The Kellys Stick up the Town of Jerilderie; Robbery of the Bank of
New South Wales; A Symposium in the Royal Hotel; A Three-days' Spree;
"Hurrah for the Good Old Times of Morgan and Ben Hall"; the Robbers
Take a Rest for a Year; The Kelly Sympathisers Again; The Kellys
Reappear; Murder of Aaron Sherritt.
After the bank robbery the "gentlemen of the Strathbogie Ranges"
again retired to their mountain fastnesses. Occasionally a paragraph
in one of the local newspapers recorded the movements of the police
or furnished a story about the black trackers, but these notices
were necessarily very meagre, as the police declined to furnish any
information as to their proceedings or intentions, because this would
be of more use to the bushrangers than to any one else. For more than a
month nothing reliable had been heard of them. Even the reports of the
arrest and detention of numbers of "bush telegraphs" failed to attract
any attention, and the Kelly gang had almost ceased to be spoken
of, when suddenly the whole country was roused by the news that the
bushrangers had stuck up the town of Jerilderie, in New South Wales.
Jerilderie is situated on the Yanko Creek, not far from its junction
with the Billabong, and at that time contained about 300 inhabitants,
a bank, four public-houses, a post and telegraph office, and several
churches, schools, and other buildings. The local police station
and lock-up was near the outside of the town, and there were two
officers--Constables Devine and Richards--stationed there. At midnight
of February 8th, 1879, a man roused Constable Devine from his bed, and
informed him that a row had taken place at Davidson's Hotel and a man
had been killed. He exhorted the constable to "come quick." Constable
Devine woke Constable Richards and both dressed as hastily as possible.
When they came out they were confronted by Ned Kelly, revolver in
hand, and ordered to "bail up." Not having their arms on them, and
being taken completely by surprise, the two constables surrendered at
once and were locked up in the cells. The bushrangers then compelled
Mrs. Devine, who had also partially dressed, to hand over all arms
and ammunition, and took possession of the lock-up, remaining quietly
there till morning, their horses being placed in the police stables
at the rear. It was Sunday morning, and as the Catholic church had
not yet been finished, the court-house had been rented for religious
purposes, and Mrs. Devine had been accustomed to clean up the place,
set the temporary altar, and place the forms and chairs ready for mass.
The bushrangers told her to perform her task as usual, after having
extorted a promise from her that she would not mention their presence
to any one, and to make certain of her keeping her word one of them,
dressed as a constable, went with her to the court-house and stayed
while she swept the floor and prepared the room. Then they returned to
the lock-up, which was about one hundred yards from the court-house,
and remained there all day, the bushrangers, arrayed in the constables'
uniforms, sitting quietly in the guard-room. No doubt numbers of people
passed and saw them, but no one had any suspicion that the bushrangers
were in charge instead of the police.
Early on Monday morning Byrnes took two horses to the blacksmith's
shop to be shod, and the blacksmith, feeling some doubt as to the
_bonâ-fides_ of the pseudo trooper, made a note of the brands on the
horses. At about ten a.m. Ned and Dan Kelly, accompanied by Constable
Richards, went to the Royal Hotel, the largest hotel in the town, where
Richards formally introduced them to the proprietor, Mr. Cox. Ned
informed Mr. Cox that he required the use of some rooms, as the gang
intended sticking up the bank. He selected a large and a small room
on the ground floor, near the bar, and conducted the few men about at
the time into the large room, where they were ordered to remain until
given permission to depart. Dan Kelly was placed on guard at the door
to keep order and prevent anybody from escaping, and was instructed
to shoot the first man who refused to do as he was told. On Mr. Cox
passing his word, as a gentleman, not to mention their presence to any
one who should come in, he was permitted to take charge of the bar as
usual, and was given to understand that he would be held responsible
for the discretion of the women and servants. Any one of them whom he
could not trust was to be sent into the large room. The preliminaries
were arranged so unostentatiously and quietly, that no rumour of the
presence of the bushrangers had yet been heard, and as customers
dropped into the hotel they were taken into the big room, and told to
remain on penalty of death.
