotels, bank, &c. They ordered the constable, in case any one came up and spoke to him, to introduce them as new constables about to be stationed there. Their walk lasted about an hour, and they again returned to the police barracks. Nothing of any note took place during the evening and Sunday night. Monday morning Joe Byrne, in uniform, took two of their horses to be shod by the police farrier in the township; he waited until they were shod, and then took them back to the police station.
About eleven o'clock, after locking up the policeman's wife and children with Constable Devine, they took out Constable Richards. Ned Kelly and Dan Kelly dressed in uniform, and walked to the township, followed by Hart and Byrne on horse-back. They first went to the Royal Hotel, owned by a Mr. Cox, when Constable Richards introduced Ned Kelly to Mr. Cox as Ned Kelly, who told the landlord he wanted to secure some rooms in the hotel, and that he also intended robbing the bank, but he did not want to injure any one. Ned Kelly placed the other three in certain positions, and gave each of them their instructions. Hart was placed inside the large dining-room, which was used as a room of detention, and every person who came near the hotel throughout the day was placed in this room, and all prisoners captured were taken over and kept in safety in this apartment. Byrne went to the back part of the establishment and collected all the servants, and made prisoners of them.
After this was done, they devoted their attentions to the Bank of New South Wales, in which there were three officers—Mr. Jarleton, manager, Mr. Living, accountant, and Mr. Mackin, sub-accountant. Mr. Living was the only one in the bank. He heard some footsteps approaching from the back-yard, and turned round thinking it was Mr. Jarleton, when he saw a man close to him. He immediately asked this man, who had already levelled his revolver at him, who he was. His reply was "the Kelly gang," and he at once called on him to "bail up." This man afterwards turned out to be Joe Byrne. Byrne then ordered him to deliver up what fire-arms he had. Mackin, who was standing outside the bank in the street, hearing voices, went inside, and Byrne immediately ordered him to jump over the counter, at the same time pointing two revolvers at him; this order he obeyed at once. Byrne then told the two bank officials they must accompany him to Cox's hotel, remarking at the same time they had all the police stuck up. The three then went to the hotel, where they met Ned Kelly, who asked for Mr. Jarleton, and was told he was in his dressing-room. Ned Kelly and Byrne went back to the bank, but could not find him. Ned Kelly returned to Cox's and brought back Mr. Living, telling him he had better find him. Living found him in his bath, and said, "Mr. Jarleton, we are stuck up, the Kellys are here, and the police are also stuck up." Byrne then brought over Dan Kelly, and left him in the bath-room in charge of the manager. Ned then took charge of Living, led him into the bank, and asked him what money they had in their keeping. Living replied, "There is between six and seven hundred pounds." Kelly replied, "You must have at least £10,000 here." Living then handed him the teller's cash, amounting to £691.
At this time a Mr. Elliot, the local school-master, entered the bank, quite unconscious of what was going on within, when Ned Kelly covered him with two revolvers and ordered him to get over the counter. Mr. Elliot replied he was unable to get over, but Kelly pretty soon made him do so. Kelly then tried to put the money into a bag, but it not being large enough to hold it, he got a bag of his own at the hotel and put the money in that. Kelly asked Living if they had any more money, and was told they had not. Kelly then went to the safe and asked what was in it, and Living said nothing of any value. Kelly insisted upon it being opened, and Living gave him one of the keys. Byrne wished to smash the safe, but Ned Kelly brought in the manager, who had been taken over to the hotel, and compelled him to give up the second key. The safe was then opened, when the sum of £1450 was taken out and placed in the bag.
Kelly then took down a large tin box from the shelf; he was told it was full of documents which were of no use. He replied, "Then I will burn them;" but Mr. Jarleton begged of him not to do so. Kelly took out one bundle of papers and put them in his pocket. He then told Mr. Jarleton he intended burning all the books in the office; however, he left the documents in the tin box, saying, "I will return directly and examine them all." They all then went to the hotel. Dan Kelly was in the bar, and Ned took him and another of the party to the back of the premises, made a fire, and burned four of the bank-books. I might mention here that Ned Kelly always posed as a friend of the working-man, and all they wanted was bank money, and not that of private individuals; and in all their exploits, if any of the gang had taken a watch, or stolen anything from a private individual, when complained of Ned had made them return it to the person from whom it was stolen. In this manner he was looked upon as a great hero, and gained a number of sympathizers, so in burning the books of the bank he thought he was protecting the poor man, as against the bank.
