Aaron Sherritt was noticed by every one riding a magnificent horse which I had purchased a few days before. He was pointed out to me by several people as Kelly and Byrne's greatest friend. I was asked why I did not have him arrested for stealing the horse he was riding, as he never could afford to come honestly by such an animal. I pleaded ignorance about either man or horse.
At night a ball was to take place at a public-house near the racecourse. We thought probably some of the gang might put in an appearance there; but there was no sign of them again, and we had to return disappointed.
In writing this narrative I have not kept exactly to the order in which the things occurred. As I have no paper to refer to, I am simply trusting to memory. After a time all the men, both in my camp and the upper, came to believe most thoroughly in Aaron's honesty of purpose, as I had done from the beginning. He often told me that I had a kind of influence over him that no other man had ever had before, and he could not tell me a lie. We kept watching as from the first. Old Mrs. Byrne began to be very doubtful of Aaron, and treated him very coolly; still the daughter believed in him, and he continued his visits to the house. The old woman was constantly abusing him, and telling him that she thought he had thrown his old friend overboard and was working for the police. Yet, notwithstanding this, the whole of Kelly's friends used to confide in him, and tell him all the movements of the police in the district, which he would repeat to me.
One night he returned, as was his custom, to where I was watching. He appeared rather anxious, and said, "Is there any news of the Kellys?" I said, "No; why do you ask?" He replied, "What is the meaning of all the activity that has taken place among the police to-day in different parts of the district?" I said, "What do you mean?" He replied, "This morning at four o'clock two men left Beechworth, and went in the direction of Woolshed. Three other men started early in the morning from Eldorado, going in the direction of Woolshed, and some three or four men started in the direction of Wangaratta." I was perfectly amazed at the organization of the sympathizers thus to have ascertained the movements of the police. I said, "Tommy, tell me how you get all this information." He replied, "I could not do that, but you would be perfectly astounded if you knew how much we know of the movements of the police."
To test whether his information was correct, I inquired, and found every word he said was true; but I never was able to find out how he obtained his information. I asked him if all the agents in the district knew as much as he did. His reply was, "Oh, yes, but I am the head over all of them."
I was in the habit, whilst with my cave party, of getting all information of everything that was going on throughout the district concerning the Kellys. One evening Detective Ward came to my camp and told me that Dan Kelly had been seen near Myrtleford, riding in the direction of Beechworth. Half an hour afterwards Aaron, on his way to Mrs. Byrne's, called in at my camp. I told him that Dan Kelly had been seen that day.
He started up at once, and said, "Then he will call at my mother's place to-night, or else at my hut, which is about two miles from my mother's;" and added, "I wish, Mr. Hare, you would bring a couple of men with you, and come with me to my mother's place; some of the gang are sure to call there if they are passing by. Let the remainder of the party go to the usual place at the stock-yard and watch Mrs. Byrne's. You come with a couple of men to my mother's place, and get two men from the upper camp and put them in my house."
I consented to this suggestion, and he accompanied me. I left two men at his house, one of whom knew the outlaws, and I went with two men to his mother's. I had a conversation with his mother, and she asked me to be careful and not to shoot any of her sons. She had two besides Aaron, Jack and Willie. I went inside their barn—a large open building, within a few yards of their dwelling-house. It was filled with straw, and the two nights I spent in that building with my two men beggars description. The pigs slept in the straw, and the fleas beat anything I ever felt in all my life; the mice, also, were running over me, and I really believe that a snake went over me also; but there was a chance of the Kellys coming there, and that was enough for us. I had arranged with Mrs. Sherritt that if she heard footsteps, or any one coming to the place during the night, she would call out, as a signal, "Is that you, Jack, or Willie?" and I could hear their reply. Aaron stayed all night in his mother's house, in case the outlaws called to see him.
Once or twice during the night I heard footsteps approaching the house, and, of course, my heart was in my mouth, expecting it might be the welcome visitors; but, alas! Mrs. Sherritt came to the door when the dogs barked, and called out, "Is that you, Jack?" and the answer was, "Yes." I stayed there a second night, but at daylight next morning I got up and left with my two men. The horrors of that place frequently come before me, and I shudder when I think of the hours I spent in that barn.
On my way to my camp I called at Aaron's hut, picked up the two men I had left there two nights previously, and took up my position under the rock, feeling as if I had got home again; the bare rock was paradise compared with the abominable place I had just left.
I must now come to the closing act of my stay at the camp in the mountains. We had been about twenty-three nights watching there. Our breakfast consisted of bread and sardines, and a drink of water; dinner and supper the same, varied with tinned beef. In the midst of our camp was a large stone, which was used as a table. We never could have a fire. The food, whatever there was, was placed on the stone. Each man would get up from his position, take what he wanted, and go back to where his rifle lay, and eat the food there; no two men went to the so-called table at the same time.
On the last morning of my stay there, Aaron, who had been watching with us all the night, came into the camp with us. It was a Sunday morning. After we had our meal, each of us lay down in the spots we had selected and fell asleep. I was the highest up the hill, and could look down upon all the others; near me sat the sentry, and Aaron had lain down the furthest down the hill, in a hollow below a large rock. At about eight o'clock in the morning the sentry, without moving from his post, called me, and said the old woman, meaning Mrs. Byrne, was in the camp. I sat up in my cave and looked out, and saw her stealing up. She stood for a moment, saw articles lying about the camp, then came a few steps further on, looked down in the direction of where one of the men was lying, then halted for a moment, and retreated. The camp was so situated that unless a person got within a yard or two of it, he could not be seen. I watched her, and did not even let her know that we had seen her. Directly she left I jumped up and went to see who it was she had seen, and to my horror I found it to be poor Aaron. I called him up. He was lying partly on his side, and I was not certain she could have recognized who it was. I told Aaron what had happened, and he turned deadly pale, and huge drops of perspiration broke out on his face. He could scarcely speak, and gasped, "Now I am a dead man." I told him the best thing he could do now was to be off as hard as he could, and go and show himself to some of his friends, so that if Mrs. Byrne had recognized him he could prove analibi, and convince her she was mistaken.
Aaron always wore a peculiar dress, and would have been known by any one at any distance. His dress consisted of a white shirt, a pair of trousers and long boots, with his trousers tucked inside. The first thing I did before I let him leave the camp was to send a sentry over the hill to see if anything could be seen of the old woman. He returned in a few minutes and pointed her out on a hill opposite to us.
I should here describe the formation of the country we were hidden in, to make myself understood. We were on the one side of a deep gully, with high hills, quite impassable to horsemen, in front and behind us. A road or track ran at the foot of the gully, and on one side of the track, about 100 yards from the bottom of this gully, was our watching-place, about half a mile from Mrs. Byrne's house. We remained quite quiet, and watched her go up the opposite hill to something white that was on a rock. This was her shawl, which she had left behind. It afterwards turned out that she was searching for the police in the mountains, and when she got to the spot where we saw her pick up her shawl, she had noticed a sardine-tin on the rock in our camp shining in the sun. This had been inadvertently left there after breakfast. When she saw this shining thing, she left her shawl and went to see what it was, and after being in our camp she returned and picked up her shawl (this she afterwards told Aaron). I put a watch over her, and saw her come down the hill again.
