True History of the Kelly Gang Page 4

  50 yd. down the creek has a dogleg where the proddies swim in summer. The pair of us was driven close to the bank against an old river red gum submerged in flood. It were slippery as a pig but I were able to gain sufficient purchase to drag his drenched and soapy body back from that other world where he had imagined himself consigned.

  Though the little chap were 1/2 drowned I got him upon my back he were crying and vomiting and agitating a great deal. He wore boots but my own feet was bare as usual I set off straight through the bush towards the Royal Mail Hotel where I knew his father were the licensee. It were a sharp and rocky bit of ground I chose.

  The yardman at the Mail were a failed selector named Shaky White he were burying night soil in the scrub when he seen us coming and he started hollering Missus Missus Jesus Christ.

  An upstairs window in the pub flew open a woman screamed a moment later Mrs Shelton were running down the yard towards her son but even in her great emotion she never ignored the Catholic boy and I were taken into her hotel and given a hot bath in a large white tub. I had never seen a bathtub until that day it were a blessed miracle to lay in that long smooth porcelain with all the steaming water brought to me by Shaky in 10 buckets I never saw so much water used to wash.

  Then Mrs Shelton brought her older son’s clothes to wear while mine was laundered they was soft and had a very pleasant smell. I would of given anything to keep them but Mrs Shelton didnt think of making that offer instead she put her plump arm around my shoulder and led me downstairs saying I were an angel sent by God.

  In the dining room I discovered a merry fire and a man in a 3 pce. suit doing great damage to a plate of eggs and bacon but apart from him the room were empty. Mrs Shelton sat me at a table near the fire it were set with shining silver knives & forks & cruets & salt & pepper & a sugar bowl with a curved spoon. I knew my mother would have liked it very much.

  Mrs Shelton asked would I prefer cocoa I said yes she asked would I like a breakfast and presented me with a menu. I never seen such a thing before but soon I got the gist of it and used it well. I had begun the day with bread and dripping now I was ordering lamb chops and bacon and kidney it were very tasty. There were carpet on the floor I can see the pattern of the red roses to this day. Mrs Shelton wore a bright yellow dress and a gold bangle on her wrist she wept and smiled and stared at me all the time I ate she said I were the best and bravest boy in the whole world.

  Mr Shelton had been in Seymour overnight but soon arrived in his wagon and rushed into the dining room in his muddy gumboots and oilskin coat. He tried to give me 1/2 a crown but I wouldnt hear of such a thing.

  Mr Shelton were tall and broad with long side whiskers and his thin straight mouth would of looked mean were his eyes not so bright and brimming.

  Is there nothing you wish for boy?

  Nothing.

  It were not true I would have liked a dress for my mother but I didnt know how much one would cost.

  Very well said he then let me shake your hand.

  I took his hand but confess that I were not nearly so noble as my speech suggested. I walked to school in my nice borrowed clothes and a pair of shining pinching boots I were so disappointed I were sick at heart. The following morning a buckboard drew up at the schoolhouse Mr Irving were always fearful of inspectors he got suddenly nervous as a quail.

  Wipe clean your slates he commanded while trying to make some order of his pigpen desk. He were fast with multiplication but very queer and jerky in this crisis and now it didnt help him that his head were big for he couldnt reckon where to hide his fret saw.

  To Caroline Doxcy he said Go to the window see if it is a gentleman with a case. Smartly smartly Caroline.

  He has a parcel.

  Yes but does he have a satchel?

  Oh Sir it is only Dicky Shelton’s father.

  Mr Irving were a king amongst children and didnt like visitors to his castle so he was out the door before the publican could enter. We could hear their voices clearly.

  Damn it Irving roared Mr Shelton I’ll do what I adjectival like.

  The door banged against the wall and Esau Shelton burst inside with the odour of stale hops and raisin wine they was his constant friends.

  Ah children cried he granting us a rare sight of his teeth.

  Mr Irving come following behind rubbing his big pale hands together and telling us unhappily that we must listen to Mr Shelton.

