One of the most exciting things for bushranger enthusiasts in 2017 was Foxtel’s original documentary series Lawless: the Real Bushrangers, the first time in years that a documentary about the bushrangers had been attempted. Several documentaries about Ned Kelly were made in the early 2000s riding on the success of Peter Carey’s book True History of the Kelly Gang but the last time any attempts had been made to do anything about the other bushrangers was the abandoned docu-drama mini-series Bushranger Country in the early 1990s (read about that here). Lawless had a clear mission statement too – to extract the truth from the myths and solve some of the most enduring mysteries in bushranging history – no mean feat. The series focused on four mysteries: did Ned Kelly kill in cold blood at Stringybark Creek? ; who shot Constable Webb-Bowen during the Wantabadgery siege? ; Was Ben Hall murdered in his sleep? ; and did Paddy and Jim Kenniff really commit the murders they were convicted for?
Bail Up!: The Kelly Gang attack the police camp at Stringybark Creek.
Episode one was very controversial upon its release for its anti-Kelly leanings as much as for the revelations pertaining to the actual location of the shootings at Stringybark Creek. The re-enactments are visually glorious but woefully inaccurate – a trend that is consistent throughout the series. The effort made to utilise modern technology to ascertain the correct location of the shootings is impressive but definitely ruffles feathers if you prescribe to any of the alternative site theories. The inclusion of descendants to drive home the point that these were real people who were involved in the incident, not abstract ideas of good and evil, is potent. We also see well known bushranger historian and general enthusiast Steve Jager getting a brilliant Ned Kelly tattoo to raise the issue of men with Ned Kelly tattoos having a statistically higher chance of dying young from violent means, a study that Lawless team member Roger Byard entered the public spotlight over a few years back. Overall the conclusions of this episode are compelling but will not be enough to persuade Kelly buffs. The star of this installment is Adam Ford whose archaeological approach is the most significant element in terms of its findings.
Who Killed Constable Bowen?: Gus Wernicke watches as Constable Webb-Bowen reloads.
The Captain Moonlite episode is more of the same, using a mix of high tech and forensics to work out the layout of McGlede’s farm and the nature of Gus Wernicke’s wounds, however this episode hinges more on the work of historian Kiera Lindsey. Lindsey creates a profile of Andrew Scott based on available documents and highlights the questionable approach to his trial. This profile of Scott makes him more accessible to the viewer and begins to make sense of his decisions. Lindsey also refers to Scott’s letters, written in his last days, to confirm the relationship between him and James Nesbitt. Adam Ford does brilliant work on the site of the McGlede’s farm, but the conclusion doesn’t quite gel with existing information. Once more there are descendants, though the people selected are a little on the tenuous side.
You’ll never hang Ben Hall: Was Ben Hall’s death an illegal execution?
Episode three is all about Ben Hall and it is Byard’s chance to shine. Using forensic testing he establishes a greater understanding of how Hall died and in conjunction with the research from Kiera Lindsey reveals a chilling fact about the conduct of the police on the day Hall was killed. Adam Ford meanwhile goes on a wild goose chase in a field of lupin because he didn’t do his research correctly and is determined to find what he considers to be the true location of Hall’s death based on a deliberately incorrect map. Unfortunately this episode is probably the weakest of the bunch based solely on the fact that there’s considerably less of it to work with.
In the name of the father: The gruesome scene in Lethbridge’s Pocket as the Kenniffs dispose of evidence.
The final episode is Mike Munro’s crowning moment, putting the spotlight on his ancestors – the Kenniff brothers. This is the episode that really makes the series as Munro’s passion for the story helps to draw out more detail than in the previous three installments. Munro has clearly spent a considerable amount of time researching the story and for many this is their introduction to it. Munro demonstrates the wild Carnarvon Ranges and some of the spots utilised by the Kenniffs – secrets handed down through his family. Kiera Lindsey’s research complements Munro’s brilliantly and we see Adam Ford and Roger Byard in top form too, uncovering archaeological evidence of the incident as well as solving a big unknown about the manner in which the victims were disposed of. The revelations about who may have been the real culprits is a huge bombshell unveiled by a local indigenous elder. As the episode concludes it drives home the importance of this history on Munro’s family as the effects are echoing into a sixth generation of the family.
The Lawless team use a variety of new technologies to piece together clues.
Overall the series is a slick, stylish and engaging foray into the world of bushrangers. The episodes are somewhat frustrating in their limited scope, focused on one aspect of a single story each, yet this will appeal to the casual viewer or people who know very little about bushrangers. The revelations in each episode are definitely worth further scrutiny and open up possibilities for future investigations. The relationships between the team members is one of the keys to the success of the series, especially the blossoming bromance between Adam Ford and Mike Munro. This is clearly a well chosen group of experts who are both very good at what they do and are also engaging to watch, regardless of whether you agree with their opinions. The DVD itself is light on features, only offering the four episodes and subtitles as well as scene selection, which is somewhat disappointing as there was a wealth of supplementary material featured on the website and social media for the show including interviews and interactive scenes that could have been added as special features. Hopefully if sales are strong Umbrella will be able to produce a Blu-Ray edition with the extras down the line (as long as demand for it exists). There are also rumoured plans for a second series that would be absolutely fantastic as there are a great many more mysteries to uncover. It would be amazing to see the team tackle mysteries such as the murder of the Special Constables at Jinden to establish if the Clarke Gang were responsible; where and when Frank Gardiner died; what happened to the skulls of Ned Kelly and Dan Morgan; or whether Captain Thunderbolt really did cheat death and so many more. There’s definitely plenty of material to mine for future installments but until then we have this wonderful quartet to keep our tastes satiated.