When she was out of sight I put my hat and great-coat on Aaron, and started him off over the back of our camp, so that if the old woman had seen him walking away she could not have recognized him. When he was gone, we set ourselves to watch the old woman closely, as she was bent on finding out how many men we had there. She was evidently under the impression that she had not been seen by any one in the camp. She descended the hill and commenced ascending the one behind us. We could see her crawling down the hill upon her hands and knees, evidently with the object of looking into our camp to see what she could. I told Senior-constable Mills to go up the hill and give her a good fright and drive her off. He ascended the hill in the direction he saw her coming down, unobserved by her, and lay behind a rock with his rifle in his hand. The old woman came down to the very rock he had taken shelter behind, and just as she was going to take a good observation of our camp, the senior-constable sprang upon her and roared out. She almost died of fright. She had not the slightest idea any one was near her. For a moment she shook from head to foot, but soon recovered herself and began to slang the senior-constable, and tell him she would get her son with the Kellys to shoot the lot of us, as they did Kennedy's party. After some conversation she left and went back to her home.
Nothing transpired that day until dusk, when Aaron reappeared as usual. I asked him what he had done with himself after leaving me that morning. He said he had gone to an intimate friend of his and shown himself, and some time afterwards had drawn attention to the early hour at which he had called. I asked him what he intended doing, if he meant to go that evening to see his young woman. He said, "Oh, yes, I must go and see if the old woman recognized me this morning." I said, "Don't you funk it?" He replied artfully, "But I must find out if she knows it was me." He went on, "I have brought a penny whistle, and I will commence playing it within a hundred yards of the house, and perhaps my girl may come out to meet me, and I can find out from her whether the old woman has said anything about me."
He left us just as we were going to the watching-place, and about twelve o'clock came as usual and sat down beside me. He told me he went with his whistle straight to the door of the house, but his young woman did not come out to meet him. He walked inside and continued playing. When he got inside, there was a strange man (a neighbour) in the room. The old woman said nothing to him, but he said, "I watched her countenance, and I felt sure she had not recognized me." After a little while, the old woman went outside, and he followed her. She said, "A nice trick you have been playing on me." He said, "What do you mean?" She said, "Who could have put the police into that camp in the mountains but you?" He replied, "I don't know what you mean." She told him how she had discovered our camp, and said there were thirty men in it. He pleaded ignorance, but she said she felt certain he knew all about it. She asked him how it was that she could find us out and he could not. He replied he could not tell. She said, "Well, you go there to-morrow and see for yourself."
From that time I thought it was useless my remaining there any longer, but all my men begged me to stay, and so did Aaron. I stayed for two nights longer, but two old women discovered our watching-place. My men and Aaron pleaded that Mrs. Byrne had no means of communicating with the outlaws, as she did not know where they were to be found, and they were sure to seek Aaron out before going to her place. However, I could not see the use of staying any longer, so I left, though the men remained for two or three weeks longer. I was not sorry to leave the spot. It was a most uncomfortable place to sleep in. The days were terribly hot and the nights bitterly cold.
One circumstance occurred whilst watching which I think worthy of relating. About ten o'clock at night we were all in our positions, I at the opening of the stock-yard, lying under a post-and-rail fence with an old log fence at the bottom, as close to it as I could get, the men lying behind trees. There were six of us in all. I heard the footsteps of a man coming down the track from the hills. The footsteps came closer and closer, until I saw the figure of a man step on to the rails just above me. At the moment I thought it was most likely to be Joe Byrne coming down to see his mother, and I was just in the act of springing up as he jumped down, when I remembered that Aaron was down at the house, and if it was one of the outlaws he would be able to give us notice. So I decided to let him pass me. He walked right through the midst of my men. Not one of them moved, because I had not moved. He went straight to the house. About two hours afterwards Aaron came to us. I waited to see if he would say if there was any one there or not. He did not. I asked him if there were any strangers at Mrs. Byrne's. He said, "Yes, a man named Scotty, who lives up on the hills, came there." Somehow or other I fancy the man was Joe Byrne. I have no real reason for thinking so, but I do, and we let him slip past us. Aaron vowed it was not, but at the time Aaron was very partial towards his old school-fellow, Joe Byrne, and frequently he used to ask me to give Joe a chance of his life if they came into the stock-yard, but he used to say, "Of course if he fights and shoots at you, you must do the same to him."
joe
Joe Byrne.
About this time it was deemed desirable to arrest a number of the sympathizers who were setting the police at open defiance. They were galloping round the search parties, watching the movements of the police and insulting the men. With the sanction of the Government, we decided to get together all the members of the force in charge of stations and allow them to submit the names of persons whom they knew to be Kelly sympathizers, aiding the gang by giving them information of our movements, and in other ways. The arrest was ordered of about twenty relatives and friends, and the arrests were made all over the district on the same day. They were charged with aiding and abetting the Kelly gang, and were brought before the court and remanded for a week. No evidence was given beyond the fact that they were known to be Kelly sympathizers, but upon this statement the magistrates remanded them from time to time for seven days. They were in confinement for some two or three months, but still the Kellys were able to find ways and means of supporting themselves and keeping out of the clutches of the police. At last the police magistrate, Mr. Foster, refused to remand them any longer, and discharged the whole of them. It was my painful duty, week after week, to go up to Beechworth every Friday and apply for a further remand for seven days, without being able to adduce a tittle of evidence against them. This move was a very unfortunate one. It did no good, and evoked sympathy for the men in custody. The police, I found out, had no evidence against these persons beyond the fact that they were known to be associates, relatives, and friends of the outlaws. Had the women been arrested, such as Kelly's sisters, the act might have done some good, but it was thought advisable not to interfere with the women. During the time I and several of the police were going up every Friday night to Beechworth to apply for the remand of the prisoners next morning, I had to take the constables who knew these sympathizers every week to Beechworth with me, for I never knew when the magistrates might call for some evidence, in default of which they might discharge the prisoners. As these men had been arrested we were determined to keep them as long as we could, in the hopes that the outlaws might get infuriated at all their friends being locked up on their account, but they took not the slightest notice of it.
A few weeks before those arrested were discharged, some of our spies, or, as we used to call them, "agents," gave me information that the Kellys had procured some dynamite and intended blowing up the train out of revenge for our locking up these persons. I took no notice of the report. On one Monday night the telegraph operator at Benalla informed me that for some reason the wires would not act between Beechworth and Benalla. The break was somewhere between Wangaratta and Beechworth, and the stoppage occurred about nine o'clock. The following morning the lines were found to be working all right again. The same thing occurred on Tuesday, and on Wednesday night telegraph repairers from Melbourne were sent along the line, but could find nothing wrong. Still, each evening, exactly at nine o'clock, no messages could be sent, and sometimes the line stopped working in the middle of a message. Thursday night the same thing occurred, and yet the line was not broken. One of the operators told me he believed the break was due to some one putting a piece of wire over the telegraph line and so making a ground connection. However, the cause was not discovered.
Friday night came, and we were just starting for Beechworth by the passenger train at about eight o'clock, when the operator at Benalla sent a message to me at the platform, telling me that the wire had stopped at about seven-thirty o'clock that night. I remembered then the information I had received about the line being blown up with dynamite. The officer in charge of the district and myself held a short consultation as to whether we should stop the train and inform the passengers of the danger impending. We, however, decided to get into the train and say nothing until we got to Wangaratta, when we could decide on the best course to adopt. We got into a carriage with two Roman Catholic priests who were chaffing us all the way up about not catching the Kellys. Still we said nothing about the information we received. At Wangaratta we decided to go on to Tarrawingee, as it was between that station and Beechworth the break in the line was known to be. When I got to Tarrawingee I went to the station-master and told him to stop the train until I gave him permission to start. He said he had no authority to stop the train. I then took a constable to the engine-driver and told the driver he was on no account to start without my permission, telling him at the same time of my suspicions. The officer in charge of the district and myself then called the telegraph operator whom we had in the carriage, and asked him if he could tell in any way whether the line was open between that station and Beechworth, as there was no telegraph office at Tarrawingee. The operator said if he could get up the pole and take the wire between his teeth he could tell. The difficulty was to get him up the pole, but we got a long spar and shoved him up, and he discovered connection was open again to Beechworth. The officer in charge of the district and myself then decided that we would let the train go on and say nothing at all to the passengers, who, during the detention at Tarrawingee, were calling out and grumbling at our keeping the train all that time. We got into the train and arrived safely at Beechworth, without the passengers knowing anything about the danger they had been in.