Having made these arrangements, Ned Kelly walked into the hotel yard
to reconnoitre. There was a detached kitchen here, and the rear of the
bank of New South Wales was only a few yards from the rear of this
kitchen. The bank faced on another street, and there was no dividing
fence between the yard at the back of the bank and the hotel yard. Hart
was placed on watch near the kitchen, while Byrnes entered the back
door of the bank. Mr. Living, the teller, was in the bank chamber. He
was not surprised to hear a man enter by the back door, as Mr. Cox
and other customers frequently came in that way, it being a short cut
from the hotel. Suddenly, however, Byrnes came to the counter, pointed
a revolver at Living's head, and cried out, "I'm Kelly, keep quiet."
Living held his hands above his head. "Where's your pistols?" asked
Byrnes. "I've got none," replied Living. Byrnes then ordered Living
and the accountant Mackie to "Come over to the hotel." They came from
behind the counter and did as they were told, Byrnes following them.
When they reached the door of the large room Dan Kelly inquired,
"Where's Tarleton?" "In his room," replied Living. "Then go and fetch
him and no---- nonsense," said Dan. Living went back to the bank,
but being unable to find the manager in his rooms began to fear that
something might have happened to him. He was about to return to the
hotel to inform the Kellys that he could not find the manager, when he
heard a splashing. He went to the bathroom and knocked. Tarleton had
been for a forty-mile ride that morning, and had just returned and
was having a wash. When he opened the door and was informed that the
town was in possession of the Kelly gang, and the bank was stuck up,
he laughed heartily, believing it to be a huge joke. Living assured
him that it was not a laughing matter, but he was still incredulous.
However, he dressed and went to the hotel, where he soon discovered
that what he had deemed impossible had come to pass. The three bank
officials were placed in the large room. Tarleton, who took a seat next
to Constable Richards, whispered, "I can knock Hart down, shall I?"
"What's the good?" replied the constable, "Dan Kelly's there, and he'd
shoot you down at once."
Ned Kelly had hitherto been walking round as a sort of
inspector-general of the proceedings and giving orders. He now entered
the room and ordered drinks to be served all round. Then he made a
speech in which he blamed Constable Fitzpatrick for all that had
occurred. "I wasn't within a hundred miles of Greta when he was shot,"
said Ned, "and up to then I'd never killed a man in my life." He
went on to say that he had stolen two hundred and eighty horses from
Whitby's station, and had sold them at Baumgarten's. He took out a
revolver and exclaimed: "This was Lonergan's! I took it from him. The
gun I shot him with was a crooked, worn-out thing, not worth picking
up. I shot him because he threatened my mother and my sister if they
refused to tell where Ned Kelly was. The police are worse than the----
black trackers. I came here to shoot Devine and Richards, and I'm
going to do it." The men at the table began to intercede for Richards,
who was sitting quietly among them and who did not speak, but Kelly
exclaimed dramatically, "He must die."
Ned got the key of the bank safe and took £1450 worth of notes and
money from it. He also took £691 from the teller's drawers. While thus
employed, Messrs. Gill, Hardie, and Rankin came in on business in the
ordinary course and were ordered to bail up. They turned and ran. Ned
Kelly followed and caught Rankin, but the others got away. Ned was
furious at this escape. He said that news of their presence would be
all over the place in a few minutes, and he swore he would shoot Rankin
in revenge. He took Rankin to the hotel, stood him up against the wall
in the passage and flourished his revolver about. The men in the room
pleaded that Rankin might be spared, and urged that he could not have
prevented Gill and Hardie from running away. While this was going on
Byrnes came in with Mr. Hardie and said that they could not find Gill,
the proprietor of the local newspaper, as he had not returned to his
office. Ned Kelly then let Rankin go and declared that he would burn
the newspaper office. Mr. Gill it is said went out of the town and hid
in a clump of trees by the side of the river till evening. Ned then
walked down to McDougall's Hotel and shouted for about thirty men who
were in or about the hotel at the time. On his return to the Royal
Hotel he was informed that Hart had robbed the Rev. Mr. Gribble of a
gold watch. He called Hart up and asked indignantly, "What right has a
thing like you to rob a clergyman?" He swore a good deal and compelled
Hart to give the watch back. Complaints were made that he had stolen a
new saddle and bridle from a saddler's shop, and some other articles
from other places. Ned called him a ---- thief, and ordered him to
return everything he had taken.