About this time a Mr. Rankin and a Mr. Gill, seeing the bank door open, went in, and they were immediately followed by Ned Kelly, who ordered them to "bail up." They at once grasped the situation, Rankin running into the hotel followed by Kelly, while Gill made off in another direction. The latter was the local newspaper proprietor, the former a well-to-do merchant, and a Justice of the Peace. When Kelly got up to Rankin he asked him why he had run away when he had ordered him to stand; he caught Rankin very roughly by the collar of his coat, and ordered him into the passage away from the other prisoners, telling him to straighten himself up, as he intended to shoot him, and levelled his revolver at him. Several of the prisoners called out to Ned Kelly not to fire, and he did not do so. He then called Hart by the name of "Revenge," and ordered him to shoot the first man who showed any signs of resistance, then addressing Rankin said, "If you attempt to move, you will be the first man to be shot." Mr. Rankin was a splendid able-bodied man, but without fire-arms in his possession he was powerless, and had to submit to be thus treated. Kelly then went and directed his attention to Mr. Gill, and in company with Mr. Richards and Mr. Living went to look for him. The policeman had his revolver with him, but Kelly had previously drawn the cartridges. They sent to Gill's house, and saw his wife; Kelly said to her, "Where is your husband?" She replied, "He has run away." Kelly then said, "I have a statement here which contains a little part of my life, and I want it published by Mr. Gill, will you take it?" She declined to do so.
Mr. Living then took the paper from Kelly, promising to have it published. The bushrangers then turned their attention to the telegraph office; they removed all the clerks from the office, and took them over to the hotel and put them amongst the other prisoners. Byrne remained in the office and overhauled all the messages that had been despatched that day. Kelly then returned and found Byrne in charge; he had cut all the wires, and Ned Kelly broke the insulators with his revolver. Ned Kelly told the telegraph master, Mr. Jefferson, that if he attempted to mend the wires before next day, or offer any resistance to himself or companions, he would shoot him; he also told him that he intended to take him a few miles into the bush when he left, and then liberate him but this he did not do. Kelly informed the company who were in the hotel, that he intended sticking up the Urana coach that night, and he would shoot any one who would warn the driver, but Mr. Jarleton succeeded in dispatching a messenger to Urana directly the outlaws left, to warn the banks against surprise. But this was only a ruse on their part, they never stuck up the coach, nor went near Urana. When Mr. Jarleton was found in his bath he had just returned from a long ride of forty miles. He stated, when Living told him they were stuck up, he thought it was a hoax they were playing on him, but when he saw Kelly and Byrne with revolvers in each hand, he saw the mistake he had made. Mr. Jarleton made some inquiries of Hart as to the movements of the gang, but after answering one or two, he pointed his revolver at him, and in an angry tone replied, "You had better stop asking such questions."
Hart and Dan Kelly stood sentry a greater part of the day with a revolver in each hand, and the former evinced a great desire to shoot somebody in the room. Throughout the day every one who came near the hotel for any purpose was captured and detained. Occasionally one of the gang would take a walk up the street. Ned Kelly went into another hotel kept by a Mr. McDougall, entered into conversation with several people there, and said, "Any one can shoot me, but they would have to abide the consequences, as every inhabitant in the town would be shot."
Hart, who always was a thief and sneak, took a new saddle from a saddler's shop, and he also relieved several men of their watches, but when the owners complained to Ned Kelly and Byrne he was ordered to return them. Ned Kelly and his lieutenant Joe Byrne showed great judgment in the manner they carried out the whole affair. Ned Kelly took from McDougall's stable a blood mare, and promised to return it in three weeks, which of course he never did. He also took a saddle and bridle and pair of spurs belonging to Mr. Jarleton from the bank, also a pair of riding-trousers, gold watch and chain. This saddle was put on the blood mare, and Dan Kelly mounted it and rode away to try it, and returned shortly afterwards.
About six o'clock in the evening the gang began to make preparations for a start, but before doing so, Ned Kelly made a speech to those who had been confined in the hotel, with the evident intention of exciting pity. He said that on the occasion when Constable Fitzpatrick was wounded, he was not within 400 miles of his mother's place; he said he had stolen 400 horses from a squatter's run, named Mr. Whilty, at various times, and had sold them, but beyond this, up to the time he shot the police at the Wombat, he had not been guilty of any other crime. Kelly showed those present his revolvers, and pointed out one which he said was the property of Constable Lonergan, and further stated, that the musket with which he shot Lonergan was an old, worn-out, crooked thing. Kelly then took Constable Richards from amongst the prisoners and walked to the police station.