The feeling of alarm over the Kelly gang was so strong at this time, that had we raised an alarm the passenger traffic on the line would have been entirely stopped. I have often thought what a terrible thing it would have been if that train had been blown up, especially going over some of the steep embankments on the line to Beechworth. For months afterwards the Government placed men on watch to prevent the line being interfered with by the Kellys. I remember distinctly saying to my brother officers, "Well, whatever happens, we shall be in the thick of it, so they cannot blame us." I also remember the feeling of relief we both experienced when the train arrived safely at Beechworth. It was a terrible responsibility on our shoulders, and we had very little time to decide the best course to adopt, but fortunately the course we adopted turned out all right. A few days after this occurrence I was told by one of our "agents" that arrangements had been made that night to blow up the train with dynamite, but the outlaws did not know how to use the cartridges that they had been supplied with, and they were afraid to make the attempt and fail, and so resolved to defer the dynamite business to some future occasion.
After leaving the cave party, as it was called, I went to Benalla and organized several search parties, took charge of one of them myself, and had no end of adventures. My principal place of searching was the Warby Ranges, and many a hard day have I spent in them. We were trying to keep a constant watch over the relatives of the outlaws, more especially over Kelly's sister, whose place was near Greta, within four or five miles of Glenrowan. The Warby Ranges run just to the back of Glenrowan. The constables used to watch the house to see if any one arrived or left during the night. Mrs. Skillian and Katie were aware they were being watched, and nearly every night before they went to bed they would take their dogs and hunt round the bush within several hundred yards of their house. Very often the dogs discovered the police lying on the ground, and then commenced barking at them until the women came up. It appeared as if the dogs knew the police were their natural enemies. At first I used to make one of my men in the search party carry a lot of poisoned baits, and every now and then drop a bait in a likely place, but afterwards all the dogs went about day and night with muzzles on, which were only taken off when they were being fed.
This puts me in mind of another incident in our search. Information came that the Kellys were expected on the following day, Sunday, to visit a cousin of theirs, Tom Lloyd, a man who was a notorious sympathizer, and who made no secret of it. Katie Kelly had been seen riding from her place to her cousin's with a large bundle in front of her saddle, which was supposed to be clean clothes, &c. for her brothers. I was not at Benalla when the news came in, but Aaron Sherritt happened to be there waiting for me, and Captain Standish sent out three men with Aaron to watch the place. They left Benalla in a wagon, and were driven out to within three miles of the spot where they intended watching. Lloyd lived in a house at the foot of a very high hill, in fact the mountains surrounded the house on three sides. Aaron and the three men kept off the road, and did not go within 300 yards of Lloyd's house. They took up their position in a thick clump of trees, and got there before daylight in the morning. They had a good view of Lloyd's house and the surrounding country. Shortly after daylight they saw a boy come out of the house and unfasten the dogs. They at first thought he was going to fetch the cows in to milk, but in a very short time they discovered that the boy had been sent out with the dogs to see if any one had been about the place during the night. To their horror they saw the dogs coming on their trail straight towards them, and they actually followed their footsteps into the clump of trees. One of the men jumped up, as they did not wish Aaron to be seen, and immediately the dogs began to bark. The boy ran back to the hut, and shortly afterwards the inmates came out and looked in the direction where the men had been hiding. Several shots were fired from the house, presumably as a signal, and Lloyd got an axe and struck a log of wood, which was so placed that when it was hit the sound was heard all round the hills. This also was supposed to be a signal of alarm in case the outlaws were anywhere in the neighbourhood. The men had to remain where they were all day, as it would never have done to have allowed Aaron to be seen with the police.
Shortly after the cave party was broken up. Miss Byrne broke off her engagement with Aaron, and he was free to look out for some other girl. He suggested to me that he might try Katie Kelly, and see if she would engage herself to him. He went there, but Mrs. Skillian objected to his being about the place. Katie and he got on very well, but she never mentioned her brother's name to him, nor he to her. They became very great friends. One night, when Mrs. Skillian went to see a friend, she left Katie and Aaron in the house together. Aaron induced Katie to come out for a walk with him, and when Mrs. Skillian returned she found them both away. She was most indignant, and went to the nearest police station, Oxley, and laid some charge against Aaron. The police constable went to the Kellys' house, and when Aaron saw him coming up to the door he bolted out the back way. The constable followed him, and fired a couple of shots, but could not overtake him. I received a report next day from the constable, who stated that to stop Aaron he had fired a shot at him. Aaron made his way to a school-master's house that night, a place where the Kelly gang used to frequent. He borrowed a horse and rode into Beechworth, where he went straight to Detective Ward and reported the circumstance to him, asking the detective to wire to me to come up to see him at Beechworth, as he was afraid of being arrested by the police. This occurrence, strange to relate, never got into the press, and the constable at Oxley was very much surprised at the leniency shown towards Aaron. On one occasion Aaron came down to Benalla to see me. He was unobserved, arriving by train. I met him in the bush, on the banks of the Broken river. At dusk he went to the railway platform to await the train to Beechworth. When he was seen there, there was great excitement, as he was known to be Aaron Sherritt, the principal agent of the Kelly gang. A messenger was immediately sent to me in breathless haste to come quickly to the railway station. I pretended to be very much surprised, but, of course, Aaron did not recognize me nor I him, and I saw him leave by the train.
CHAPTER IX.
Mrs. Skillian's Hoax—A False Alarm—Searching the Warby Ranges—Among the Kelly Sympathizers—Ill and dispirited—The Tenant of the Haystack—Relieved after Eight Months' Camping Duty.
Mrs. Skillian's Hoax—A False Alarm—Searching the Warby Ranges—Among the Kelly Sympathizers—Ill and dispirited—The Tenant of the Haystack—Relieved after Eight Months' Camping Duty.
Itwas perfectly wonderful how all the trains were watched by Kelly sympathizers. You could tell them in a moment, they were to be seen on every railway station. It is not to be understood that all these men could communicate with the outlaws; my opinion is they trusted no one but their own blood relations, but the information concerning the police was sent to persons like Aaron Sherritt, there being perhaps three or four men in the whole district who could communicate to the outlaws' sisters any information that was obtained concerning the movements of the police. Hart had a brother and sister, and they were always on the move. Byrne had a brother and two or three sisters; the former was always riding about. Reports came in that Mrs. Skillian used to be seen at all hours of the night riding about the bush, sometimes with large packs on her saddle.
A curious incident occurred one morning about daylight. Some policemen had got to Mrs. Skillian's house about two o'clock in the morning, and were within a short distance of her place, and in some way she must have become aware of their presence there. She went into the paddock about three or four o'clock, caught her horse, saddled it and tied a large bundle on the saddle, mounted the horse, and started off towards the mountains, the three policemen following her, but without the slightest idea that she was aware of their presence. She made for a very steep gap in the mountains, the men following on foot, thinking they had a good thing on hand. The sun was nearly up when they reached the top of the gap, and the first thing they saw was Mrs. Skillian sitting on a log facing them, and her two hands extended from her nose, and taking what is called a "lunar" at them, with a grin of satisfaction on her face. They went up to examine the pack on the saddle, and found it to be an old table-cloth wrapped up evidently to take a rise out of the police, who had been watching her.
