Black Snake (2 page)

“Whitty and Burns, not being satisfied with all the picked land on King River and Boggy Creek…paid heavy rent for all the open ground, so as a poor man could not keep his stock, and impounded every beast they could catch, even off Government roads.”

Ned’s complaints against squatters, Cameron Letter, December 1878

Head of the Family

Ned’s mother selected a piece of land near the town of Greta on the Eleven Mile Creek. Ned had to work hard on his family’s land, cutting down trees, digging out stumps, making fences. Ned wasn’t the eldest child in the family, but he was the eldest son. After his father’s death, he became the head of the family. As role models he had his uncles and cousins. If they taught Ned anything, it wasn’t how to be an honest law-abiding citizen. A dozen of his relatives had criminal records. Between them they were arrested more than 60 times in Ned’s lifetime. There was always one of Ned’s relatives in jail for something.

Ned had his first brush with the police in 1867, just after his father died. A neighbour claimed Ned had stolen his horse and reported the theft to the police. Though it was noted in the
Police Gazette
, fortunately for Ned, the charge was dropped and nothing came of it.

Local Hero

Other local people suspected that Ned had stolen horses from them, including a family called the Sheltons. But Ned did something that made this family forget about their missing horse and remember Ned with gratitude. Their young son, Dick, was walking to school one day when he fell into the river. Eleven-year-old Ned happened to be passing by and jumped into the river to rescue the drowning lad. The grateful Sheltons praised Ned’s bravery and gave him a strange reward. It was a specially made green silk sash, seven feet long and trimmed with a fringe made of real gold threads. It was meant to be worn over one shoulder. Ned was very proud of his sash and wore it on special occasions.

Horseplay

As Ned grew up, he developed a love of horses. Dressed in moleskin pants and high leather boots, Ned found time between his farm chores to become an excellent horseman. He liked to show off his riding skills by riding down the main street of Greta on unbroken horses. The residents of Greta stood back in fear as the wild horses tried unsuccessfully to buck him off.

There was not much in the way of entertainment in small country towns in the 1870s. Community picnics and sports meetings were occasions that everyone looked forward to. People came from miles around to attend. At these events, Ned performed demonstrations of trick riding. On a galloping horse he would lean down out of his saddle to snatch up a handkerchief from the ground. He would also kneel on the horse’s back as it leapt over fences at lightning speed.

Further Education

Ned had unusual eyes. A policeman once said that he had “dingo eyes”. A doctor who tended to Ned said he had what was known as “Alexandrite” eyes. When people with Alexandrite eyes become angry or excited they glow red.

Ned went to school for less than two years. He must have been a bright boy because in that time he managed to learn how to read, write and do basic arithmetic. When Ned was ten, his father spent six months in jail for stealing a cow. Ned left school to take his father’s place on the farm. That was the end of his schooling, but not the end of his education.

Four years later, Ned became an apprentice. Not as you might expect to a builder or a stockman, but to a bushranger. Harry Power wasn’t a very impressive looking bushranger. He was short, middle-aged, bad-tempered and he had problems with his bowels. He wasn’t very successful either. He had quite a talent for getting caught by the police. Harry spent 32 years in jail—almost half his life.

Juvenile Bushranger

The bushranger and his young assistant specialised in highway robbery. They would hide in the Strathbogie Ranges and suddenly appear on the road-side, pointing guns at unsuspecting travellers and demanding their money and valuables. They didn’t earn a fortune, but £10 here, a gold watch there and the occasional good quality saddle made it worth their while.

Ned’s mother didn’t object to her son becoming a bushranger. She probably looked forward to getting Ned’s cut of the spoils. Mrs Kelly made money illegally herself, by selling alcohol to passing travellers. Ned didn’t like the life of a bushranger though. Sleeping outside in all kinds of weather, eating poorly and putting up with Harry’s bad moods wasn’t much fun. After just a few months as an apprentice bushranger, Ned left Harry and went back home. He had become known as Power’s apprentice though and troopers arrived to arrest him early the next morning.

Young Ned spent several weeks in jail but was released without going to trial. Harry was caught after Ned’s release, and believed that Ned had told the police where his hideout was. It wasn’t Ned who got the £500 reward for Harry’s capture though, it was one of Ned’s uncles.

Out of Luck

Ned was lucky that neither of his early brushes with the law had led to him going to prison. But it wasn’t long before he ended up in jail. He got caught up in an ugly argument between two hawkers (people who travelled around the countryside selling goods to farmers). They exchanged insults, and then punches. Ned was drawn into a fight that had nothing to do with him.

It wasn’t a serious crime, but this time his luck ran out. Ned claimed he was innocent but he was charged with “violent assault”. His sentence was to pay a fine of £10 plus an additional sum of £60 as a bond that he would not get into trouble again. This doesn’t sound like a lot of money, but in 1869 £50 was as much as a labouring man would earn in a year. Ned’s family managed to scrape together the £60, but couldn’t find the other £10. Instead of paying the fine, Ned had to serve six months in jail. He was 15 years old.

Ned, aged 15, taken when he first went to prison.

What if you were there...

I was on my way to Greta yesterday driving my hawker’s wagon. Young Ned Kelly rode up beside me looking very pleased with himself. He was astride a beautiful chestnut mare.

“I just had a bit of a holiday in Wangaratta,” he told me, even though I didn’t ask.