Ned Kelly paid more than one visit to the Post and Telegraph Office
to "see how things were going on." The robbers had cut the wires on
either side of the town before their entry and had chopped down seven
telegraph posts in the main street near the office. They had given
orders to Mr. Jefferson, the telegraph master, that no repairs should
be attempted until permission was given, and Ned took care that these
orders were obeyed. The robbers held the town for three days, in
imitation of the manner in which the Hall and Gilbert gang had held
Canowindra. Jerilderie was at this time slightly larger than Canowindra
at the time when it had been stuck up and held, but there was less
traffic through it, and consequently less connection between it and the
outer world than with Canowindra. The road running through Jerilderie
leads from Conargo to Narrandera. Jerilderie is about thirty miles
from Conargo and sixty-five from Narrandera. All round are huge sheep
and cattle stations, with only a few men employed on them except at
shearing or mustering time. All through the remainder of the year the
traffic is inconsiderable. There was in Jerilderie, however, a large
wool-washing and fellmongery establishment which employed a fair number
of workmen. Canowindra, on the other hand, was a wayside town on the
main road from Bathurst to Forbes, the traffic being considerable all
the year round. There were also several small diggings settlements
not far away, and the residents of these frequently came to purchase
articles from the stores at Canowindra. It was far easier, therefore,
to isolate Jerilderie for three days than it had been Canowindra in
the earlier days of bushranging. The Hall and Gilbert gang also robbed
everybody except the landlord of the hotel they took possession of.
The Kellys, on the other hand, robbed no one outside of the bank.
Jerilderie also was a much more compact town than Canowindra, the
latter consisting of one long straggling street, with only a few houses
outside this line, while Jerilderie had several cross streets, and at
least two parallel with the river.
The robbers held the town from midnight on Saturday, until about four
p.m. on the Wednesday following. Shortly before the men were allowed to
leave the Royal Hotel, Ned Kelly gave Living a paper which he said gave
a history of his life, and the truth about what he had done. Living
promised that he would do his best to get it published, and handed it
to Mr. Gill, who read it and forwarded it to the Government. It was a
long rambling statement, in some parts quite incoherent, and much of it
false. It was never published. At about four o'clock Byrnes left the
town in the direction of the Murray River. He was riding his own horse,
and had the money stolen from the bank packed on one of the police
horses, which he was leading. A minute or two later Dan Kelly and Steve
Hart mounted their horses, and galloped several times up and down the
main street, flourishing their revolvers and shouting, "Hurrah for the
good old times of Morgan and Ben Hall." Then they left the town along
the main road. Ned Kelly, mounted on his gray mare and leading a second
police horse, left some minutes later. Before going, he rode from the
police station to the Royal Hotel, and told the men detained in the
large room there that they were free.
The bushrangers had left the town by different routes, probably to
prevent any information as to the road they had travelled from being
furnished to the police, but no doubt they had arranged where they
should meet outside at a safe distance. Late in the evening they rode
up to Wannamurra station, about twenty-five miles from Jerilderie, when
Ned Kelly asked Mr. A. Mackie whether his brother was at home yet? Mr.
Mackie replied that he did not know. "I'm going to shoot him for giving
horses to Living and Tarleton to ride to Deniliquin for the traps,"
said Ned. They all went to the station together, but evidence was soon
brought forward to prove that the bank employés had not obtained horses
from Mr. Mackie, and at length Ned exonerated that gentleman for what
he called "his treachery," but forcibly expressed his intention of
shooting Living. "I gave him back his life policy," he said, "and I
only burned two or three of the bank books instead of the lot to oblige
him. He asked for them, and I treated him as fair as I could, and now
he takes advantage of my kindness to betray me." He walked up and down
on the verandah of the house for several minutes swearing at Living,
and more than once said he had a good mind to go back and "settle him"
at once. His rage, however, soon subsided, and the gang proceeded on
their way, no attempt being made to detain them.