At about seven o'clock Byrne mounted his horse and started off alone in the direction of the Murray river, leading a pack-horse with the treasure strapped across the saddle. This was one of the policeman's horses, which they took with them. Shortly afterwards Ned Kelly mounted, leading another police horse, returned to Cox's hotel, and told all the prisoners they might go home, and he now released them. He left Constables Devine and Richards in the lock-up, with orders they were not to be released for some hours. Dan Kelly and Hart, before they left, rode up and down the chief street of the town flourishing their revolvers over their heads, and singing at the top of their voices, and then started in the same direction as the other bushrangers had done. They must have all met at some appointed place, for they called at a station some twenty miles distant from Jerilderie, and threatened to shoot the owner for something he had done against them.
When Mr. Gill bolted from the bank, he went to the creek close by, and remained hidden there all day, and until the gang left the town. Both Kellys left the township wearing the police clothing. With regard to the documents Ned Kelly left with Mr. Living for Mr. Gill to publish, it was sent to the Government of Victoria, and I read it. It was a tissue of lies from beginning to end, a wandering narrative full of insinuations and complaints against the police, and of the type familiar to all who have had experience of tales which men of the criminal stamp are in the habit of telling; it is as impossible to prevent these men from lying as it is from stealing.
According to Ned Kelly, his criminal career commenced when he was fourteen years old, and received a sentence of three months' imprisonment for using a neighbour's horse without his consent, as he put it. After this, convictions were frequent, and, says Kelly, "The police became a nuisance to the family." At one period of his life Kelly described himself as a "wandering gamester." He states in this document, "When the affray with Fitzpatrick took place, the constable came to apprehend my innocent brother Dan. My mother asked him if he had a warrant, he replied he had a telegram. My mother said to Fitzpatrick, 'If my son Ned was here he would chuck you out of the house.' Dan looked out of the window and said, 'Here he comes.' The constable turned suddenly round to look out of the window, when Dan jumped up and seized the constable, and in the scuffle Fitzpatrick was shot through his wrist."
I quote this fully because certain newspapers in the colony published statements to the effect that Fitzpatrick had acted improperly towards Kate Kelly, and that had caused Dan Kelly to shoot Fitzpatrick, and that Ned Kelly took up his sister's cause. By this means they obtained no end of sympathy from the general public, whereas there was not one word of truth in the accusation. And Ned Kelly, not only in the statement that he gave to Mr. Living, in which he said this was a pure invention, but also after his capture, stated distinctly there was not one word of truth in the accusation made against Fitzpatrick; "for," said Ned Kelly, "if there had been, I would not have been a man had I not shot him on the spot." But from Ned Kelly's own narrative it is apparent that these charges were pure inventions, made solely for the purpose of raising sympathy for these murderers. It was admitted that Fitzpatrick was resisted and assaulted while in the execution of his duty. An account is given in this statement of Ned Kelly's of the terrible tragedy at Mansfield, but it is obviously a string of falsehoods, and it would be quite improper to have it published, but he admitted that the police were not in any way the aggressors at the Wombat, but were surprised and shot down in cold blood.
The outlaws, after the Jerilderie bank robbery, evidently returned back to their mountain retreats in Victoria. No end of Bank of New South Wales notes were in circulation shortly afterwards, but the numbers of the stolen notes were not known, beyond the fact, that the head office at Sydney had sent these identical notes to Jerilderie for circulation, but no account was kept of the notes that were paid out of the bank. Hence no prosecution could be instituted, as the bank officials could not swear the notes found in the possession of the friends of the outlaws had not been paid over the counter. Notwithstanding that all the wires of the telegraph lines were cut at Jerilderie, and the outlaws departed from there at seven o'clock, at nine o'clock that night I received a wire at Benalla from Jerilderie informing me of all the facts of the matter. I at once took steps to give instructions to all crossing-places on the Murray river to keep a sharp look out, and sent men during the night to every known crossing-place, to endeavour to effect their capture, but all to no effect. The distance between Jerilderie and Benalla, where I was stationed, was over 100 miles, and the first tidings we heard of their return was that Dan Kelly was seen two or three days after the bank robbery making back to the mountains in this colony, some fifteen miles from Beechworth.
I have written fully on the subject of this bank robbery, because the plans were well laid, and everything carried out in such an able manner. I am indebted to the newspapers of the day for refreshing my recollection of the facts that took place after the bank robbery, as I did not like to trust to my memory as to the numerous incidents that occurred during that exciting time.