3D graphics help to illustrate the crime scenes.
Lawless: The Real Bushrangers is available on DVD from most retailers of fine audio-visual produce or online through Umbrella Entertainment.
October 26, 2017 marks the 139th anniversary of the police killings at Stringybark Creek, widely regarded as the worst single incident of police killing in Victorian history. Three police officers were killed in the line of duty hunting for Ned and Dan Kelly in dense forest and to this day there remains much controversy surrounding the event. Alas it is impossible to know exactly what happened, but by using testimony from Ned Kelly and Constable McIntyre as well as forensic evidence reported on at the time and analysed since, it becomes easier to piece together a narrative that makes sense. What follows is a condensed narrative of what occurred, not an authoritative account.
Prelude
After an incident at the Kelly house on 11 Mile Creek on April 15, 1878, involving police officer Constable Alexander Fitzpatrick, Ned Kelly and his youngest brother Dan were wanted for attempted murder. Their mother, brother in law and a family friend had been arrested, tried and imprisoned for their part in the assault while the brothers had fled to the bush. Ned Kelly had allegedly sent correspondence to the authorities stating that he and Dan would give themselves up in exchange for their mother’s release. This offer, if it was received, was rejected out of hand. The Kellys were in no position to bargain.
Meanwhile, in Mansfield Senior Constable Michael Kennedy was engaged in the hunt for the pair, regularly riding through the district and canvassing locals, assisted by Constable Thomas McIntyre. It was on one of these rides that Wild Wright seemingly warned McIntyre that Ned Kelly was not to be trifled with.
[Wright] told me on one occasion that I mentioned the matter to him that he would not betray Ned Kelly for all the money in Australia. He also several times said to me “Ned Kelly is mad.” I pressed him to explain what he meant but he only emphatically reiterated his statement.
It was during this time that the Kelly brothers were living in a hut on Bullock Creek in the Wombat Ranges looking for gold and distilling bootleg whisky in an effort to raise money for a solicitor for their mother. They were joined here by Steve Hart and Joe Byrne for a time, presumably they had been assisting Dan with his digging. The Kellys must have clung to the vain hope that by laying low that the dust would settle, the opposite proved true.
The Hunt
In October Kennedy, now a sergeant, was informed by Superintendent Sadleir that he was required to take charge of one of two search parties that would try to snare the Kellys in a pincer movement. Kennedy had been selected for his renowned prowess with bush work as much as his leadership qualities. Unfortunately he had no experience with Ned or Dan Kelly at all. Kennedy requested that he be accompanied by McIntyre and his good friend Mounted Constable Michael Scanlan. Sadleir agreed but stipulated they would also be accompanied by Mounted Constable Thomas Lonigan from Violet Town as he could identify Ned Kelly from experience. Kennedy was unimpressed but had no choice. He promptly prepared for the mission by getting information on the forest the gang were supposed to be hiding in from as many people as possible.
When Lonigan received news that he had to join the party in Mansfield he did not welcome it. The incident with Fitzpatrick in April as well as an earlier incident he was involved with in Benalla had asserted just how dangerous Ned Kelly was. Ned Kelly had been arrested for being publicly intoxicated and fled from custody in the Benalla police station, hurtling down the road and around the corner before seeking refuge in the boot maker’s shop. A fight between Ned and the local Constables broke out and in an attempt to control Ned, Lonigan had used an old trick he probably learned during his time in the artillery called “blackballing” wherein he roughly grabbed Ned’s scrotum and held tight, resulting in the trousers ripping at the crotch. Lonigan’s grip on Ned’s testicles was not enough to subdue him but it was clearly enough to cause some damage to Ned’s ego if not his most private parts and gave Ned fuel for yet another in a long line of grudges against policemen. No doubt this was playing heavily on Lonigan’s mind as he set off to Mansfield, leaving behind his adoring wife and four children. It is telling that he returned after a few minutes to say goodbye again, something the normally stoic Irishman would not do.
The police came together in Mansfield and collected supplies as well as practiced bush skills that the majority of the party were unacquainted with. On the morning of the party beginning their mission Kennedy asked McIntyre to fetch the Spencer repeating rifle they had acquired. McIntyre was quite concerned that the rifle was far more overpowered than the task warranted, but Kennedy simply pointed to a copy of Ned Kelly’s mugshot they had been provided and stated “I do not like the look of this man.” As Kennedy and McIntyre packed their bags in the police station, Michael Scanlan was taking breakfast in a nearby establishment with his faithful dog by his side. As he dabbed his voluminous moustache with a napkin he asked a friend to look after the canine in his absence, going on to state “If I don’t come back, you can have my dog.” The party convened outside the police station, Lonigan arriving late for undisclosed reasons, then began on their fateful journey. It was October 25, 1878.
Wombat Ranges
Kennedy had assembled much information from locals about the area they were travelling through including waterways and crossings. However, Kennedy played his cards close to his chest despite frequent inquisition from McIntyre.
Some way into the journey McIntyre spotted a tiger snake on the track. With his revolver he blasted the reptile’s head off and gloated to his comrade “First blood Lonigan!” – a comment that it would not be hard to imagine going down like a lead balloon. McIntyre noted that Kennedy seemed agitated as they travelled through the forest. Could it be that his knowledge of the bush allowed him to sense that they were being followed?
Indeed, Ned had been patrolling the forest as a matter of course and had come across the police horses’ hoofprints in the soil. Perhaps thinking of information that had been given to him via the bush telegraph about three police parties on their way to take out he and his brother, even equipped with special straps designed to facilitate carrying corpses on a pack horse, Ned resolved to track the troopers. His intimate knowledge of the terrain and scrub enabled him to follow the police close enough to see what they were up to without being spotted.