After I left the cave party, I was constantly on the move. My object was to harass the outlaws as much as possible. I had parties of men out in every direction, going all day, and watching for fires at night. I remember on one occasion I had been out in the bush for about ten days with a party, and having consumed our provisions, we came back to Benalla. The evening I returned Captain Standish got a letter evidently from a well-to-do farmer, who stated that he had on the previous evening seen four men walking in the direction of a certain man's house, giving a description of the place, and how to find it out. He gave his reasons for thinking they were the Kellys, and altogether it appeared a very good opportunity of falling across them. Captain Standish was in great glee about the information, and I remember sitting up half the night with him talking about it.
At twelve o'clock I went round to my men, awoke them, and told them to be ready to start with me at four o'clock next morning. We were up again about three, got our horses and provisions ready, and away we started at daylight, and went through the town of Benalla before any one was up. As it was Sunday morning, and it was an unusual thing for us to start away on that day, instead of going in the direction indicated in the letter, I went directly in the opposite one. When I got into the bush, about five miles from Benalla, I dismounted the men and read the letter to them. I was afraid to do so before, in case the information we were going on might leak out. They were all in great spirits at the probabilities of success, and thought our chances very good. We camped and let our horses feed in the middle of the day, and so we travelled along until after sunset, when we doubled back, and made in the direction of the farm described in the letter.
About four o'clock in the afternoon we passed a hut. Of course every one, knowing we were in search of the Kellys, came out to see us. One of my men drew my attention to a man standing watching us, and told me he was one of the principal spies of the Kellys. I replied, "Well, he can never guess where we are going, for we have the Warby Ranges between us and the spot we are making for." We passed on, and thought nothing more of him. We got into camp about eight o'clock, tied our horses up, and after having some water, bread, and beef, laid down until one o'clock in the morning. As the men got out of their hammocks, Lawless cried out, "I say, Mr. Hare, I think some of these hammocks will be for sale to-night." He meant by that that some of us would be shot, as all felt convinced we were going to meet the outlaws that morning.
The men were all in great spirits. We had to cross the railway gates at Glenrowan. We often found great difficulty in crossing the railway, for many of the gate-keepers were in league with the friends of the Kelly gang. The keeper required a lot of calling before he got up. We then struck across the bush until we were compelled to get on to the roads; when amongst the farm-houses we had to travel very quietly to avoid alarming the occupants, for we looked upon every one as a sympathizer of the outlaws. After travelling about four hours, the constable who undertook to take us to the farm referred to, said he thought we were near the place, so we all dismounted and left our horses on the road in charge of one of the party. The remainder approached the house carefully, and we got in front of it just half an hour before daybreak. I told my sergeant, with three of the men, to take up his position at the back of the house, and that I would, when it was clear daylight, put my hat on my rifle as a sign for him to approach. I remained on the spot with three men for about half an hour. They were strung up to such a pitch that I thought I should hardly be able to restrain them from rushing ahead of me.
At the appointed time I gave the signal, and we started for the house. We had to pass a window before getting to the door, and in doing so one of the men stepped in front of me. He told me afterwards that he thought a shot would have been fired out of the window, and he wanted to get between me and it. We went to the door and listened, but all was silent within. I knocked, and a man inside called out, "Who's there?" I replied, "Police; open the door." After a few seconds he did so. I said, "Have you any strangers in your house?" He said, "I have." I suppose our appearance there frightened the life out of him, for he turned deadly pale; but the moment he said there were strangers inside we all rushed into the house and into every room in the building. I said to the farmer, "Let me see the strangers," and out came the individual whom we had passed the previous evening, the greatest sympathizer Kelly had. I asked him what brought him there. He said he came over to see his friend and spend the night with him.
We saw at once our chance was gone. I never could learn whether this man, upon seeing us pass the previous evening, had gone over to warn the Kellys to be on the look-out. We searched the haystack, outbuilding, and every place that we could think of, but all to no purpose. There was nothing to be done but to return to the camp a disappointed crew. I don't think I ever saw the men so down-hearted. Whilst returning, I thought I would try to raise their spirits, and so I took them across country. We got in amongst the fences, and there was a good deal of jumping to do to get back to camp. One of the men had a narrow escape of falling off, his horse blundering over a fence. He landed on its ears, and had the greatest difficulty in getting back to his saddle. This little incident put the men in good humour again. We had our breakfast, turned the horses loose, and got into our hammocks, where we remained all that day, both men and horses requiring rest. Next day we took a turn in the Warby Ranges, and made back to Benalla.
I had a great many trips with my party in the Warby Ranges. I was told by a sergeant of police, who ought to have known better, that I could search these ranges thoroughly in a couple of days. However, after a month's experience, I found every day new hiding-places where the outlaws could conceal themselves. I had a splendid lot of fellows in my party. My right-hand man was Mayes, who acted as my sergeant; next to him was Mills, and the others were Lawless, Faulkner, Barry, O'Loughlin, and Kirkham. They were all men who belonged to my own district, and had served under me for years. There was not a weak spot in any of them. I felt that I could at any moment have said, "I think the outlaws are in that cave, go and pull them out," and they would have been proud to have been selected for the purpose. No work was too much for them, day or night, and I never heard a grumble. Lawless and Faulkner were equal to any bush-riders in the world, and I often wished that they might have a chance of showing whether they or the Kellys were the best men on horse-back. Johnstone was another of my men, but he was not always with me. He also was a magnificent rider, but he required some restraint, being both wild and reckless, and inclined to lose his head.
Generally speaking, we had two pack-horses to carry our provisions and rugs, enough to last us eight or ten days; after that the men required a spell in barracks, for our life was a very hard one, sleeping in the open without tent or fire, living on potted beef, and biscuit, and sardines. Bushmen think nothing of camping out for months, but ask any of them in the winter months to camp out without a fire, and see how long they will stand it. I remember once, when I was searching the mountains at the head of the Broken river, the weather was terribly cold, and the men were getting very down-hearted at not having any luck. Mayes came to me and asked me to let the men have a fire for one night, as they were very low-spirited, and were feeling the cold terribly. He said, "I am sure if we could get to some quiet spot in the mountains you could let us have one good warm, and we shall be all right to-morrow." I agreed, and took them to a most retired gully, and told them they might light a fire that night. They were so surprised, it acted like magic on them. They selected a large hollow tree, set fire to it, and there was a grand blaze. They heaped up wood all round, and sat all night enjoying themselves.
After I had had a good warm I took my hammock and went about a hundred yards from them, and kept, as it were, watch over them, because I never knew when the Kellys might have crept on us, and without any difficulty they might have shot the whole of the men standing round the fire; so I thought if they were attacked I could have assisted them. First of all they made bets as to how long it would be before the tree would fall; one said two hours, another three, and so on. Then they began to bet how many native bears there would be in the tree when it fell, then who would catch the first opossum, and so they went on all night, like a lot of school-boys out for a holiday.