The Government of New South Wales, together with the banks of that colony, offered an additional reward of £1000 for the apprehension of each of the outlaws, making the sum offered by the two colonies £8000. Sherritt told me, at my first interview with him, that he was the principal agent of the outlaws in that part of the district, and everything that was known about them by their friends would be communicated to him. Besides which he was at this time engaged to be married to Joe Byrne's sister, and she lived with her mother at Woolshed. He also told me that if they did rob a bank, they were sure to call at Mrs. Byrne's on their way back, and leave her some of the money. He said, "Now if you want really to take them, I will lay you on them." I told him I would place myself unreservedly in his hands and do whatever he suggested, and I arranged to meet him again. When he left, I told the detective who introduced him to me what he had said. The detective ridiculed the affair and said, "He is only deceiving you, sir, please don't trust him; he would not sell his friend Joe Byrne for all the money in the world." I felt convinced my opinion of the man was correct, and he meant to work for us honestly. Sherritt said "You have a most difficult and dangerous job before you, but I will do all I can to assist you." Sherritt had a most exalted opinion of Ned Kelly, and said he did not believe there was another man like him in the colony. He said, "He is about the only man I ever was afraid of in my life, and I certainly give him best in everything." When I found out that the information he had given me about the two outlaws having called at his house was correct, I felt very confident that before long we should fall across them.
CHAPTER VIII.
Aaron Sherritt—A Disappointment—At Mrs. Byrne's—A Twenty-five-day Watch—Manufacturing Brands—Sherritt's Revenge—A Letter from Joe Byrne—Whorouly Races—On Watch at Mrs. Sherritt's—Mrs. Byrne's Discovery—Break-up of the Camp—Arrest of Kelly Sympathizers—A Dynamite Scare—Aaron jilted.
Aaron Sherritt—A Disappointment—At Mrs. Byrne's—A Twenty-five-day Watch—Manufacturing Brands—Sherritt's Revenge—A Letter from Joe Byrne—Whorouly Races—On Watch at Mrs. Sherritt's—Mrs. Byrne's Discovery—Break-up of the Camp—Arrest of Kelly Sympathizers—A Dynamite Scare—Aaron jilted.
Directlythe bank was stuck up at Jerilderie I started off to Beechworth, and sent for Aaron Sherritt. His first words to me were, "Did I not tell you they would stick up a bank in New South Wales?" I replied, "Yes, but you told me they were going to Goulbourn." I said, "Well, what is to be done now?" He replied, "They will be back probably to-night, to Woolshed." He told me to meet him that night at a place indicated by him in the ranges (known to the detective); he would then show me where they tied up their horses, whilst they went into Mrs. Byrne's house for supper. I agreed to his suggestion, and told the detective what I had done. His reply was, "I have known Sherritt for years, and if he likes he can put you in the position to capture the Kellys, but I doubt his doing so." I told him Aaron felt sure they would return from Jerilderie that night, and I had arranged to go with him, and meet him at eight o'clock that night at a certain spot in the ranges, which I described, a party of police accompanying us. Having no men at Beechworth, I drove the detective to Eldorado, which was beyond Woolshed, where I had a party of police stationed. As the detective was well known in the locality, and I was not, I put him in the boot of the buggy under the seat, and he remained in that position nearly all the way. I merely state this to show how cautious we had to be in all our movements. Had he been recognized driving in a buggy, the friends of the outlaws would soon have heard of it. I had to take him because he had to direct the party where to meet us that night, and I had not been in the district for very many years, and knew little of it.
At eight o'clock that night the detective and I met Aaron at the appointed spot in the ranges. We waited anxiously for the men from Eldorado to turn up. After waiting for an hour, Aaron said to me, "You will be late, Mr. Hare. We should have been nearly three miles from this by this time." I was very much annoyed at the men not keeping their appointment; and I turned to the detective and said to him: "Will you stick to me, as it will never do to lose this chance of getting the outlaws?" His reply was: "Yes, Mr. Hare, I will stick to you and do whatever you tell me to do." I turned to Aaron and said: "All right; we are ready to go with you now." He turned towards me to see if I meant it. I said, "Come on."
