Black Snake (7 page)

A Cunning Plan

Ned decided to “stick up” the National Bank of Australia in the town of Euroa. He’d given the matter a lot of thought. The bank was on the edge of the town, away from the main street. And a few kilometres away there was a property called Faithfull’s Creek, which he could use as headquarters. Rich squatters who lived in the city owned it. This suited his needs perfectly.

Ned and Joe Byrne tried to think of everything they would need and everything that could go wrong. They worked on their plan until they thought it was flawless. On Tuesday, 10 December 1878, a funeral was taking place in Euroa as well as a hotel-licensing meeting. Many of the townsfolk would be taking part in either one of these events. That was the day the Kelly Gang would rob the bank.

Best-dressed Bushrangers

The robbery was to be no hit-and-run affair. The gang didn’t want to ride into town, guns blazing, steal the money and gallop off again. This would result in an immediate response to track them down. They wanted it to be a quiet business, unnoticed by the townspeople, so that they would have plenty of time to get away before the alarm was raised.

The first thing they did was hold up the homestead at Faithfull’s Creek the day before they intended to rob the bank. They rounded up the farm workers and locked them in a storehouse. The people working on the farm assumed the Kelly Gang had come to rob them, but they hadn’t. They planned to launch the robbery from there.

James Gloster, a travelling salesman, arrived soon after the gang. He was a regular visitor to the area selling clothing and household goods from the back of his wagon. The gang locked him in the storeroom with the other men while they sorted through his wares looking for new clothing. It seemed as if Gloster had unwittingly stumbled into the middle of a bank robbery. But it was no accident. It was prearranged. Gloster was a friend of the Kellys. Each gang member selected an outfit from among the hawker’s stock—everything fitted perfectly. Ned didn’t want his gang looking like a bunch of ruffians. Ned selected brown tweed trousers and vest, a blue coat and a felt hat. He completed his outfit with a pink tie. Dan chose an outfit similar to his brother’s. The other two preferred suits—Joe’s light grey, Steve’s dark grey. They all put white handkerchiefs in their jacket pockets and splashed on some cologne. Then they were ready—the best- dressed bushrangers ever seen.

They spent the night at the homestead and the following day they cut the telegraph wires leading to Euroa. A party of passing kangaroo hunters and a man who came to fix the telegraph wires joined the prisoners in the storehouse. The gang borrowed Gloster’s wagon and the hunters’ cart and rode into town, leaving Joe to watch the prisoners.

A Stick-up

It was some time after 4 p.m. when the gang rode sedately into the deserted town. The bank was closed. Ned knocked on the door asking to see the bank manager. When the bank teller refused to let him enter, Ned pushed his way in. Steve was close behind him. They both drew revolvers and Ned asked the manager to hand over the money. Meanwhile Dan had gone round the back in case anyone tried to get away. They collected over £2000 worth of coins, banknotes and gold. They were disappointed. They had hoped there would be much more than that.

Ned didn’t want news of the robbery to spread too soon, so he took the bank manager and his employees as prisoners. As the bank manager lived behind the bank, Ned also had to round up his wife, seven children, mother-in-law and two servants. Borrowing another cart to carry this crowd, the gang made their way back to the homestead at Faithfull’s Creek. They had something to eat, let their prisoners out for some exercise and entertained them with a show of their trick riding skills. When it grew dark, they told their captives to give them three hours start before they let anyone know what had happened, then they disappeared into the night.

A Red Letter

During the day-and-a-half spent at the homestead, as well as guarding the prisoners, Joe Byrne had been busy with another task. Ned believed that if only people knew the truth about his life—how the police had hounded his family, the innocence of his mother—then they would understand why he’d been driven to bushranging. Ned had previously dictated a long and rambling letter to Joe who, being the one with the best handwriting, wrote it down. In Joe’s spare time at the homestead, he made two neat copies of the letter in red ink. Ned posted one to a politician in Melbourne by the name of Donald Cameron and the other to Superintendent Sadleir. The first letter has survived and is now known as the Cameron Letter.

“No doubt I am now placed in very peculiar circumstances and you might blame me for it but if you knew how I have been wronged and persecuted you would say I cannot be blamed.”

Ned thinks he has been wronged, Cameron Letter

“It seems impossible for me to get any justice without I make a statement to someone that will take notice of it, as it is no use in me complaining about anything that the Police may choose to say or swear against me and the public in their ignorance and blindness will undoubtedly back them up to their utmost.”

Ned’s lack of faith in police justice, Cameron Letter

Public Relations

In the following days, newspapers all over the country were full of details of the bank robbery. The mood of the reporters had changed. They were impressed by the skill and care that had gone into the planning of the robbery. They called it “audacious” and “daring” and said it was more like something that had happened in a novel than a real event. The released prisoners told how they had been treated well. The women reported how polite the young men had been, and how well dressed. The police, who were still busy searching in other parts of the colony, were spoken of less kindly.

There was one disappointment for Ned. The police had forbidden newspapers to publish his letter. Reporters had quoted bits from the letter though. It was better than nothing.