When the police reached a clearing near an old hut by the banks of Stringybark Creek, Kennedy grabbed the Spencer repeater and stalked wordlessly off into the bush where they had just been while Lonigan and Scanlan set up the tents. McIntyre was befuddled but did what he could to give the others a hand. Kennedy was gone for some time and was quite perturbed upon returning when McIntyre gave him the third degree about wandering off alone. Kennedy thrust the Spencer into McIntyre’s hands and told him to go and find some kangaroos to shoot.
With the camp set up the police established a fire and began to eat. The bread was unfortunately too sour and the men were unanimous in their distaste. McIntyre offered to hunt some fowl and kangaroos in the morning to supplement their supplies. They all slept that night fairly soundly, exhausted from their trek. Little did the men in their tents realise that they were within a mile of their targets.
26 October
The next morning Kennedy elected to take Scanlan on a scout nearby but stated not to panic if they weren’t back before dark. Scanlan equipped himself with the Spencer repeater and the two friends left in a jovial mood with a packed lunch and quite probably Scanlan, a devil for drink when given the opportunity, had a flask concealed about his person to keep their spirits up figuratively and literally. Lonigan busied himself by reading The Vagabond Papers wherein Harry Power was interviewed in Pentridge, in part stating ominously that he believed that due to his temper Ned Kelly would have committed murder if he hadn’t stopped him. No doubt this did nothing to alleviate Lonigan’s fear and he was noticeably skittish throughout the day. McIntyre proceeded on a hunting mission as promised the previous night. McIntyre clearly considered something of a black-powder-wielding William Tell after the incident with the tiger snake. Heading close to the creek, McIntyre used a double barrelled shotgun to kill a selection of parrots and attempted to nab a couple of flighty kangaroos. His inexperience in bush work was never more evident than at this point for the sound of the shots travelled far quickly thanks to the awesome acoustics at Stringybark Creek. It would appear this allowed the Kelly brothers, Joe Byrne and Steve Hart to pinpoint the location of the police camp with ease.
After McIntyre had returned to camp Lonigan was even edgier than before. He made comment to McIntyre that he could hear movement in the undergrowth but McIntyre dismissed it as animals. In fact the Kelly Gang (as they would later be known) had found the camp and were laying low in the scrub to scope the site out, using the scrub for cover. McIntyre decided that billy tea was the solution to calm Lonigan’s nerves and he hoped the smoke from the fire would help guide Kennedy and Scanlan back. Lonigan strapped on his pistol belt and tended the horses then moved back across the camp. The two officers stood at the intersection of two logs by the fire. At this moment the desperadoes presented themselves.
Emerging from the tall grass and ferns surrounding the camp, Ned strode forward with his brother and companions and bellowed “Bail up!” while leveling a shabby modified carbine at the troopers. McIntyre put his hands out and Lonigan, behind McIntyre, jogged backwards, clutching at his revolver with his eyes on the new arrivals. As Dan, Joe and Steve covered McIntyre, Ned turned to his right and fired. In a flash Ned Kelly’s carbine discharged. McIntyre flinched but did not dare take his eyes off the bushrangers. Out of the warped muzzle sped what seems to have been a lead ball quartered into tiny pieces of deadly shrapnel. The largest piece of shrapnel pierced the outside of Lonigan’s left thigh, as the rest sliced into his left forearm, right temple and right eye. Lonigan reeled and staggered, tumbling to the ground gasping “Oh Christ! I’m shot!” as hot, jagged shrapnel and bone fragments bored its way into his brain. The immeasurable agony caused Lonigan to breathe with hideous, laboured breaths as he rose and plunged into the dirt until finally his body flopped belly up and all movement ceased. Within a moment Mounted Constable Thomas Lonigan was dead, aged thirty two years leaving behind a widow as well as a son and three daughters. Ned strode over and inspected the corpse muttering “What made the fellow run?” as if unaware that seeing a man approaching with a gun could instill enough fear to cause flight. Dan said in disbelief “He was a plucky fellow, did you see how he went at his revolver?” McIntyre was overwhelmed but would later state that he did not believe the bushrangers had descended upon the camp with the intention to take life, however Ned’s actions had forced a situation that would result in death as an inevitability.
The gang proceeded to raid the tents and Joe Byrne sat and smoked a pipe with McIntyre. Ned seemed incredibly agitated, pacing around and rambling. Joe drank the billy tea with McIntyre, making sure that the constable drank first in case it was poisoned. The gang made short work of McIntyre’s fresh bread, which gave him a slightly perverse sense of happiness to have his culinary skills appreciated. Ned spoke at length with McIntyre who asked many questions about his motives and made a point to mention that his life was insured as he had no beneficiaries in Victoria in the event of his death. Ned instructed McIntyre to force Kennedy and Scanlan to surrender so that no further blood should be shed. McIntyre agreed and Ned refused Dan’s suggestion to cuff McIntyre believing that the policeman’s word was enough to entice his colleagues to surrender. This would prove to be flawed logic at best.
The scouts return
Late in the afternoon as storm clouds rolled in, the gang had raided the tents and were taking advantage of the new weapons and ammunition they had acquired, Ned taking a particular liking to the double-barrelled shotgun. Suddenly McIntyre could hear voices approaching the camp. Kennedy and Scanlan were returning from a fruitless scout but were in good spirits. Before their horses reached the clearing the Kelly Gang hid themselves, Ned dropping down behind the log McIntyre was seated on the others using the tents as cover and training their guns on McIntyre. As the riders appeared McIntyre tried to remain calm and walked to them and stated “You’d better surrender, the Kellys have got us surrounded.” Kennedy was skeptical as he glanced around the camp for signs of anything amiss. Placing his hand on his holster he began “Well, in that case…” but never got to finish the thought.