We mounted our horses. I followed Aaron, the detective following me. The night was terribly dark, and Aaron took us at a good pace. The country was rugged and broken, but he rode ahead just as if he was in his own garden. He appeared to trust to his horse, and I trusted to him. We rode along without a word being spoken by any of us. He might have taken me over a precipice, as I could see nothing before me. Suddenly Aaron stopped, and in a whisper said to me, "This is the bushrangers' country; no one ever comes in here but them." We were then about ten miles from Beechworth on the ranges at the back of Woolshed, and so we rode along, winding round a drain one minute, and over logs and rocks the next, trusting entirely to our horses. Suddenly Aaron pulled up, and I went up beside him, the detective doing likewise. Aaron said, "They are back from Jerilderie. Do you see that fire in the distance?" I replied, "Yes." He said, "The bushrangers are there; I have never before seen a fire in this place, and for some reason they have lighted one, and there they are." We all three dismounted from our horses and sat down on the ground to decide what was to be done. Aaron said, "What do you wish me to do? I will do whatever you like." I thought "nothing venture nothing have," so I questioned him as to the fire being made by the outlaws, but he was perfectly convinced of it. I then told him the first thing I wanted to be sure of was whether the bushrangers were sitting or sleeping near the fire, and he had better take off his boots, leave his horse with me, and crawl along the ground as close to the fire as he could get, and see if he could recognize the voices if he could hear any, if not, to get as close up as he could and find out whether the outlaws were there. He never hesitated for a moment, and did exactly what I told him to do, and the detective and myself were left alone. We both were fully convinced we should have to "do or die" that night, and we were quite prepared to take the risk. We stayed in the same spot for about ten minutes, deciding how we were to make the attack, when we heard footsteps coming towards us at a quick pace. The detective said, "He has sold us; who is this coming towards us?" I said, "Keep quiet." We both, with revolvers in our hands, remained perfectly still until the footsteps came within a yard of us, and a voice we recognized as Aaron's said, "Mr. Hare, we have been deceived, that fire is on the opposite range and some miles away." My first thought was that Aaron had gone up to the fire and started the bushrangers off, or else had given them notice he would bring us up to them. I questioned him and he appeared perfectly honest, and said, "If you will come with me I will convince you that what I am saying is the truth."
We mounted our horses and found that what he had stated was perfectly correct. Aaron then said, "We are awfully late, we must hurry on to Mrs. Byrne's house," and we again followed him in the same order as before. He commenced to go down a fearfully steep range. I said not a word but followed him, until he pulled up and said, "I am afraid to go down here to-night, it is so very dark." I said, "Is there no other way you can get down?" He replied, "Only by going a mile round." He said, "Be careful not to move from your saddle, for this is a terribly steep range, and if you attempt to get off you will roll down some hundreds of feet." He told me to get off the horse on the off side, he doing the same himself, and the detective also. We then led our horses round and got down another gap in the mountains. After riding about a mile Aaron told us that we had better dismount and tie our horses to a tree, and walk down to the spot he would take us to.
We did so, and we followed him down the ranges until we came to a house, which turned out to be Mrs. Byrne's, the mother of the outlaw Joe Byrne. Here also, as in Power's case, we met some watch-dogs in the shape of a flock of geese, and they did give the alarm, and no mistake. However, after a short time, Aaron crawled up to the house, so as to ascertain if there was any one talking inside. Everything was quiet, there was a candle burning. He returned and said, "They expect them to-night. You see, they have left the candle burning, and some supper ready on the table." He then said, "Let us go up to a clump of trees at the back of the house, where they generally tie up their horses." I had previously been told by another agent of this clump of trees, where marks of horses having been tied up were to be seen. Aaron said to me, "Go into that clump. They often tie up their horses there, and lay down beside them and have a sleep, after having their supper at Mrs. Byrne's." I walked into the clump, but found no horses there, and returned to Aaron. Aaron then said, "We must now wait in this stock-yard, which leads up to the clump. If they come they will come through here." It was then about two o'clock in the morning. We sat down and waited until daylight, and then, nothing happening, we started back to our horses, reaching Beechworth at eight o'clock.
Aaron suggested to me that I should bring a party of men and come and live in the mountains at the back of Mrs. Byrne's house. He told me he could put me in a spot which was unknown to any one except the bushrangers, and the only danger of my being discovered was by them. He said I could stay in the mountains by day, and take up my position in the stock-yard behind Mrs. Byrne's at night, and that if I had patience I was certain to get them. I complied with his suggestion, and that evening I brought a party to the spot indicated by him. We brought our blankets and some provisions, intending to stay there until we caught the Kellys, watching by night, and laying in our camp all day. In camp I arranged that no two men should be together throughout the day, whether sleeping or at meals, so that if we were attacked by the outlaws, and some of us were shot, the others could fight.
The life was extremely monotonous, for me especially; but the excitement kept us up, and we always expected that sooner or later we should come across the outlaws.
Our daily life was as follows:—At dusk in the evening, one at a time, we used to leave our camp and make down to the stock-yard, I always leading the way, and the other men following. We had to be most careful where we trod, for fear of our tracks being seen on the following day. We each took up positions behind trees outside the stock-yard, I taking the opening into the yard myself. I had given orders to the men not to move from their positions until I called to them, no matter what happened. We were all lying about ten or fifteen yards apart. The nights were bitterly cold.