The next day they were quite different men, and we had several adventures, such as one of the pack-horses rolling down a precipice. I was riding ahead, and hearing a terrible noise, looked round and saw that one of the pack-horses had slipped and fallen over the cliff. It was rolling down, turning over and over like a barrel, the stones and rattling of the pack on his back making such a noise that I thought half the men were over. The track was too narrow to turn my horse round, but I jumped off and looked over the embankment, and there I saw the poor old horse lying on his side eating grass. I expected to see him smashed to pieces. We had to work our way down to the bottom, take off the pack, and lead the horse a mile or two round before we got him to where the rest were. Strange to say, with the exception of a few cuts, the horse was all right, but this accident caused a delay of two hours.
The tracks in the mountains are made by the wild cattle, and I am sure I often thought it a marvel that we did not roll down the sidlings we crossed. One night we spent a terrible time. We had arrived at the foot of a steep mountain, and I told the men to camp there, and fixed the spot where my hammock was to be slung. I then took three men with me and ascended the mountain. It was a fearfully wild place. I went up to see if I could observe any signs of fire in the distance. We stayed on the top of the mountain for an hour or two, and then descended; but we had a terrible job to get back with our rifles in our hands. It was pitch dark, and the difficulty of our position caused much amusement. Every now and then one of us would come bump up against a rock, and we would be calling to each other to ascertain whether we were keeping together, and we were very doubtful whether we should find the spot where the other men were camped. However, I had taken particular notice of the hills as I went up, and if there is one thing I am proud of being able to do more than another, it is being able to find my way about the bush. I have been thirty years knocking about the country, and I only once lost myself, and had to stay out all night, and that was under very exceptional circumstances.
We got to the camp, had some tucker, and I jumped into my hammock, which had been slung between two saplings, when two or three native bears began to sing out in a most piteous manner, like children crying. I stood this for a short time, and then called out to one of the men to cut the tree down, so as to get rid of the bears. He did so, and I fastened my hammock to the stump of the tree, and fell asleep. When I awoke in the morning my rug was frozen, the country round was perfectly white with frost, and the men told me the running water in the creek close by was frozen.
One night in the Warby Ranges is forcibly fixed in my mind. We were in one of the most favourite resorts of the outlaws, and were searching a side of the mountain. The men were stationed at equal distances from one another. I was very anxious to search all the gullies leading up the mountain, so I took the lower position myself, the men being all above me. They searched every nook and corner, behind all the rocks, the scrub, and any place in which a man could hide.
As I was riding along I saw a newspaper a day or two old folded up and stuck between two rocks. It had a long article abusing the police for not capturing the Kellys, and had evidently been put there for the outlaws' perusal. Not far from this I found a track leading up a gully in the mountains. I looked up, and saw Lawless about 100 yards above me, and beckoned to him to come to me, which he did. I showed him the track into the gully. He said, "What shall we do?" I told him we had better search it. We got off our horses, tied them to a tree, and walked up the gully. I took one side and Lawless the other. We were not more than eighty yards apart.
Shortly afterwards I saw Lawless trying to attract my attention; he beckoned to me to come to him; I did so. When I got near he pointed downwards, as if there was something beneath the rock he was standing on. He had his rifle in position to fire at a moment's notice. I could not understand what he meant or what he had seen. He remained where he was, and I went round to the front of the rock he was standing on. He said when he jumped on the rock he felt something move it, and heard a noise as if some one was running underneath it. I went close up to the opening, and there I saw a large wombat in the hole. I told him what was there, and his countenance changed in a moment. When I first came up to him his eyes were starting out of his head with excitement, and he said, "I thought we had them at last."
We continued our search, but as usual, there was nothing to be seen. We got on our horses and rode about the place until about five o'clock, when we came across a nice paddock, and decided upon turning our horses into it and camping for the night. We had fixed the different spots for our hammocks, and were just going to our meal, when one of the men called me, and pointed out the tracks of fresh horse foot-prints going into the mountains from the direction of the lowlands. The tracks appeared to be an hour or two old. We were considering what we should do, and sat down in the usual manner away from each other with our rifles beside us, when all of a sudden every man jumped to his feet and called out, "Look out, sir, they are coming straight for us." I stood up and saw four men riding towards us as hard as their horses could go. It was the habit of the Kellys to ride like demons through the country.
My whole party rushed to a brush fence and got behind it; I followed them, and the men came straight for us. When they were within a few yards we all jumped up and confronted them. They were not the outlaws, but were well-known spies of theirs. Directly we stopped them they began to slang and chaff us. Sergeant Mayes turned upon them in the most indignant manner, and asked if they knew who they were speaking to. Mayes asked me if he might arrest them, as he felt sure the outlaws were close by.
I consented, and told him the better plan would be for him to take three of our men to the house from whence these men had come, and put the four sympathizers in it, and allow no person to leave the place that night. I and the three other men would watch the pass leading into the mountains. Mayes, Lawless, Faulkner, and O'Loughlin went off, leaving three men with me. They proceeded towards the house, which was the same place where the outlaws had their breakfast after riding through Wangaratta, shortly after the murders.
As the party approached, all the occupants came to the door, evidently thinking the four strangers were the Kelly gang, and there appeared to be great rejoicing over the prospect of their calling there, but as the party got closer, and were recognized as policemen, they all beat a retreat into the house. Lawless, who was a small man, not at all unlike Steve Hart in figure and appearance, saw a person walking in the garden, and directly he caught sight of him the man appeared to vanish out of his sight. Lawless followed him, and when he got near, the man called out, "Is that you, Steve?" Lawless replied, "No." He said, "Then it must be his brother." Lawless replied, "It is neither." The man then took a good look at Lawless and said, "I beg your pardon, I thought you were some one else." Lawless said, "Who did you take me for?" He replied, "Some one we expected to-night." Lawless at once reported this conversation to Mayes, who sent him to where they had left me, and Lawless informed me of all that had passed between him and the stranger. I at once decided to watch the place with my three men. About a mile from the house there was a good stable, with abundance of feed in it, which was evidently left there for the outlaws. Mayes had told the inmates of the house they were not to come out during the night, as he and his men intended keeping watch over the place, and they might be mistaken for some one else, and shot. When I reached the house they appeared to be very happy inside; they kept dancing half the night, and I believe this was a sign for the outlaws, if they were about, to keep away.
There we remained without covering of any kind until daylight. The night was bitterly cold, and I, being in the most exposed place, became nearly frozen. About two o'clock in the morning I had a consultation with Mayes, and we decided to send a man into Wangaratta to bring out four additional constables to keep watch, whilst my party tried to pick up the tracks we had seen the evening before, leading into the mountains. I sent Faulkner with another man to Wangaratta, at about four o'clock in the morning; he returned with the four men. On his arrival, I met him near the house, and directly I approached him he sheered off from me, and said, "Who are you?" I said, "Don't you know me?" When he heard my voice, he replied, "Is that you, Mr. Hare? You are so white with the frost I did not know you." I gave orders to Sergeant Kelly, who was in charge of the fresh men, to guard the house, and to allow no person to leave until I communicated with him. I told him on no account to allow any signals to be put out, especially any sheet to be thrown over a bush in the garden, this being a well-known sign of the Kellys as a warning not to approach the house. Sergeant Kelly afterwards told me, directly the people of the house had finished breakfast, one of the girls brought out a table-cloth, shook it on the verandah, and then threw it over a bush in the garden. He removed it at once.