Ned’s plan had worked perfectly. Not only had they robbed the bank and got clean away, they had also started to change people’s opinions of the Kelly Gang. In what we would today call a “public relations (PR) exercise”, Ned had made a conscious effort to get people to like him. The public no longer thought of him as a rough, uncouth bushranger, but a clever, smartly dressed man. His PR exercise had been a complete success.

Puzzling Pursuit

A magistrate had noticed the broken telegraph wires as he’d passed Faithfull’s Creek on the train earlier that day. He got off the train at Benalla to alert the police. Superintendents Nicolson and Sadleir immediately swung into action. But instead of heading straight for Faithfull’s Creek, they jumped on the train and set out in the opposite direction! An informant had told them that the Kellys were on their way to New South Wales. They decided to act on this information. At the time, the gang were still at the Faithfull’s Creek homestead, just 45 kilometres away, and would have been an easy target. Once again, luck and police bungling were on Ned’s side.

The Kelly Gang did cross the Murray River into New South Wales, but not for another two months. They weren’t escaping from the Victorian police or looking for a place to hide. They were on their way to hold up another bank.

Two policemen who took part in the hunt for the Kellys. They wore ordinary clothes so that people didn’t know they were police.

What if you were there...

Some foolish people are saying it was the most exciting thing to ever happen in this town. Other misguided fools are declaring it will put Jerilderie on the map and make it famous forever. Some think it is amusing. I am not amused. It is an outrage.

I’d just ridden home from Urana, a gruelling 40-mile ride in fearfully hot weather. It was 22 minutes to five when I arrived home. I dismounted in the paddock behind the parson’s house and left my horse to feed and water itself. I trudged wearily to my own home behind the bank and went straight to the bathroom as I was in urgent need of a plunge bath. I had just filled the bath and was about to commence removing my dusty clothing when Mr Living, the bank’s accountant, appeared at the door.

“We’re held up, sir,” he said. “It’s the Kellys.”

I was not in the mood for humorous nonsense. “What rubbish,” I replied, ordering him to get himself back to the bank chamber immediately while I attended to my bath.

“It’s not rubbish,” said a rough-accented voice. “We want your key to the safe.”

I turned and there was a young man with a most insolent expression on his face and a revolver in each hand, both pointed in my direction. Thus I was persuaded that Living was not joking.

The safe in my bank is opened using two keys—one of which is in my possession, the other in the possession of Mr Living. The long, hot ride had not left me in a good humour. I knew there was no possibility that I could foil the robbers’ evil intentions, but I could at least delay them.

“I will finish my bath first, if it’s all the same to you,” I said and shut the door in the bushranger’s face.

I completed my toilet, put on some trousers, a silk bathrobe and my smoking cap. Feeling refreshed, I was escorted to the Royal Mail Hotel next door to the bank. There I made the acquaintance of Ned Kelly, who immediately demanded that I open the safe. Though it vexed me sorely, I had no choice but to do as he asked. The outlaws grasped at the bags of money and also some jewellery, which was being held for safekeeping. Kelly then pulled out a number of documents—deeds, mortgages and the like—which were also in the safe. He set light to them while he ranted about banks being the enemy of the poor.

The outlaws seemed disappointed by the amount of money kept in the bank and searched for more. Once they were persuaded that they had it all, they escorted Living and myself back to the Royal Mail and bought us all a drink. I at first declined, but then thought a drop of spirits might steel my nerves should an opportunity to overpower the outlaws arise.

Their vile deed was done, but they seemed in no hurry to leave our town. Kelly saw fit to make a speech to his prisoners, now some 30-odd people, and lectured us about how the police had mistreated him and left him no choice but to murder three of their number. Then he announced we could all leave if we liked.

Still the outlaws seemed in no rush to depart. I caught the eye of the junior clerk and told him to fetch my horse. By this time the crowd was dispersing and Kelly was out in the street talking to Reverend Gribble. Ensuring that no one was watching, I went round the back of the hotel where the clerk was holding my horse.

“I shall ride like the wind,” I told him. “They’ll never catch me.”

Mr John Tarleton, Bank Manager, Jerilderie

Another Robbery

“If I had robbed and plundered ravished and murdered everything I met young and old rich and poor, the public could not do any more than take firearms and Assisting the police as they have done.”

Ned feels the public is against him, Jerilderie Letter

The already saddle-sore bank manager rode another 92 kilometres to Deniliquin to raise the alarm. He didn’t get there until 6 a.m. the following day. Once again the slow communications of the time meant that the Kelly Gang had plenty of time to make their leisurely escape.

The £2000 that they had stolen from the Euroa bank didn’t last long. It was a small fortune in 1878, but Ned had generously shared the money with his family and friends and by February the gang needed more funds.

Confident after the success of the last bank hold- up and the grudging praise it had brought from the press, Ned had a plan for another bank robbery. This one was even more daring than the last.

Counterfeit Troopers

He chose the Bank of New South Wales in the town of Jerilderie. The bank was in the heart of the main street. The gang planned to size up the town on Sunday and rob the bank on Monday. For their headquarters, instead of a remote homestead, Ned chose the police station.