Aaron used to spend his evenings at Mrs. Byrne's with his young woman, and he obtained all the information they were possessed of, and when he left their house between twelve and one o'clock he used to lie down and watch with us. He always took up his position beside me, and used to relate all kinds of encouraging reports that he had obtained during the day as to the prospect of the Kellys turning up. Hardly a night that we took up our positions but we thought we should have some luck. As day broke in the morning we used to make back to our camp in the mountains in a very disappointed mood, walking singly, and avoiding the paths or soft places, so as not to leave any tracks behind us.
The great danger I felt was a surprise when getting into the camp of a morning and taking up our positions in the evening. I felt sure that some morning or evening when we took up our post the Kellys would find out our camps and take possession of them, so therefore I always went into camp first in the morning and left it first in the evening, and felt a relief when we all got into our places without being fired on. We dared not make a fire for fear of the smoke being noticed, so we had to live on water, preserved beef, and bread. I stayed in this camp for twenty-five days, and during that time, although we used to see some members of the Byrne family passing to and fro, they never discovered our whereabouts. I always kept a sentry by day over the camp, and the sentry's position was behind a rock near the spot I had made my resting-place, which was the highest, above all the men.
Night after night Aaron used to go and see his young woman, and bring back hopes of success. This used to keep up the spirits of the men, and we all felt sure if we could keep watching without our whereabouts being discovered we would eventually be successful.
I should have stated before this, that when I went with my party into the mountains, I also placed four men in a spot pointed out to me by Sherritt, which was one of the camps used by the Kellys. It was here they stayed for two days after the murders, while Aaron supplied them with food. It was a wonderfully romantic spot, on the edge of a precipice, and only approachable on one side. Two men could keep off a dozen. This camp was placed under Senior Constable Mayes, a bold, trustworthy, well-tried man, in whom I had the utmost confidence. He had a difficulty in getting water for his men, and had to send two miles for it. Sometimes the men were sent by day, but generally by night, and through an indiscretion on the part of one of these men, our whereabouts was discovered. Old Mrs. Byrne was a most active old party. She was constantly looking about for the tracks of police, horses, and men. She was walking along the bank of a creek where the men at the upper camp were in the habit of getting their water, when she discovered a spot where a man had been sitting and amusing himself with a stick—as it is called, "whittling" it. She immediately came to the conclusion that some police were camped close by, and that night she confided her fears to Aaron, and told him he must have a good look in the ranges next day. He promised to make every effort to find out if her surmise was correct, and he came straight to the stock-yard where I was watching, and informed me of the discovery the old woman had made. Aaron next day got his horse and pretended to make a search, returning next night and telling Mrs. Byrne he could find no trace of anybody. The old lady was convinced there must have been some police about, because she said the foot-marks were evidently those of a policeman. These people appear to know the difference between the foot-prints of police and other persons. However, the old woman could not be convinced she was wrong, and up to that time had perfect faith in Aaron, and so also had his young woman, her daughter.
Generally when we left the stock-yard in the morning, Sherritt would leave us and go to his own hut on the ranges, or else to his father's place, which was between our camp and Beechworth; but sometimes he would come into our camp and get his breakfast, and perhaps stop a part of the day. Very often he had to carry provisions for us from Beechworth during the night. He was always ready to do anything for me, and yet many of the men distrusted him. I never did from the first moment I took up with him, and his end showed I was right in my opinion of him. Of a night, whilst I was watching with him, he would sit beside me and tell me the adventures of his life, and give me information of many things that were formerly unexplained. He told me how he, Joe Byrne, and Ned Kelly used to steal horses wholesale, and how they used to dispose of them, and the way they changed the brands of the horses so that the most experienced hand would not discover the trick. It was as follows:—Supposing a horse was branded H on the near shoulder, they would turn the H into H B (conjoined) by getting a pair of tweezers, pulling out the hairs to make a B, and then prick the skin with a needle dipped in iodine. This burns up the skin, and for about a month afterwards it looks like an old brand; new brands were also put on in this fashion, and they never could be detected. After branding the horses they had collected, they would make for some squatter's station where they were unknown, ask permission to put their horses into his stock-yard, on the pretence that they had met a stranger who wanted to purchase the mob of horses, this stranger being one of their own party. Generally speaking, the squatter or some one belonging to the station would walk down to look at the horses, and he would hear them making bargains about the price of each animal, so as to lead the people of the station to believe that it was a genuine sale. At last they would agree to a price, and then would ask the squatter to allow them to go into his office to draw up a receipt, in which all the brands would be entered, both old and manufactured ones. After the receipt had been drawn up the squatter would be asked to witness it, and the supposed buyers would start off towards Melbourne, and the seller appear to return back to New South Wales. If by chance any of the horses were claimed by their owners, the receipt would be produced, and they would so avoid being arrested.