Ned Kelly rose from cover and demanded the police throw down their arms. Kennedy drew his revolver and dismounted. Scanlan tried to unsling the Spencer repeater from his upper body but only managed to get it part way. The police opened fire, Kennedy firing his pistol over the rump of his horse, Scanlan firing from the hip. The gang, now fully equipped, fired back. A shot to Scanlan’s right side knocked him off his horse, the bullet shattering his rib and decimating his lung before lodging in his sternum. He hit the ground hard and struggled to get up, shakily getting on all fours as a flurry of bullets hit him in the right hip and shoulder. Kennedy’s horse broke away in the chaos and McIntyre grabbed it as it bolted in terror, leaping onto its back. Speeding away from the camp, he could not see the drama unfolding. In that moment the jolly 34 year-old County Kerry native collapsed into the dust, dying from internal haemorrhaging. Scanlan died as a bachelor with no next of kin in Australia.
As McIntyre fled the scene in an attempt to get help Dan Kelly could be heard shouting “Shoot that fellow!” and in a torrent of hot lead the horse was shot, causing McIntyre to be flung off the creature’s back. McIntyre regained control over the wounded beast and pressed on. Branches struck McIntyre mercilessly as the horses galloped through the forest until a particularly hefty branch caught McIntyre by surprise and hurled him out of the saddle. Covered in gashes and bruises and bleeding from just about every outlet on his head from the reckless flight he proceeded on foot. Ned Kelly would later joke that McIntyre was cowardly for his escape. As darkness descended upon the Wombat Ranges and storm clouds unfurled, McIntyre sought temporary refuge in a wombat hole where he wrote furiously in his notebook and would stay for part of the night aching from his injuries.
Meanwhile at the police camp, Ned was chasing Kennedy on foot in the same direction McIntyre had fled. Armed with the shotgun, Ned tried to take Kennedy down, but the sergeant was full of fight. Ducking behind trees for cover, Kennedy fired at Ned with his Webley, one shot passing through his opponent’s beard, another passing through his sleeve close to his ribs. A blast from Ned hit Kennedy in the right arm, and blood began pouring down his sleeve. Kennedy’s fingers lost strength and he could no longer hold his revolver. It fell with a quiet thud in the scrub. The pain from the shot was almost paralysing as he staggered on short of breath. He could hear Ned’s footsteps growing closer. Was he still running? Was he bothering to take cover? Kennedy turned to see where his pursuer was and a blast from Ned Kelly struck Kennedy under the arm. Kennedy hit the ground hard. As Ned approached he found the Webley, the grip slick with blood. Wordlessly he realised what he had done. He would later recount that moment in the Jerilderie letter:
I fired again with the gun as he slewed around to surrender, I did not know he had dropped his revolver. The bullet passed through the right side of his chest and he could not live or I would have let him go. Had they been my own brothers I could not help shooting them or else let them shoot me, which they would have done had their bullets been directed as they intended them.
Back at the camp the others inspected the body of Scanlan, Joe taking the ring from Scanlan’s lifeless hand. Was this symbolic? Was this a trophy? Or was it just a matter of stealing jewellery he liked the look of? Dan and Steve seemed not to have had any real interest in raiding corpses. Their accounts of the day were never to be recorded.
What occurred between Ned and the dying sergeant is subject of much speculation. It would be reasonable to imagine with the little life he had left Kennedy spoke to Ned of his family and his fears about what might happen to them. It seems that, at least in some accounts, Kennedy had enough time and strength to write a letter to his wife and entrust Ned with taking the letter to his wife with his watch. Perhaps such a moment may have provided Ned with enough time to resolve and prepare to finish him off. Ned placed the muzzle of his weapon to Kennedy’s chest and fired. Satisfied that Kennedy was out of his misery he trudged the half mile back to the camp and fetched one of the police cloaks, which he took back and draped over the corpse.
As night enveloped the forest, McIntyre tried to navigate through the wilds using the stars and a compass. In crossing a stream his boots had become waterlogged and he was forced to remove them for the remainder of the journey. The next day he was delirious from exhaustion and injury to the point of hallucination and sought refuge in a hut for a time before continuing on to Mansfield.
At the police camp the gang finished raiding the tents and corpses and set fire to all they could not carry before leaving. Clearly Ned Kelly considered the outcome to have been justified by the apparently murderous intentions of the police. Convinced right to his dying day that the police had not meant to apprehend the brothers but to put them down like rabid wolves he would remonstrate:
It would not be wilful murder if they packed our remains in, shattered into a mass of animated gore, to Mansfield. They would have got great praise and credit as well as promotion, but I’m reckoned a horrid brute because I had not been cowardly enough to lie down for them under such trying circumstances and insults to my people. Certainly their wives and children are to be pitied, but they must remember those men came into the bush with the intention of scattering pieces of me and my brother all over the bush and yet they know and acknowledge I have been wronged and my mother and four or five men lagged innocent.