  Now look here little children said Mr Shelton and he placed his brown paper parcel amongst the litter on the teacher’s desk. My son Dick nearly drowned yesterday did you know that? No? My Dick would be in heaven now were it not for someone in this very room.

  The scholars now began to crane their necks and look enquiringly around and Annie seemed she might die folding her hands in her lap and staring ahead with glassy gaze. Jem were 7 yr. and so copied what his older sister done but my barrel chested Maggie never feared it were she who raised her hand.

  It were my big brother Ned.

  The blood rushed to my face.

  Correct said Mr Shelton v. solemn please come and stand up here Ned Kelly.

  I knew he were going to give me the brown paper parcel I had no doubt it contained the respectable clothes I always wanted. As I rose I caught the eye of Caroline Doxcy she smiled at me the 1st time ever. I put my shoulders back and walked up to Mr Irving’s platform.

  Mr Shelton bade me face the class then shut my eyes there were the crinkling of the paper the smell of camphor and the smooth feel of silk against my cheek.

  I thought thats women’s stuff it were a dress to give my mother.

  Open your eyes Ned Kelly.

  I done as ordered and saw his little slit of mouth all twisted in a grin and then Eliza Mutton and George Mutton and Caroline Doxcy and the Sheltons and Mr Irving staring at me with his wild bright eyes. I looked down at my person and seen not my bare feet my darned pullover my patched pants but a 7 ft. sash. It were peacock green embroidered with gold TO EDWARD KELLY IN GRATITUDE FOR HIS COURAGE FROM THE SHELTON FAMILY.

  At the very hour I stood before the scholars in my sash the decapitated head of the bushranger Morgan were being carried down the public highway—Benalla—Violet Town—Euroa—Avenel—perhaps it would be better had I known the true cruel nature of the world but I would not give up my ignorance even if I could. The Protestants of Avenel had seen the goodness in an Irish boy it were a mighty moment in my early life.

  If these events made a big impression on my own young mind they made an even bigger one on Esau Shelton. What phantoms haunted his top paddock I have no way of knowing but it is very clear he could not stop dwelling on how his son were nearly dead and the more time that passed the more he felt the agony. He had been previously known as a tight lipped b––––r not suited to his profession but now dear Jesus he could not be shutup and must offer endless accounts of young Dick’s rescue to every bullocky selector or shearer who come to prop up his long bar. He never considered the embarrassment his emotions might be causing others it were his own peace of mind he sought.

  Not many nights after I brung the sash home to my mother I were woken by the low growling of our kangaroo dogs and then detected the faint odours of stale hops.

  Then come a most distinctive whisper from the night Mrs Kelly Mrs Kelly might I trouble you?

  My mother replied with that hiss so particular to the mothers of young babes. What is it you want Mr Shelton?

  But what is it you want Mrs Kelly?

  My mother stayed silent but I could hear Mr Shelton scraping the mud off his boots as if he were intent on entering regardless.

  What are you thinking Mrs Kelly?

  What am I thinking? And any of her children would of recognised the dangerous rise and hook on its last word. Mr Shelton she said I’m lying here wondering who might be adjectival fool enough to wake my baby.

  Beg pardon Mrs Kelly I’ll come back tomorrow.

  I don’t want you back tomorrow Mr Shelton. She rose from her bed and kno
cked the pegs from the door and I watched through the curtain as the big smelly man shambled to the table and begun to noisily arrange his pipe and tobacco amongst our dirty dishes. He appeared pretty much a wreck as far as I could judge.

  Mother wearily pulled her possum skin around her shoulders and waited impatiently for her guest to speak he was tongue tied and required a v. loud impatient sigh to get him rolling again.

  Mrs Kelly said he at last your boy has given me back my son.

  We know that Mr Shelton just tell me what is bothering you.

  Its the sash he admitted.

  I thought please Jesus don’t talk about the sash I valued that reward more than anything I ever owned but my mother had taken a shocking set against it on account of her opinion the Sheltons should have offered money.