Aaron used to tell me they made raids on horses from about Wagga to Albury, took them a back track to Melbourne, and on their return would pick up a number of horses in Victoria and take them over to Wagga or Albury for sale. One of the party used to act as the master, and the others as his servants; the master always going ahead and making arrangements where the horses were to be paddocked for the night.
For hours did Aaron relate anecdotes to me of the same description as the above, and he enlightened me greatly into the ways and the life of horse-stealers. I cannot refrain from telling another of his stories. I was sitting beside him one night, when he had brought us some very hopeful information, and we were all very elated at our prospect of success. I said, "Well, Aaron, I feel sure you will get the reward offered for the Kellys." (I had promised him he should have the whole sum of £8000 if it was upon his information that the Kellys were captured.) At this time his young woman was getting rather suspicious that he was working for the police, although she used to meet him of an evening very near our camp and walk with him. I asked him how he would like the reward disposed of, supposing he got it? He said, "I should like to have a few mares and an entire horse, and get a nice farm." I told him he should get a respectable girl, marry her, leave all his old associates, and begin life again amongst new people. He agreed with all I said, and turned round and said to me, "Mr. Hare, do you think, if you got me the best mares you could buy, and got me the best entire horse you could purchase, that I could withstand the temptation of taking my neighbour's horses and selling them? No, I could not, no more than fly."
On another occasion we were expecting the outlaws to bring some money they had stolen from the bank to Mrs. Byrne's. Amongst my men I had one who was a thorough larrakin, and Aaron took a great fancy to him. I sent him to Beechworth for some supplies, and Aaron met him on the way, and they both rode into Beechworth together. My man was taken for one of the Kelly spies, especially as he was in Aaron's company. The people of Beechworth at once became alarmed, seeing Aaron and his companion riding about the streets—no one knowing the companion was a policeman. Numbers of people went at once to the police station and reported that Aaron and another suspicious person, riding good horses, were seen in the outskirts of the town. The constable was delighted to have a chance of being seen with Aaron, and made the most of his opportunity.
On the way back to my camp Aaron took the constable into his confidence; he told him that he felt certain that the bushrangers would return from Jerilderie after they had stuck up the bank there, and the first place they would come to was Mrs. Byrne's. Aaron said to him, "I want you to join me in a scheme, and if it comes off we shall have the best of the arrangement." The constable said, "What is it?" He replied, "I feel sure the Kelly gang will return from Jerilderie either to-night or during the course of this week. Joe Byrne will be leading a pack-horse, with the gold and notes fastened up in a brown cloth coat. Directly Mr. Hare opens fire on the men, the pack-horse will, in all probability, break away with the treasure. You and I can go after the horse, catch him, and take his pack off in the bush, hide it, and let the horse go; and next day, in the excitement, we can slip away and divide the cash. It can do no harm to any one, because some one will get it, and we might just as well have it as anybody else." The constable appeared to agree to Aaron's suggestion, and told me what had passed between them. I told him not to tell any one else in camp about the arrangement, and to lead Aaron to believe that he would assist him in the matter. Unfortunately the Kellys did not put in an appearance, and so the matter fell through.
I must give one more narrative about Aaron, just to show the peculiar kind of man he was, even on the chance of being thought tedious. He came to me one morning and said, "Mr. Hare, I want to go away for a couple of days to look after some cattle of mine. I will be back within two days." I questioned him closely, what cattle he was going after, and asked him if he wanted any money. I had not engaged him at any fixed salary, but whilst he was watching with me he used to ask me for a pound or two, and I gave it to him. He often refused to take money from me, as he thought I was paying him out of my own pocket, whereas the Government refunded me all I paid him, and he only took sufficient to pay his expenses. Before he started off after his cattle, I said to him, "Are you sure you have got enough money to pay your way?" He replied, "I have a pound of the money you gave me last time;" and away he started, and returned according to his promise.
Some few days after this, Mrs. Byrne went to the police station, and reported that a valuable horse of hers had been stolen from Woolshed, and, after inquiry by the police, it was found in the possession of Mrs. Skillian, Ned Kelly's sister. She produced a receipt for it, as having purchased it from Aaron, and signed by him, for the small sum of £3 or £4. Mrs. Byrne obtained a warrant for Aaron's arrest, for they all suspected he was then a spy of mine. I spoke to Aaron on the subject, and he admitted that he had taken the horse and sold it to Mrs. Skillian. He said, "I could not help doing this. I did not want the horse, but I felt I must do something to old Mrs. Byrne. She has not behaved well to me lately, and her conduct towards me is so cool that I could not resist the temptation of stealing her horse."