McIntyre would return with a party led by Sub-Inspector Pewtress to reclaim the corpses of Lonigan and Scanlan. Kennedy’s heavily decomposed remains would not be found until five days after the massacre. The widows of Lonigan and Kennedy would be given a pension but it was hardly compensation for losing their husbands and the fathers of their children. The three men are buried in Mansfield cemetery, a quiet spot comfortably away from the main thoroughfares of the town. In 1880 a monument was unveiled to the memory of the policemen. In the unveiling of the monument Captain Standish, chief commissioner of police, remarked:
…in the Police department there was not a better or truer, or more trust-worthy and energetic member of the force than Sergeant Kennedy ; and it was with sincere sorrow that he received the announcement of his sad and untimely fate. It was well known that in his encounter with the outlaws he behaved most gallantly, and fought to the bitter end against overpowering odds. Constables Scanlan and Lonigan were also good and deserving men ; and the brutal and revolting manner in which they were shot down naturally sent a thrill of terror through the whole community. It was therefore the more surprising that the perpetrators of the fearful crime had met with so much strange sympathy and material assistance from many persons of that district. It must of course be satisfactory to fellow colonists to know that the legislature had made substantial provision for the widows and orphans of these brave fellows who lost their lives in the discharge of their duty. He sincerely hoped that the mellowing hand of time would soothe the great affliction which had befallen Mrs. Kennedy and Mrs. Lonigan. (Hear, hear.) He could not omit gratefully to acknowledge the warm-hearted sympathy of the New South Wales police in subscribing so liberally to the memorial inaugurated that day. It was a proof, if need be, of the cordial feeling which, he trusted, would always exist between the police of the two colonies. Once more he desired to convey to the residents of the Mansfield district his earnest appreciation of their generosity and sympathy.
One of the most infamous events in bushranging history is the so-called “Stringybark Creek Massacre” wherein the Kelly gang (Ned Kelly, Dan Kelly, Joe Byrne and Steve Hart) ambushed police that were looking for them and killed three of the four officers. The only first-hand accounts we have are from Ned Kelly and Constable Thomas McIntyre who tell the story from opposite sides for obvious reasons. Here we can examine each perspective and compare the accounts against each other to see what matches and what is different in an effort to hove closer to the truth.
Ambush
Kelly: On the 25 October I came on Police tracks between Tabletop and the bogs. I crossed them and returning in the evening I came on a different lot of tracks making for the Shingle Hut. I went to our camp and told my brother and his two mates, and my brother went and found their camp at the shingle hut about a mile from my brother’s house, saw they carried long firearms and we knew our doom was sealed if we could not beat those before the others would come, as I knew the other party of Police would soon join them and if they came on us at our camp they would shoot us down like dogs at our work. As we had only two guns we thought it best to try and bail those up, take their firearms and ammunition and horses and we could stand a chance with the rest.
McIntyre: Taking some lunch with them Kennedy and Scanlan then left, going down the creek or nearly due north. The last words that Kennedy said to me were “Mac, don’t be uneasy if we are not home tonight”…having cut a large sheet of bark off a white gum tree, out of which I improvised a table and a baking board I proceeded to bake some bread. Lonigan looked after the three horses, and grass being scarce they were inclined to stray, so that he was kept fairly busy. During the time he was not looking after the horses he was reading the “Vagabond Papers”. About noon I was busy with my baking operations when, Lonigan who was lying down reading, told me that he heard a strange noise down the creek. I had not heard the noise myself, but considering that it might be a kangaroo or a wombat that he had heard I took the shotgun and went down the creek to see… I killed a couple of parrots and cooked them for our dinner. I have been much criticised for this shooting, but I thought the Kellys were not within a dozen miles of us, and I had the sanction of the Sergeant to fire the rifle the evening before. Lonigan who had not previous to this carried his revolver, buckled it on, at the same time remarking that as he had to go a considerable distance for the horses he thought it would be wise to take it with him. He evidently placed more importance upon the noise than I did. I was convinced that it was made by a kangaroo or wombat. Now I think differently.
Constable Thomas Newman McIntyre (Source: Victoria Police Museum)
Kelly: We approached the spring as close as we could get to the camp. As the intervening place being clear ground and no battery, we saw two men at the logs. They got up and one took a double-barreled fowling piece and fetched a horse down and hobbled him at the tent and we thought there were more men in the tent asleep (those being on sentry). We could have shot those two men without speaking, but not wishing to take their lives we waited.
McIntyre: About 5 o’clock I asked Lonigan to assist me in making a large fire to guide the men home should they not arrive until after sundown. We built a fire at the intersection of the two logs… After we had completed the fire Lonigan remained upon the north side of the logs and I proceeded to boil the billy to make the tea. I was standing with my face to the fire and my back to the rushes looking down the creek for the men whose approach I expected. Lonigan was standing on the opposite side of the fire into which he was gazing intently, he had been strangely silent all day, if he lifted his head he must have seen four men who were approaching us from behind the rushes before they challenged us, but he did not do so. Suddenly and without warning I heard some voices crying out “Bail up, hold up your hands”. My first impression was that it was Kennedy and Scanlon who, coming from an unexpected quarter, were jesting; on turning quickly round I saw four men standing in the rushes, each of them armed with a gun which they held at their shoulders presented in our direction. I noticed particularly the man upon the right of the attacking party and I knew it was Ned Kelly as soon as I looked at him.
Death of Lonigan
Kelly: McIntyre laid the gun against a stump and Lonigan sat on the log. I advanced, my brother Dan keeping McIntyre covered (which he took to be Constable Flood) and had he not obeyed my orders or attempted to reach for the gun or draw his revolver he would have been shot dead, but when I called on them to throw up their hands McIntyre obeyed and Lonigan ran some six or seven yards to a battery of logs instead of dropping behind the one he was sitting on. He had just got to the logs and put his head up to take aim when I shot him that instant or he would have shot me, as I took him to be Strachan the man who said he would not ask me to stand he would shoot me first like a dog. He is the man that blowed before he left Violet Town if Ned Kelly was to be shot he was the man that would shoot him and no doubt he would shoot me even if I threw up my arms and laid down as he knew four of them could not arrest me singlehanded, not to talk of the rest of my mates, also either him or me would have to die. This he knew well, therefore he had a right to keep out of my road.
