Story of the Kellys

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 738, 10 August 1929, Page 15

Story of the Kellys

TWO YEARS OF OUTLAWRY

Last Stand at Glenrowan

THE serial which opens today on page 8 is the work of a Melbourne author. Mr. Charles E. Taylor, and his store. “The Girl Who Helped Ned Kelly,” excited widespread interest when published recently in Australian papers. The author makes no attempt to glorify the exploits of the gang, or to make a hero of the principal character,. The book is written with honesty and sincerity, and gives „ faithful picture of the brief life of the outlaws during a period of two years, when a large police force was engaged in tracking them down. Most of the characters in the narrative are drawn from life. A summary of the doings of the gang from IS7B to the execution of Ned Kelly is given below.

Edward (Ned) and Dan Kelly, who wf . the sons ot “Red” Kelly, a settler Iu the Greta district of Victoria, had jee-i in trouble for cattle and liorse Healing several times before their jncounter with Constable Fitzpatrick 0 (1 April 15, 1878, brought them under public notice. Xed was then 24 and Dan 17. \(ter Fitzpatrick was wounded, then be went to the Kelly's house to grrest Dan on a charge of horse stealfc:, they took to the bush, and alBinwh a reward of £IOO a man was trend by the Government, nothing wia heard of them for six months. Then —on October 25, 1878 —Austraja was thrilled by the tragedy at Itrngybark Creek. Sergeant Kennedy and Constables Scanlon, Conergan and Mclntyre had been sent out Item Mansfield in the hope of pickini! them up. Yh« Kellys—who had been joined by Joi Byrne, aged 21, and Steve Hart, iscd 18 —surprised the police camp while Kennedy and Scanlon were abjent. Lonergan disregarded their eemmand to “Bail up!” and was shot (bad Mclntyre, who was unarmed a:;d had no option but to obey, was tcld that if he induced the missing troopers to surrender on their return, 111 their lives would be spared. Mclntyre did his best to carry out these instructions, but Kennedy drew ku revolver, and Scanlon unslung his tille. Both were killed. One of the police horses trotted to where Mclntyre was standing, and the trooper leapt into the saddle and lolloped into Mansfield with news of the tragedy. The reward was raised to £I,OOO a nan. and a proclamation under the felons Apprehension Act authorisedanyone to capture the outlaws alive or dead. Two months later, on December 0, 1878. Younghusband'3 Faithful Creek Station was stuck up and the Buroa Bank robbed of over £2,000. After lying low for two months, the bushrangers were next heard of iu the little New South Wales township of Jerilderie, where, on February 8. 1870, after locking up the police, and donning their uniforms, they robbed the bank of £2,150. For some time afterward it was believed that the gang had got away from Australia, but on June 26, ISSO, they provided a tragic reminder of their presence by shooting Aaron Sherritt, a close companion of Joe Byrne’s, whom the police induced to become a ipy. Next day the bushrangers rode across to Glenrowan, a small township on tne Sydney railway line, and took possession of the place. Their efforts to wreck a train containing police and

black trackers were frustrated by the heroism of a schoolmaster named Curnow. The police surrounded the hotel, and a fight was waged throughout the night. This was the only occasion on which the outlaws used their bulletproof armour, which had been constructed from the mouldboards of ploughs Dan Kelly, Joe Byrne and Steve Hart, were killed by police bullets, having evidently discarded their armour because of its weight, and there were two innocent victims of the fight in the landlady’s little son and an old man named Cherry. Ned Kelly, who had left the hotel In the early morning for the purpose of mustering his armed friends, was shot, in the legs and captured. Believing that the other three might still be alive, the police set fire to the hotel with the object of inducing them to surrender, but they were already dead. At his trial Ned Kelly said:— ‘T do not pretend that I have lived a blameless life or that one fault justifies another, but the public, judging a case like mine, should remember that the darkest life may have a bright side, and that after the worst has been said against a man he may, if he is heard, tell a story in his own rough way that will lead them to soften the harshness of their thoughts against, him, and find as many excuses for him as he would plead for himself. “For my own part, I don’t care two straws about my life, nor for the result of the trial, and I know very well from the stories I have been told that the public at large execrates my name. The newspapers cannot speak of me with the patient tolerance generally extended to men awaiting trial, and who are assumed, according to the boast of British justice, to be inno- > cent until they are proved to be guilty. But I don’t mind, for I am the last that curries favour or dreads the public frown. 'Bet the hand of the law strike me down if it will, but I ask that , my story may be heard and considered —not that I wish to avert any, decree that the law may deem necessary to vindicate justice, or win a word : of pity from anyone. “If my lips teach the public that men are made mad by bad treatment, and if the police are taught that they may exasperate to madness men they per- , secute and ill-treat, my life may not he entirely thrown away. People who , live in large towns have no idea of : the tyrannical conduct of the police in ■ country places far removed from , court. They have no idea of the harsh, overbearing manner iii which they execute their duty and abuse their s powers.” i Kelly was hanged in Melbourne Gaol on November 11. 1880, his final words i being, “Ah, well, I suppose it has l come to this!”