All the time Aaron was with me, only the police who were actually in my party were aware he was working for me, and most of the others were delighted to hear there was a warrant out for his arrest. They made every effort to capture him, but could not find him. I was greatly annoyed with him, because it crippled his usefulness immensely. However, he kept out of the way of the police, and when I was relieved from the district I left it to my successor to get him out of his difficulty. I don't quite know how this was managed, but I was told he was directed to be at a certain spot one day, and a constable was ordered to go there and apprehend him. The constable afterwards took great credit for his capture, not knowing that his arrest was an arranged matter. He was brought before the police-court, but the evidence was not sufficient for the magistrates to commit him for trial, as the horse was not forthcoming, and Aaron was acquitted. I am not quite sure I am right in all the details of what occurred with reference to his arrest, but I was told that this was how the matter was managed.
A number of letters fell into our hands written by the outlaws, most of them by Joe Byrne. He was, for a bushman, rather clever with his pen, but I do not intend to disclose how we became possessed of them. However, I got one addressed to Aaron Sherritt, Sheepwash Creek, near Beechworth. This was the address of his father. I opened it and could not understand a word of it, as it was written in bush slang. I at once went for my boy Tommy, as I christened him, for Aaron was too uncommon a name to be constantly using. In sending telegrams concerning him to the members of the force who knew him, I always called him Tommy, for had I used his name, every one would have guessed who Aaron was. As I said, I sent for Tommy, and met him on a large granite rock at the back of Beechworth. I showed the letter to him. He looked at me and said, "How did you get this into your possession?" I said, "Never mind, read it to me; and who is it from?" He said, "Why, from Joe Byrne, of course." He sat down and read the letter without the least difficulty. I could not make head nor tail of it. I had the original, but I don't know what became of it. The purport of the letter was to the following effect. The writer told Aaron to be at the Whorouly races, which were to take place within a week, and where to meet him, at the back of the course, ordering him not to say a word about their going to the course. He also said that he had the black mare which Aaron had ridden in a steeplechase previously, and that the mare was in good order and sure to win. I asked Aaron what he thought best to be done? He said, "You must give me a good horse to ride to the races, and I will assist in every way possible."
I consulted with my brother officer as to what was best to be done, and we decided to send the usual mounted constables in uniform, and we then selected three good riders amongst the men, who were unknown in the district, and sent them separately to the races. They were all splendid riders and magnificently mounted. The men and horses could have been backed against the Kelly gang, man for man, at anything. We also arranged that I should ride out myself and appear to take great interest in the races. I did go out, and saw the three constables in plain clothes. One had a table and was playing the three-card trick; another had erected an Aunt Sally, and was bawling out at the top of his voice, and the third kept on his horse riding about. I was more afraid of the third man than any of the others, because he was a most excitable fellow and bold, and as good a rider as ever sat on a horse, but with no discretion. He would have faced the four outlaws if he had had the chance, and shot them one after another if it were possible. I may as well give the names of these men. They were the most dashing of all my party. The first was Tommy Lawless; the second, Faulkner; the third, Johnstone; three pluckier fellows never trod the earth. My fear was that the mounted police on duty would arrest some of my men for gambling, as they were not known to each other; but they were not interfered with.
After Lawless had been playing his three-card trick for some time, he thought he would enter his horse for the steeplechase that Aaron was supposed to ride in, thinking he would thus have a better opportunity of seeing everything all round the course. At the time appointed for this race to come off, we were all looking very anxiously for Aaron to turn up on the black mare, but alas, we were disappointed. I saw him anxiously looking out in the direction he thought the mare would appear from, but there were no signs of it. Joe Byrne's brother (Paddy) was a good deal with Aaron all that day, but the subject of Joe was not mentioned by either of them to each other. Lawless rode in the steeplechase and won it, and that was the only bit of excitement during the day.
An incident occurred during the steeplechase that I must state, although it is against the discipline of my men. Just before the steeplechase started, Johnstone saw three men riding outside the course; he took it for granted they were the outlaws. Without a moment's consideration, he galloped off alone towards them. I saw him do this, as I was wondering who the men were, and at a glance saw they could not be the Kellys. Faulkner was at the time on his horse close beside me, in the middle of a crush. He looked at me. I shook my head, and he remained where he was. I walked quietly out of the crowd, and Faulkner followed me, and we saw Johnstone returning terribly ashamed of himself. He could give me no explanation of his conduct beyond saying he could not help himself. He thought the three men were the outlaws, and he made straight for them.