McIntyre: Seeing that he had me fairly and deadly covered, without the slightest tremor in the rifle, I wanted that rifle lowered before I attempted to get my firearms and accordingly threw out my arms horizontally. Immediately I did so Ned Kelly shifted the muzzle of his gun to the right and without taking it from his shoulder shot at Lonigan who had started to run partly towards and partly down the creek putting his hand down as if to get his revolver, he had no time to open the case and must have been looking over his right shoulder when he was shot in the right eye by Ned Kelly.
Kelly: As soon as I shot Lonigan he jumped up and staggered some distance from the logs with his hands raised and then fell. He surrendered but too late. I asked McIntyre who was in the tent he replied “no one”.
McIntyre: I took a hasty glance around when Kelly fired and saw Lonigan fall heavily he said “Oh! Christ I am shot”, made several plunges, breathing stentorously, after which he remained quiet. The whole affair occurred so quickly that Lonigan did not run more than four or five paces before he was shot; had he stooped down he would have been under cover of the logs when no doubt I would have been shot as a preliminary to their shooting him.
The Gang Raid the Camp
McIntyre: After shooting Lonigan the four men rushed over to me, Ned Kelly with a revolver in his right hand and carrying his rifle in the other. As I had lowered my hands when the shot was fired, they cried out loudly “keep up your hands; keep up your hands”. I was jammed in a corner having a log on either hand and a fire at my back, both my revolver and the shotgun were at the tent about twenty four yards distant on my right and about the same distance from some of the attacking party.
I had only time to ejaculate “Oh God, my time has come”, when the four of them reached me and presenting their firearms at my chest within a distance of three feet Kelly demanded to know if I had any firearms. I said “I have not”, he asked where was my revolver, I replied “at the tent”. On hearing this Dan Kelly, whom I easily recognised by the family likeness especially about the eyes, suddenly whisked round and presenting his gun at the tent called out “come out here you bloody bastards”. I told him there was nobody there. Ned Kelly asked me where my mates were, I replied “they are out”.
Kelly: I asked McIntyre where his mates was, he said they had gone down the creek and he did not expect them that night. He asked me was I going to shoot him and his mates. I told him “No, I would shoot no man if he gave up his arms and leave the force”. He said the Police all knew Fitzpatrick had wronged us and he intended to leave the force as he had bad health and his life was insured.
McIntyre: He asked my name and station, I told him and having in view the fate of the four men in New South Wales [referring to the special constables murdered by Thomas Clarke in the 1860s], I also told him my life was insured, I was unmarried at the time and had not a single relative in Australia, and my being insured was unknown to my people at home. I told him this under the impression that he would mention the matter at some future time, when he was brought to justice and thus assist my relatives in getting the insurance money.
Kelly: He told me he intended going home and that Kennedy & Scanlan were out looking for our camp, and also about the other Police he told me the N.S.W Police had shot a man for shooting Sergeant Walling. I told him if they did they had shot the wrong man and I expect your gang came to do the same with me. He said no they did not come to shoot me, they came to apprehend me. I asked him what they carried Spencer rifles and breech loading fowling pieces and so much ammunition for, as the Police was only supposed to carry one revolver and six cartridges in the revolver, but they had eighteen rounds of revolver cartridges each, three dozen for the fowling piece, and twenty one Spencer rifle cartridges and God knows how many they had away with the rifle. This looked as if they meant not only to shoot me only to riddle me, but I don’t know either Kennedy, Scanlan or him and had nothing against them.
McIntyre: When he said “What became of the Sydney man”, I knew he referred to the murder of Sergeant Wallings of the New South Wales Police. […] The ofender was a man named Gibson alias Wilson who in ’72 escaped from Parramatta gaol where he was serving a sentence for cattle stealing. In reply to Kelly’s question, I said, “The Police had shot him”. He said “Well if the Police shot him they shot the wrong man and I suppose some of you fellows will shoot me some day, but I will make some of you suffer first, for you know I am no coward. That Fellow Fitzpatrick is the cause of all this, for those people lagged in Beechworth the other day no more had revolvers in their hands than you have now, in fact they were not there at all these are the men who were there”, nodding towards his mates.
McIntyre: Ned Kelly and the two strangers were cool and held their weapons steadily. Dan Kelly was nervously excited and was laughing with a short laugh almost hysterical; there was something grotesque about his appearance; all his clothing including his hat was much too large for him and when he turned his back to me to cover the tent there was very little of the inhabitant of the clothing visible.
Ned Kelly told his mates to keep me covered and me to hold my hands above my head which I had not hitherto done. He searched me very carefully round the body, down the legs and even examined my boots to see if I had a weapon concealed. He then jumped over a log and going to where Lonigan lay, whose struggles in the death agony had ceased, he took possession of Lonigan’s revolver. On his return to where we were he said “Dear a dear! What a pity, what made the fellow run?” He then proceeded to the tents and securing the firearms there he told his mates to let me go. Judging by the expression made use of by Kelly when he returned from the body of Lonigan it is possible he may not have contemplated murder in the first instance relying upon taking us separately and unprepared but there could be no doubt that after shooting Lonigan he intended to shoot the whole party, for clearly their safety demanded our destruction.