Jerilderie lies about one hundred and fifty miles, as the crow flies,
from where the bushrangers were supposed to have been hidden, in
the Strathbogie Mountains, and when the news of the bank robbery
at Jerilderie was telegraphed all over the country, wonder was
everywhere expressed as to how the robbers had crossed this country,
some of it thickly populated, without being perceived. The skill with
which the robbery had been planned, the boldness and completeness
of the arrangements, and the apparent ease with which it had been
accomplished, made the Kelly gang the principal topic of conversation.
The New South Wales Government issued a proclamation declaring Ned and
Dan Kelly, Joe Byrnes, and Steve Hart outlaws, and offered a reward of
£3000 for their capture, dead or alive. The associated banks of the
colony supplemented this reward by another of £1000. The Victorian
Government increased the rewards already offered to the same amount
as was offered by the New South Wales Government, while the banks in
that colony added another £1000; thus making the total reward offered
for the capture of the four members of the gang £8000. Two thousand
pounds per man was the highest reward ever offered for the capture of
bushrangers in Australia.
For some time the police of New South Wales scoured the country round
Jerilderie and the plains between that town and the Victorian border,
while the Victorian police were quite as active on their side of the
Murray River, until at length it was definitely ascertained that the
bushrangers were safe back in their mountain fastnesses. The paragraphs
published from time to time in the Beechworth, the Benalla, and the
Wangaratta papers, and in local papers even further removed from the
home of the Kellys, tend to show that although the black boys failed to
follow a trail in the mountains with the certainty and skill displayed
by them in leveller country, they still kept the outlaws in a continual
state of fear of capture. Ned Kelly is reported to have called them
"those six little black devils," and to have sworn to shoot them if
ever he "got the chance." "Those---- trackers," he cried, "I'd like
to shoot 'em. They're no ---- good in this country. They can't track
in Victoria. I can track as well as they can out on the plains. I
can run an emu's trail for miles as well as them. They may be good
in Queensland or the plains, but they're no good in the mountains."
Nevertheless they worried him, as his frequent complaints of their
activity prove. The district was no doubt a difficult one to track in.
None but a first-class horseman could ride through it with any degree
of certainty, and no one but an aborigine or a white man born in the
district could cross the ravines and gullies without getting hopelessly
"bushed," without a guide.
The arrests and detentions of Kelly's sympathisers continued with
increased vigour. "Wild" Wright and his brother Tom, relatives of the
Kellys, Frank Hart, brother of the bushranger, the Lloyds and others,
passed a considerable portion of their time in the cells of the various
lock-ups around the district. Robert Miller was arrested and detained
because his daughter, a daring horsewoman, was observed to go into
the mountains at night with what were supposed to be provisions for
the bushrangers. She was followed more than once, but contrived to
elude her pursuers by plunging up or down a steep mountain, or across
an almost impassable gully. She never started twice in the same
track, sometimes going up one spur or ravine, and next time choosing
a different one, and leading even the black trackers astray. The
newspapers frequently urged the folly of detaining the father while the
daughter was left free to furnish the outlaws with food and news. The
plain fact is, that when special laws have to be applied, there should
be no exceptions; otherwise they are valueless. In this case the women
were far more active and reliable partisans of the Kellys than the men,
and, as there can be little doubt that the Outlawry Act was strained,
to put it mildly, by the police and the local magistracy, with the
connivance of the Government, another turn of the screw would not have
made the actions of the authorities any more illegal, and might have
made them efficient. However, determined as the authorities were to
stamp out lawlessness, they did not carry their own illegal acts to
this extreme point, and probably this postponed, though it did not
prevent, the end which was inevitable, as it always must be when a few
array themselves against an overwhelming majority.