“That’s a nice piece of horse flesh you’ve got there,” I said.

“She’s not mine,” he said, regretfully patting the horse. “She belongs to a friend of my mother’s.”

“And what’s this fine horse’s name?” I asked.

“He didn’t have a name for her, but I call her Lady. I’ll be sorry to give her back. We cut quite a flash in Wangaratta, Lady and me. There she was, strutting down the main street. When we did a bit of trick riding, it was like we’d been doing it for years. She was as gentle as a lamb when the publican’s daughters rode her, but every now and then she’d shake her head and rear up a bit, just to give them a thrill.”

The boy sighed. “Now it’s back to splitting fence posts.”

As we rode over the bridge into Greta, Constable Hall waved Ned over. Hall’s a big, fat tub of lard with a fearful temper. Ned didn’t seem to like him any more than I do. “Morning, Senior Constable,” he said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Can you just come over to the station for a minute, Ned?” asked the constable cheerily. “There’s a few more papers just arrived that you have to sign.”

I pulled up outside the hotel. Ned gave me a long-suffering look and rode over to the police station. The lad’s not long out of jail and still on a bond to keep the peace. He wouldn’t want to upset the police. He was about to dismount when Hall grabbed hold of his jacket.

“I’m arresting you,” Hall shouted, “for stealing this horse.”

Ned pulled away from him. There was a rip as his jacket tore. The fat constable made another grab at Ned. Ned allowed himself to be pulled off the horse and the constable fell on his back in the dust with Ned on top of him. The mare reared up. As soon as her hooves hit the ground again, she started galloping away. Ned, caring more about the horse than the policeman, got up to run after her. He’d only taken two steps when Hall called out to him.

“Stop where you are,” he shouted, “or I’ll have the pleasure of shooting you dead.”

Ned turned on his heels and found Hall’s revolver in his face. Hall was sweating with the exertion of getting up so quickly. Ned was bristling with anger. After all, the lad had only just got out of jail and the pigs were already trying to lag him again.

“Shoot and be damned,” Ned shouted.

Hall pulled the trigger. The gun was aimed right at Ned’s head not four foot away. Even clumsy Hall couldn’t miss from that distance. I was only a few feet away myself. I heard the crack as the gun fired, saw a plume of smoke rising. Ned didn’t move a muscle. No doubt he thought he’d seen his last. But the gun had misfired. Ned was frozen to the spot. Hall moved towards him. He pulled the trigger again—and again. The gun misfired for a second and then a third time.

Ned suddenly came to life. There were still three shots left in the gun. It was pure luck that he’d survived so far. He wasn’t ready to trust to luck any more. He leapt at Hall, one hand grabbing the revolver, the other getting a fistful of the constable’s fat neck. Hall squawked like a chicken about to have its neck wrung. Before I knew it, there were half a dozen men on Ned’s back. Hall pulled the revolver from Ned’s grasp and bashed him over the head with it again and again. I went over to try and stop him, before he killed the boy. Blood was pouring from his head, but Ned was staring straight at Hall’s sweating face. His eyes flickered. He was holding on to consciousness by sheer force of will. I’d guess he didn’t want to give that fat pig the satisfaction of saying he’d knocked Ned Kelly out cold.

James Gloster, hawker

Short and Sweet

On Ned’s prison record, under “Particular Marks” is a list of nine scars. Four of them were on his head and were probably the result of Constable Hall hitting him with the butt of his revolver.

Ned had to have nine stitches in his head. He had only been released from jail a few weeks and he was in trouble again. This time it was more serious. Ned thought the horse he was riding belonged to a man called “Wild” Wright who had been staying at the Kelly house. The horse had been put in a paddock, but had got out and disappeared into the bush. The horse was found after Wild had left. There was one important fact that Wild hadn’t mentioned to the Kellys—the horse wasn’t his. He had stolen it.

Ned had made an enemy of Senior Constable Hall the previous year. Hall had asked Ned to draw his uncle Jimmy Quinn into a fight so that the police could arrest him. Uncle Jimmy was a troublemaker. Ned didn’t like him. He agreed to help Constable Hall. He had no trouble annoying his uncle enough to make him pick a fight. He ran to the police station for protection and Hall arrested Uncle Jimmy. But when Ned had to tell his story in front of a judge and jury, he confessed that Hall had put him up to it. Since then, Hall had been out to get Ned. When Ned rode into town on a stolen horse, Hall had his opportunity.

If Constable Hall’s gun had worked properly, the story of Ned Kelly would have ended right there and no one would have remembered his name.

Justice

“I threw big cowardly Hall on his belly I straddled him and rooted both spurs onto his thighs he roared like a big calf attacked by dogs.”

Ned’s version of his arrest by Hall, Jerilderie Letter, February 1879

Ned insisted that he didn’t know the horse was stolen. If he had known, he would hardly have been so stupid as to ride it around Wangaratta in broad daylight. Constable Hall was keen to get Ned back for letting him down in court. The judge was happy to make an example of the young larrikin. There was a problem though. The horse had been reported stolen while Ned was still in jail, so he couldn’t be charged with horse stealing. He was charged instead with receiving a stolen horse. Wild Wright, the man who had actually stolen the horse, was sentenced to 18 months in jail. Ned was sentenced to three years hard labour.