Kelly: He said he would get them to give up their arms if I would not shoot them as I could not blame them, they had to do their duty. I said I did not blame them for doing honest duty but I could not suffer them blowing me to pieces in my own native land, and they knew Fitzpatrick wronged us and why not make it public and convict him? But, no, they would rather riddle poor unfortunate creoles, but they will rue the day ever Fitzpatrick got among them. Our two mates came over when the heard the shots fired but went back again for fear the Police might come to our camp while we were all away and manure Bullock Flat with us.
McIntyre: Handcuffing was an indignity I was not inclined to submit to, and I did not raise my hands but appealed to Ned Kelly by saying “What is the use of putting these things on me, how can I get away and you all armed as you are?” He said “All right, don’t put them on him, this (tapping the butt of his rifle) is better than handcuffs”. To me he said “but mind you don’t try to get away or we will shoot you if we have to follow you to the police station to do so”. Dan Kelly accepted this order from his brother very sullenly, and in language more forcible than elegant he stated that he would soon find the handcuffs upon himself if our positions were reversed. From that moment I knew who was most likely to be my executioner when the time came. Byrne brought up our billy of tea and filling out some into a pannickin [sic] he handed me a drink. I thought he did it from a kindly motive but Kelly put a different construction upon his act by asking me if there was any poison about the place.
During the time Kelly’s associates were eating, Kelly was busy loading his own rifle and extracting the shot from the cartridges which we had for the sporting gun he replaced it with bullets of which he seemed to have a plentiful supply. […] He gave our gun loaded in both barrels to Byrne and took Byrne’s himself. Kelly thus had two guns one of which he told me was to shoot me if I did not obey him. Byrne had our gun loaded with bullets. Hart had also a double barrelled gun and Dan Kelly a single barrelled one.
Kelly: I advanced and took possession of their two revolvers and fowling piece, which I
loaded with bullets instead of shot.
Confusion over Lonigan’s Identity
McIntyre: Kelly asked me “Who is that over there?” nodding towards the body. I said “Lonigan”. He said “It is not Lonigan, I know Lonigan well, Iand I will put a hole in you if you don’t tell me the truth”. During the time they had me a prisoner Kelly threatened not less than a dozen times to shoot me and several times pointed his rifle at me apparently for that purpose. […] Kelly then joined the others in feasting upon our cooked ham and the fresh bread which I had made. I feel pleased, now, that they all expressed so much approval of my bread that I believe I could have got a testimonial from them as a first class baker.
[…] A favourite expression of his was: – “I will let them see what one native can do”.
[…] I said to him, “What are you going to do with me, Are you going to shoot me?” He replied “No! I could have shot you half an hour ago when you were sitting upon that log if I had wanted to do it. At first I thought you were Flood and if you had been I would have roasted you upon that fire. There are four men in the police and if I ever lay hands upon them I will roast them alive; they are Flood, Steele, Strachan and Fitzpatrick.”
Kelly: I took him to be Strachan the man who said he would not ask me to stand he would shoot me first like a dog, but it happened to be Lonigan the man who in company with Sergeant Whelan, Fitzpatrick, and King the bootmaker, and Constable O’Day that tried to put a pair of handcuffs on me in Benalla but could not, and had to allow McInnes
the Miller to put them on, previous to Fitzpatrick swearing he was shot. I was fined two pounds for not allowing five curs like Sergeant Whelan, O’Day, Fitzpatrick, King, and Lonigan and would have sent me to “Kingdom come” only I was not ready, and he is the man that blowed before he left Violet Town if Ned Kelly was to be shot he was the man that would shoot him, and no doubt he would shoot me even if I threw up my arms and laid down as he knew four of them could not arrest me single handed, not to talk of the rest of my mates. Also, either him or me would have to die – this he knew well, therefore he had a right to keep out of my road. Fitzpatrick is the only one I hit out of the five in Benalla, this shows my feelings towards him as he said we were good friends and even swore it, but he was the biggest enemy I had in the country with the exception of Lonigan and he can be thankful I was not there when he took a revolver and threatened to shoot my mother in her own house.
Kelly: […] When I heard I was outlawed and a hundred pounds reward for me for shooting at a trooper in Victoria and a hundred pound reward for any man that could
prove a conviction of horsestealing against me so I came back to Victoria, [and] knew I would get no justice if I gave myself up. I enquired after my brother Dan and found him digging on Bullock Creek heard how the Police used to be blowing that they would not ask me to stand they would shoot me first and then cry surrender, and how they used to rush into the house upset all the milk dishes, break tins of eggs, empty the flour out of the bags on to the ground and even the meat out of the cask, and destroy all the provisions and shove the girls in front of them into the rooms like dogs so as if anyone was there they would shoot the girls first, but they knew well I was not there or I would have scattered their blood and brains like rain. I would manure the Eleven Mile with their bloated carcasses and yet remember there is not one drop of murderous blood in my veins.
Kennedy and Scanlan Return
McIntyre: They were all inside the tent and I standing outside looking down the creek. Lonigan’s body was visible from where I stood and I tried to keep myself form looking at it, lest it should unnerve me, but my eyes wandered back in spite of myself.
[…] Kelly was in one angle formed by the logs, on the creek side, and I was in the angle other, on the tent side. […] He then inquired about the men on patrol. I told him that I did not expect them home that night, but, I said “What are you going to do with them, because if you are going to shoot them down in cold blood I would rather be shot myself a thousand times than tell you anything about them.” He replied “Well of course I like to see a brave man and you can depend upon me not shooting them but you must get them to surrender, I don’t want their lives I only want their horses and firearms.”