At daybreak I and my party went to the pass in the mountains, where we had left all our packs and provisions. We had some breakfast, and started off immediately to follow the tracks. I had no black tracker with me, but I had an excellent man named Bellis; he was one of the special men engaged by the police, who knew the country. He was a capital bushman, a good shot, a fair tracker, and a thoroughly trustworthy man. We took our horses with us. Bellis and several of the men picked up the tracks, whilst the others followed with the horses. For a mile or so the tracks were very distinct, but after some distance they appeared to separate, going in different directions. Some of the men fancied they heard voices ahead, and asked me to allow them to run over, as they felt certain the outlaws were quite near. I could hear no voices, but two or three of the men said they did. There was a thick clump of scrub in the direction where the men thought they heard the voices, so I beckoned to them to join together, and we rushed towards the scrub and surrounded it. We searched it thoroughly, but could find no trace of anybody being there. The men were much excited from want of sleep, and they appeared hardly to know what they were doing, so I made them have a rest. Afterwards we went back to pick up the tracks again, but were unable to do so. We searched the mountains until evening, and then made back to the spot where we had left our packs.
Next day we started off into the hills. I sent a man from the house to Senior-constable Kelly, and told him to withdraw his men into the mountains, so as to keep watch over the house, and to remain as long as his provisions would last. We searched all the day without finding any signs of the outlaws. We camped that night at the foot of a steep mountain, and were starting off next morning when Bellis drew my attention to what we all thought were the heads of four men looking over the hill at us. Without a moment's consideration, the whole party started to get up the hill as fast as they could. It was a difficult job for the horses, but we urged them on. The only things we could see were four goats feeding quietly. We looked for traces of men, but could find none, and so came to the conclusion that we must have mistaken the goats for four men looking down on us. I myself had grave doubts, and still think they were men. There was a high point of the mountain in front of us, which we next proceeded to search.
As my horse was carrying twenty stone, when I got on the top of the hill I dismounted and walked over to some shelving rocks. There I found the foot-marks of a man on the green moss, as if done that morning. I went back to meet my men, and showed the foot-marks to them, and after we had followed the tracks for some distance we came across a lot of stones recently moved, the earth being quite fresh. The stones were up on end, all pointing in one direction, and that was to another high hill three or four miles off. We lost the tracks in the rocky ground, so decided to try our luck on the other hill. We kept some distance apart from each other, making for the steep ground in front of us. After a most tedious ascent we reached the top, at least four of us did, and, strange to relate, here we found the stones stuck up on end just as we had found them on the other hill. We were greatly puzzled at this, and while we were talking over the matter one of the men saw a person at the foot of the hill on horse-back, riding along at a good pace. I sent a man after him to see who he was, and he overtook him as he was making for the mountain. The man I had sent immediately beckoned to me to come down, and appeared to be very excited. We all made down the hill as fast as we could.
This person was a well-known squatter living close by, who had often aided the police when in want of assistance. He told me that when he was in the mountains the previous day looking for some sheep, he saw a tent erected in a retired spot, and it must only recently have been put there. I asked him if he would take us to it. He said "Certainly." I collected all my men, and off we started, following our leader. After riding some four or five miles the tent was pointed out. We dismounted and surrounded it, and rushed down on it, only to meet with another disappointment. The tent was quite empty. We searched all round the place, and found tracks of shod horses where the animals had been feeding. We retired from the tent and slept that night near the squatter's homestead, and I dined with him, but slept with my men.
Next morning at daylight we saddled our horses and made back to the tent we had searched the previous evening. We again crept down, thinking the occupants, if any, might be asleep; but it was still empty. Some time afterwards I heard the tent belonged to a party of men engaged collecting honey, who are known as "bee men." Many of them were sympathizers of the outlaws, and used to leave horse-feed and provisions in their tents for them. We continued searching for three or four days after this, but nothing of any interest transpired.
We were constantly receiving information that the outlaws were likely to be hiding amongst their friends on the low land below Euroa, where they were known to have several cousins who did not bear very good characters. Captain Standish suggested that I should again take a trip down there. I had made several trips in those parts before, but some fresh information supplied to us was to the effect that they were hiding in the flat country. I started off with my party and a black-fellow called Moses. He was a Queensland man, and a capital tracker. He had been with me on several occasions before. We searched about the country, but could hear nothing of the outlaws.
One morning we made an early start to search a place belonging to a connection of the Kellys. We left our pack-horses behind us, and also our bedding and provisions, intending to go across country, getting over the fences the best way we could. After riding two or three hours we came across a stiff fence, and there was no way of getting over except to jump it. The men went over it with the greatest ease, but when I brought my horse up he baulked. I turned him round and put him at it again, and he made a tremendous spring and got over. Something gave way in my back, just above my right hip, and the agony I went through that day was beyond anything I ever experienced.
A most amusing incident occurred on this day. We had received information that the outlaws were amongst their relations, and during the day they occupied a very large haystack, near the house of one of their relatives. I was in great agony when I reached this place; still the description we had received of the premises was so accurate that we made straight for the stack, and much to my astonishment found a chamber or passage leading into it. We all dismounted from our horses, and I called for a volunteer to creep inside and see what was in it. Every man begged to be allowed to explore it, and I selected Johnstone. He disappeared in a moment, but very soon reappeared, coming out a good deal faster than he went in. He said, "I heard some noise in the stack, and I came back to tell you to keep a sharp look-out all round." I started him back, and told him to turn the fellows out, and in he went again; but he had hardly been away twenty seconds when out he came again like a flash of lightning. I said, "What is the matter?" He replied, "Lor, sir, there is an old sow in there with a lot of young ones, and shedidgo for me; it was as much as I could do to keep clear of her." The old pig came out shortly afterwards, and we all had a good laugh.
We had information about another place further on, but I was unable to proceed. I lay down in the bush in great pain, and sent the men to search the locality; and on their return they picked me up, and we returned to where we had left the camp in the morning, a distance of about twenty-five miles.
Next morning I was better, and the men got a buggy for me, and I drove myself into Euroa. I do not to this day know what was the matter with me, or the cause of the pain I suffered. The party I left behind in charge of Senior-constable Johnstone remained out for five or six days, and then returned to Benalla. On my arrival at Benalla I told Captain Standish that the hardships I had gone through had affected my constitution, and I was not fit to go out with the search party again, and I wished him to relieve me, as I had then been camping out for eight or nine months. He promised to do so, and ordered the inspecting superintendent to come up and take over charge of the business. I got a week's leave, and remained quietly at Benalla.
CHAPTER X.
Black Trackers—Again in Charge withcarte blanche—Aaron Sherritt's Doom—The Beginning of the End—Glenrowan—Sticking up the Hotel—Bracken's Escape—The Police on the Alert—A Dangerous Journey—Mr. Curnow's Adventure.
Black Trackers—Again in Charge withcarte blanche—Aaron Sherritt's Doom—The Beginning of the End—Glenrowan—Sticking up the Hotel—Bracken's Escape—The Police on the Alert—A Dangerous Journey—Mr. Curnow's Adventure.
BeforeI close this part of my narrative I wish to say that I have not given a hundredth part of what actually took place during the time I was searching for the outlaws. I felt sure, sooner or later, one of the different parties who were out in search of them would drop across them, as the outlaws had always to be on the alert, never knowing when a party would be on them. Ned Kelly said after his capture, the hardest part of their life was the constantly keeping guard for fear of surprise. They were dreadfully afraid of the black trackers—I mean the men that came from Queensland—I was told it was marvellous how these men could follow a track across the bush. I was out on two occasions with them, but I did not see anything particularly striking about them, but other Victorian officers spoke in the highest terms of their wonderful skill in tracking.