It was about this time that the name of Aaron Sherritt was first heard
of in connection with the bushrangers. Sherritt was the son of an
ex-policeman. He was about twenty-four years of age and had settled in
the district some time earlier. He selected one hundred and seven acres
of ground on the Woolshed Creek, and the Kellys and Byrnes helped him
to fence it in and clear part of it. He had, however, recently sold
his farm to a Mr. Crawford, of Melbourne, and had built himself a hut
at Sebastopol, about two miles away, until he could take up another
selection. He was engaged to be married to a sister of Joe Byrnes, and
was regarded as one of the family. He was suspected of having taken a
share in some of the extensive horse-stealing raids in company with
the Kellys and their friends, and had been in consequence an object of
police suspicion and supervision. This was the man to whom the police
made advances, and, by promising him the whole of the eight thousand
pounds reward offered for the capture of the bushrangers, on condition
that it should be through his aid and assistance that this capture was
effected, they succeeded in winning him over to their side. He led
Superintendent Hare and a party of police into the innermost recesses
of the mountains, and pointed out several camps where the bushrangers
had been; but, in each case, the bushrangers appeared to have received
warning and to have removed before the police came. Some thought that
Sherritt was playing a double game, and that he contrived to let the
bushrangers know when the police might be expected to arrive, but there
appears to be no foundation for this opinion, as it delayed his chance
of obtaining the reward. At first he was careful not to be seen in
company with the police, but their association could not be kept secret
for long, and Sherritt soon became suspected by the Kelly family. One
day Mrs. Byrnes openly accused him of trying to betray her son. There
was a row, and Sherritt was ordered from the house, his engagement with
the daughter being broken off. After that Sherritt appeared more openly
in company of the police, parties of whom were constantly watching the
homes of the four bushrangers on the chance of capturing them should
they visit their parents or other relatives. Sherritt married the
daughter of another settler in the district, and all communications
between him and the families of the bushrangers were broken off.
Sherritt instead of being a friend was considered an enemy of the
bushrangers.
During the latter half of 1879 and the first half of 1880 nothing of
any importance was heard as to the movements of the bushrangers. More
than once it was reported that they had left the country, sometimes it
was said for New Zealand, and at other times for America, but these
reports were invariably contradicted within a few days, and the Kellys
were said to be still somewhere in the ranges. Sometimes it was said
that the money stolen from the Jerilderie Bank must be all expended,
and that the Kellys would be forced to leave their hiding-place
shortly, but frequently, during the twelvemonths following that raid,
nothing would be heard of the bushrangers for weeks, and the public
almost forgot that there was such a gang in existence. Then suddenly
came the news that the robbers had shot Aaron Sherritt on June 27th,
1880.
For some weeks a party of police had been secreted, as much as
possible, in Sherritt's house, for the purpose of watching Byrne's
mother's house, and four of them were quietly sitting in the inner
room at the time of the murder. The particulars of the murder were
as follows:--A German market-gardener named Antoine Weeks was living
on the Woolshed Creek, not far from Sherritt's and Byrnes's houses.
He was walking home on the evening of the day mentioned when he was
met by Dan Kelly and Joe Byrnes. "Do you know who we are?" asked Dan.
"No," replied Weeks. "Well, we're the Kellys," said Dan; "you do as we
tell you and no harm will come to you." They handcuffed the German,
and led him along the road to Sherritt's house. Here Dan told him to
shout "Aaron." Weeks did so, and on Aaron Sherritt coming to the door
to ascertain who wanted him, Byrnes shot him dead without a word. The
bushrangers took the handcuffs off of Weeks and told him to go home.
Then they went to the door of the hut, called Mrs. Sherritt out, and
told her that she had better send some of the---- traps in her house
out to bury her husband, because "We've shot him for being a traitor."
The Kellys were fully aware that the police were in the house, and
called on them to come out and "fight like men." If the constables
had come out as invited they would have been courting almost certain
death. A bright wood fire was burning in the hut and the front room
was as bright as day, while all outside was as dark as possible. Had
the police therefore left the shelter of the inner room and entered
the front apartment they would have been shot down before they could
have seen their enemies, whose whereabouts could only have been guessed
at from their shots or from the flash of their revolvers. Going to
the door under these conditions would have been almost tantamount to
committing suicide. The bushrangers raged round the hut calling the
police the most opprobious names and threatening and taunting them in
hopes of inducing them to come into the light, but as the police kept
quiet and made no reply whatever to their taunts the bushrangers swore
that they would "burn 'em like rats in a trap." They fired through the
windows and doors, but they appear to have been just as unwilling to
enter the lighted room as the police were. In fact neither party would
give the other a chance. The robbers remained round the hut at this
labour of hate until two a.m., when they departed. At daybreak one of
the troopers went to where the horses were kept, and rode to Benalla
to give information of the reappearance of the Kellys, while the other
three followed on the tracks of the outlaws.