Kelly: I could have shot them without speaking but their lives was no good to me.
McIntyre: Just then we heard the noise of approaching horses and Kelly sang out, “Hist! Lads, here they come.” I said to him, “For God’s sake don’t shoot the men and I will try to get them to surrender.” He said “All right but mind you do so, go and sit upon that log and give no alarm, or I will put a hole in you.” At the same time he covered me with one of the rifles.
Kelly: On our arrival I stopped at the logs and Dan went back to the spring for the troopers would come in that way but I soon heard them coming up the creek I told McIntyre to tell them to give up their arms.
McIntyre: I went to the place he indicated about ten yards off and had barely time to sit down when the two men came in sight. Kennedy was in advance about two horses length and Scanlan was carrying the rifle. I stepped towards Kennedy and was about to explain the position to him, when Kelly sang out “Bail up, hold up your hands.” Kennedy smiled and playfully put his hand upon his revolver case. Judging from the expression on his face he thought that Lonigan and I were jesting with him. Immediately he put his hand down he was fired at by Ned Kelly, but as I was in a direct line between him and Kennedy, who was on higher ground, Kelly had to shoot over my head and in doing so fired too high to hit him. I said to Kennedy, “Oh Sergeant, I think you had better surrender for we are surronded.” His face immediately assumed a serious look. I turned round to look at Kelly, who was in the act of changing his rifle, and his mates just now broke cover and advanced. I again looked at Kennedy and saw him throw himself on his face on the horse’s neck and roll from his horse on the off side, just at this moment there were some shots fired by the advancing bushrangers.
Kelly: He spoke to Kennedy who was some distance in front of Scanlan. He reached for his revolver and jumped off on the off side of his horse and got behind a tree when I called on them to surrender, throw up their arms, and Scanlan (who carried the rifle) slewed his horse around to gallop away but the horse would not go, and as quick as thought fired at me with the rifle without unslinging it and was in the act of firing again when I had to shoot him and he fell from his horse. McIntyre jumped on Kennedy’s horse and I allowed him to go as I did not like to shoot him after he surrendered or I would have shot him as he was between me and Kennedy, therefore I could not shoot Kennedy without shooting him first.
McIntyre: Scanlan who had not lessened the distance between himself and Kennedy was in the act of dismounting when he heard the challenge to bail up, and saw Kennedy fired at. He had already removed his right leg from the off side of his horse when he looked around, and from the expression on his face I believe he fully realised the position he was in, and further that he saw the body of Lonigan he let go his hands before he had reached the ground to seize his rifle, which was strapped over his shoulder; in doing so he fell, and in his efforts to scramble onto his feet and at the same time disentangle himself from his rifle he fell again and both his hands an knees were upon the ground when he was shot under the right arm. I saw a large spot of blood appear on his coat, which was of a light grey colour, simultaneously with hearing a shot fired by Ned Kelly.
[…] Probably owing to Kennedy having dismounted on the off side, his horse, which had been frightened by the firing, plunged over in my direction, I caught him by the rein, and as I did so, he swung round , thus placing my back towards Kennedy and had I not restrained him he would have bolted down the creek as Scanlan’s had done.
Kelly: Kennedy kept firing from behind a tree. My brother Dan advanced and Kennedy ran. I followed him, he stopped behind another tree and fired again. I shot him in the armpit and he dropped his revolver and ran. I fired again with the gun as he slewed around to surrender. I did not know he had dropped his revolver. The bullet passed through the right side of his chest and he could not live or I would have let him go. Had they been my own brothers I could not help shooting them or else let them shoot me, which they would have done had their bullets been directed as they intended them. But as for handcuffing Kennedy to a tree or cutting his ear off or brutally treating any of them is a falsehood. If Kennedy’s ear was cut off it was not done by me and none of my mates was near him after he was shot. I put his Cloak over him and left him as well as I could and were they my own brothers I could not have been more sorry for them. This cannot be called wilful murder for I was compelled to shoot them or lie down and let them shoot me.
McIntyre: I did not know that Kennedy was not already shot, and I believe he received his first wound at this time, which caused him to drop his revolver. I rode down the creek for about half a mile when I turned the horse’s head towards the setting sun, which direction would take me to the Benalla road.
[…] The forest was so thick hat it was impossible to guide the horse, I therefore gave him his head… Throwing myself to the right or the left, to avoid branches as well as I could, I did not succeed in escaping many bruises and scratches which were little thought of at the time, but some of which have left their scars to the present day.
Kelly: It would not be wilful murder if they packed our remains in, shattered into a mass of animated gore, to Mansfield. They would have got great praise and credit as well as promotion, but I’m reckoned a horrid brute because I had not been cowardly enough to lie down for them under such trying circumstances and insults to my people. Certainly their wives and children are to be pitied, but they must remember those men came into the bush with the intention of scattering pieces of me and my brother all over the bush and yet they know and acknowledge I have been wronged and my mother and four or five men lagged innocent. And is my brothers and sisters and my mother not to be pitied also? Who was has no alternative only to put up with the brutal and cowardly conduct of a parcel of big, ugly, fat-necked, wombat-headed, big-bellied, magpie-legged, narrow-hipped, splaw-footed sons of Irish bailiffs or English landlords, which is better known as Officers of Justice or Victorian Police – who some calls honest gentlemen, but I would like to know what business an honest man would have in the Police, as it is an old saying “It takes a rogue to catch a rogue”, and a man that knows nothing about roguery would never enter the force and take an oath to arrest brother sister father or mother if required and to have a case and conviction if possible.