When Moses was with me I saw him do a fine piece of tracking. We were on a flat at the back of Warby's Ranges, and after lunch started to search a range in the mountains, leaving our packs at the camp, and a man in charge. We had been searching several hills, and about half an hour before sunset one of the men drew my attention to some tracks of horses coming from the Wangaratta side of the range. I called Moses and showed them to him. He dismounted, looked about, and said they were from horse tracks about four days old, three big horses and one small one; he pointed in the direction they were going. It was exactly in the opposite direction to where our camp was. He said, "Shall I follow them?" I replied, "Yes." He took some cartridges out of his belt and put one in his rifle, and without saying another word, off he galloped as hard as he could go across country, we all following him. We went for about five or six miles. Suddenly Moses pulled up, and we found ourselves on the cross road running from Wangaratta to Yarrawonga. Moses said, "The tracks have gone into this dusty road, and I can't follow them any further." I replied, "Surely you have not been on the tracks all the while." He said, "Oh, yes; I will show you." He got off his horse and showed me the four tracks—three large horses and one small one. He then galloped up one side of the cross road and back the other, to see if the tracks crossed either the one side or the other, but without any result. We then returned to our camp. We were without coats, it was bitterly cold, and we had nine or ten miles to ride.
Next morning we started to try and pick up the tracks again, and I suggested we should work back to see where they came from. We did so, and found they were coming from the direction of a sympathizer's house which we had surrounded a few nights before. We rode on for about a mile, and suddenly Moses pulled up, and said, "They have been camping here." I could see no signs of anything. I said, "How do you know?" He replied, "One saddle been there," pointing to a spot, "another there, and there." I dismounted and could see no signs of anything. We searched about and found where a small fire had been made. Searching further he found under some rocks, where the black fellow had noticed the stones had been removed, the identical tins which we had given Sergeant Kelly when I directed him to take up his position in the mountain overlooking the house. I afterwards ascertained that it was just four days before we were there, that Sergeant Kelly had left this camp and gone the road Moses had followed the previous evening. I have given this story just to show the wonderful powers these blacks have in following tracks.
In addition to going out in search parties, I had a number of agents always working for me, but I felt the information they gave was of little use. They would tell us the outlaws were seen at some distant place, and what they intended doing, but all this information was of little service to us, beyond letting us know they were in the country. This we had no doubt of, and I often asked Sherritt if there was any chance of them leaving the district, and he scorned the idea. He said, "Most decidedly they can never leave, and the day they attempt to do so they will be captured." I never could understand why they did not separate and make for Queensland as swagmen; but Sherritt was quite right; they never did leave, beyond going across the Murray, where they had many friends, and they were always within a day or two's ride of their own relations. They never had horses with them, except when they went on some raid; otherwise we must some time or other have come across their tracks. They could not have kept their horses out of sight. I was told that on two or three occasions I and my party nearly surprised them, and that once they had to take refuge in the head of a fallen tree to escape us.
When the inspecting superintendent relieved me he adopted a different system to mine. He did away with all search parties, and depended entirely on agents, thinking he might lead the outlaws to believe that he was under the impression they had left the colony, and thus beget a feeling of security which might lead them to become careless about their movements. He had some reliable agents, who were giving him information of all the movements of the outlaws. Our two systems were entirely different. I thought mine was the best, the inspecting superintendent thought otherwise, and he begged to be allowed to continue carrying out his plans. The press throughout the colony was calling out about the disgraceful conduct of the police in not capturing the offenders. A change of Ministry having taken place about this time, the Government were determined to try some other measures to effect the arrest of the bushrangers.
One morning Captain Standish told me that Mr. Ramsay, the chief secretary, had decided I was to relieve the inspecting superintendent, and take charge of affairs again at Benalla. I protested, and told him I had already tried my hand and failed, and that there were many officers in the force senior to me who should have a trial. He replied: "The Government have decided upon your going, and you must go." I saw the chief secretary on the subject, and his reply was, "Mr. Hare, the Cabinet have decided that you are to take charge of affairs at Benalla. They have the utmost confidence in your discretion, we give youcarte blancheto do whatever you think desirable, you are to consider yourself independent of all control, and anything you do the Government will bear you out in." I told Mr. Ramsay that I felt very much flattered at the confidence reposed in me, and that I was ready to start at once.
In the meantime the inspecting superintendent, having received orders to hand over the charge of affairs to me, came at once to Melbourne, and saw Mr. Ramsay. He told the chief secretary he felt sure if left in the district a short time longer, he would without doubt capture the outlaws. He begged to be allowed to remain a little while, and Mr. Ramsay gave him another month. He went back to Benalla, and did everything in his power to effect a capture, but all to no purpose—and I was compelled to go back to Benalla, very much against my inclination, on 1st June 1880.
I first began to find out what had been going on during my absence from the district. I saw some of the agents who had been employed by the inspecting superintendent, and got them to remain in my employ. I then took steps to remove the trackers, as I had informed Mr. Ramsay, it was said that as long as they were in the district the outlaws would not show out, and I was anxious they should do something, as it would give us a better opportunity of falling across them. Besides, the Queensland authorities wanted their trackers back, as they belonged to their force of native police, and the officer in charge was anxious to return also. I arranged with Captain Standish they should leave as soon as they could conveniently do so.
After I had found out all I could concerning the movements of the outlaws at Benalla, I started off to Beechworth and saw Aaron Sherritt. I found he had married during my absence, and his family and his wife's relations did not get on together, as she was a Roman Catholic and he a Protestant, and his family were vexed with him for marrying. Aaron had taken a cottage on the road from Beechworth to Eldorado near Woolshed, where he and his wife resided. I had a long interview with him, finding out all that had taken place during my absence, and the different interviews he had had with the outlaws whilst I was away from the district. He expressed himself very pleased at my return, and told me he did not get on as well with the inspecting superintendent as he did with me, and he would set to work with fresh zeal and endeavour to find out where the outlaws were to be found. He told me that a fortnight ago they were at his mother's house looking for his brother Jack, whom they wanted to join them, and four constables had been sent to his house in hopes that they might call on him; but when the inspecting superintendent was leaving the district, these men had been removed, and he was of opinion that it would be as well to send them back.
I ordered them back, and directed that they should stay indoors all day and watch Mrs. Byrne's house by night, as Aaron lived about three-quarters of a mile from her. I also made arrangements to have the Harts' house watched from Wangaratta, and for a party to watch Kelly's house from Glenrowan. The orders to the men were, that after dark every night they were to leave their abode singly, and walk away to the watching-place, so that if any of them should be met, no notice would be taken of a man walking alone. They were to take up their positions within view of the houses, but not near enough for the inmates to discover their whereabouts.
I kept moving about and working hard. Rumours were coming in from all directions that the sympathizers were very active, that something was about to happen. Old Mrs. Byrne was very jubilant, and she told a person—who repeated it to me—that the gang was about to do something that would astonish not only the colony, but the whole world.
Horses were reported as being stolen in several directions, all supposed to be by the gang. Constable Bracken, who was in charge at Glenrowan, reported that the four men who had been watching Kelly's house were completely knocked up, being out night after night in the wet, and asked me to let them be sent to Benalla to recruit themselves for a few days. I consented, but I had no other men to replace them. I paid another visit to Beechworth, saw Detective Ward, and told him I was not at all satisfied with the way the men were conducting things at Aaron's house.
Two or three reports came to hand, informing me that Paddy Byrne had saddled his horse at his mother's place at two o'clock in the morning, and started off into the ranges, and instead of the men accompanying Aaron to endeavour to follow him, they let him go alone. I decided to go down that night to visit the party at Woolshed. Ward and I started away from Beechworth about eight o'clock, and reached Aaron's house about 9.30. I stood in the road whilst Ward went to the house to find out from Aaron's wife where the men were to be found, as they should have been out watching. We found one of the men at the hut, and he told us the others were away with Aaron watching Mrs. Byrne's house. I left Ward at the hut, and got this constable to show me where the men were watching. He purposely lost his way, and kept me fully an hour going one mile. I believe he kept me all this while in the bush to gain time for the men to take up their positions, as it turned out that none of the men were watching Mrs. Byrne's house but Aaron.
When I got to the watching-place I met the constable who was in charge of the party. I asked him why he had left one constable behind at Aaron's house? His reply was, "That man has deceived you, Mr. Hare; we were all of us at Aaron's house when you called with Ward," he said. "I was collecting wood on the hills—Aaron alone was watching." I severely reprimanded the constable for misleading me. I then spoke to the constable in charge about matters in general. He appeared to be a smart, intelligent man. I asked if he had made up his mind what he would do if the outlaws came to Mrs. Byrne's. He said: "I would shoot the lot of them if Aaron said they were the men." I told him to be careful not to make a mistake and shoot any one else. I left them, and Aaron walked back with me to his house to pilot me across the diggings.
No sooner did he get within sight of his house than he said, "You can't go wrong; there is the house. I will return, as I don't like leaving the men there alone." I saw he was just as zealous as ever. I thought all this zeal might have been put on to deceive me, but I listened to his footsteps making back as fast as he could. I thought after he had let me go he would probably return to his hut for a cup of tea, as the night was bitterly cold, and he was dressed as usual, with a white shirt, trousers, and boots. I sat there fully half an hour, but I heard no sign of his returning. I went to the hut, picked up Ward and my horse, and rode back to Beechworth, telling Ward I was convinced that the men at Sherritt's house were not working as they should, and that I had decided I would remove them and send others in their place as soon as I could arrange to do so. Exactly at that time on the following Saturday Aaron was shot, and two of the outlaws were guarding his place for some hours afterwards.
On Saturday evening, the 26th June, about nine o'clock, a man named Antone Wicks, a German, who lived about a quarter of a mile from Aaron Sherritt's house, was stuck up by Joe Byrne and Dan Kelly. He was handcuffed by the outlaws, and made to accompany them to Sherritt's house. He was told to call Aaron out, and say he had lost his way, and ask him to put him on the road, as it was quite dark. When the three arrived at Aaron's house Wicks knocked at the door; Aaron said, "Who is there?" The German replied, "It is Antone Wicks, he has lost his way." Aaron opened the door, and Wicks said, "Come and show me the way." Aaron said, "Who is that?" at the same moment stepping out of his door. Joe Byrne jumped forward and fired at him. He retreated to the middle of the room, and Byrne stood in the doorway and fired a second shot, and Aaron dropped down dead without saying a word. It is commonly believed that Ned Kelly was present at the shooting of Sherritt, but Wicks stated that only Byrne and Dan Kelly were there; they kept him handcuffed all the while they remained at Sherritt's house.
It might be as well to explain why they took Wicks up to Aaron's house to call him out. The outlaws may have heard voices in Aaron's house, and thought that if they called him outside his door their voices would have been recognized by him, and he would have been on his guard, so they got Wicks, who lived close by Aaron, to call him.
Whilst all this was going on at Woolshed, Ned Kelly and Hart were busy elsewhere. About 2.20 o'clock on Sunday morning 27th June, a railway line repairer, named Reardon, was awakened by Ned Kelly and Hart at Glenrowan, and told to get up and dress himself. Kelly presented a revolver at his head, and told him he wanted him and a man named Sullivan, also a line repairer, to go and pull up the rails. He said, "We were at Beechworth last night, and killed several people. I expect a special train will be sent from Benalla with a number of police and black trackers, and I am going to kill the lot." Reardon begged Kelly not to take him, as he had a wife and large family. Kelly replied, "You must come, or I will shoot you." Kelly told him to pick up the tools he required. Kelly, Hart, Reardon, and some other workmen walked along the line to a place about half a mile away from Glenrowan, where there was a steep embankment with a fall on each side of about twenty or thirty feet. Hart pointed out the rails to be taken up, and Reardon and the others took up two rails. They were a considerable time about it, and Kelly found fault with them for not being quicker, and threatened to tickle some of them with his revolver if they did not hurry up. When this was done they all walked back to Glenrowan, and were marched into Mrs. Jones's hotel, and were kept prisoners there.
steve
Steve Hart.
It is not positively known at what hour Joe Byrne and Steve Hart appeared on the scene, but it was some time in the morning. Throughout the day the four outlaws took possession of the township. They kept watching for persons passing Mrs. Jones's hotel, and they would call upon them to "bail up," and march them off to the hotel, which for the time being was converted into a prison-house by the outlaws. By the evening they had captured sixty-two people. Amongst those thus detained was Constable Bracken, an excellent ex-constable, who rejoined the force for the express purpose of assisting in the capture of the Kelly gang. He was a clever, shrewd, careful, quiet man. Young Reynolds, the son of a neighbour, came to the police station about eight or nine o'clock on Sunday night, and called Bracken to come outside to his father, who wanted him. The object in getting Reynolds to call Bracken, was to prevent the constable from recognizing the outlaw's voice, so the boy, who lived near the police station, was made to call him.
It was the habit of constables, when called by any one during the night, not to show themselves unless they had their revolvers in their hands. Bracken, hearing young Reynolds' voice, got up without taking this precaution; being unwell, he had gone to bed early. The moment he opened his door, which led into the yard, Ned Kelly, who was standing beside the boy, covered him with his revolver, and ordered him back into the house. One of the other outlaws was also present. Kelly at the time had his armour on, with a waterproof coat over all. They made Bracken dress himself, he being the only constable at the station, and told his wife that she was to remain in the barracks, and, if she gave information to any one, or answered any call during the night, they would shoot her husband. Mrs. Bracken said she looked out of her window two or three times during the night, and saw men watching her house. This may have been fancy or fear on her part. Bracken was marched off to Jones's hotel, and found sixty-two prisoners there. Dancing was going on, and everybody appeared in great spirits. Of course, amongst these sixty-two prisoners there were several of the Kellys' sympathizers, who, if a rush had been contemplated, would have given the gang warning. When Bracken was admitted into the room the doors were locked, so that nobody could leave. Dan Kelly had charge of the key which opened the front door, and Bracken kept watching him.
About ten or eleven o'clock at night Dan Kelly commenced to dance, and before doing so he put the key on a mantel-piece. Bracken sidled towards the fire-place, and taking the key, slipped it down his boot unobserved by any one. The dancing was kept up with great spirit until some one called out, "The train is approaching!" The outlaws at once went into an adjoining room and began to put on their armour, but no one knew what they were doing. About ten minutes afterwards the train stopped, and there was great excitement. Bracken saw his chance of escape. He took the key from his boot, opened the front door, and ran towards the railway station. The first thing the Kellys did when they came out of the side room was to look for Bracken, but they could not find him, and appeared very much annoyed.
About one o'clock on Sunday afternoon, 27th June, a messenger was sent to my hotel in Benalla, who told me that there was an important message for me at the telegraph office. I went there, and found that intelligence had come that Aaron Sherritt had been shot at his own house at nine o'clock the previous night by the outlaws. I at once sent a wire to Captain Standish, telling him of the circumstances, and requesting him to send the black trackers back to Benalla at once, as they had left for Melbourne on the previous Friday.