  The sash?

  I’m thinking.

  Go on Mr Shelton she encouraged.

  Frankly it just don’t seem sufficient.

  There were a very long silence.

  Would you like a cup of tea Mr Shelton?

  No Mrs Kelly there is nothing you can offer me.

  Some oatcake?

  I just ate.

  Would you take a brandy to settle your digestion?

  Mrs Kelly you’re a woman who lost her husband just like I nearly lost my son.

  Don’t cry Mr Shelton they aint neither of them exactly dead.

  Thats it Mrs Kelly that is what my wife has pointed out to me. I have the power to bring Mr Kelly back to you.

  Though I couldnt see my mother’s face I did see her back shiver like a cat with ringworm.

  How do you mean?

  Mr Kelly is in the lockup you’ll forgive me mentioning it.

  It is a private subject.

  I made an enquiry of Constable Doxcy.

  That aint your business Mr Shelton.

  You’ll forgive me he says it is a matter of £25.

  But my mother did not want her husband back. Oh no she cried I will not let you.

  But I must Mrs Kelly I am bound to it.

  Mr Shelton it is a lovely sash you give our Ned but if you don’t watch out you’ll spoil him. He’s a good boy but very headstrong and don’t need no encouragement to take more risks he’s lucky he didnt drown himself.

  But surely you aint saying you wish his father left in gaol?

  No cried my mother I’m saying you shouldnt make a fuss of my boy.

  But you would not object to your husband being freed?

  Dear Jesus cried my mother what sort of woman do you think I am?

  What else could she say? One week later her husband walked back into her life. We was seated round the table eating tea when he come and stood behind me. I twisted in my seat but didnt know whether to rise or what to say.

  Get out of my adjectival chair.

  I squeezed down the long bench and my father took his place he rested his freckled forearms on the table and asked my mother the baby’s name. I could not take my eyes off the arms all puffy white and sweaty like cheese wrapped up too long in summer.

  Grace as you know.

  How would I know?

  I sent Ned to tell you.

  Again my father turned his eyes on me and I felt he were looking into my heart at all the sins I committed against him and he pushed his stew away telling my mother to give him what money she had hidden. I thought she would say no but she emptied her sock and give him all she had and my father walked back out into the night. We was all very quiet after he were gone.

  You may think it strange that a man can survive transportation and the horrors of Van Diemen’s Land and then be destroyed in a country lockup but we cannot credit the tortures our parents suffered in Van Diemen’s Land—Port Macquarie—Toongabbie—Norfolk Island—Emu Plains. Avenel lockup were the final straw for your grandfather he did not speak more than a dozen words to me from that day until his death.

  Once he worked with us putting in the oats but he no longer liked the light of day and mostly remained inside the hut. By late spring the following year he were so bloated you could hardly see his eyes was lost and lonely and angry in the middle of his swollen face. We moved around him as if he were a pit too deep to fall into. Dr May come and told us he had dropsy and we paid a great deal of money for his medicine but there were no improvement and our father lay on his crib he could hardly raise his head to sip the rum.

  Mother and I now did all the ploughing we seeded 20 acres but it were too late in the season. One day at noon it were a hot December day the sky were blue and the magpies carolling my mother returned to the hut then come straight back out to fetch me.

  Come she said come now.

  We entered the hut together our bare feet caked with soil our hats already in our hands and there we saw our poor da lying dead upon the kitchen table he were bulging with all the poisons of the Empire his skin grey and shining in the gloom.

  I were 12 yr. and 3 wk. old that day and if my feet were callused one inch thick and my hands hard and my labourer’s knees cut and scabbed and stained with dirt no soap could reach yet did I not still have a heart and were this not he who give me life now all dead and ruined? Father son of my heart are you dead from me are you dead from me my father?

  PARCEL TWO

  His Life Ages 12–15

  Red-and-white-striped cloth booklet with red-and-blue-marbled boards (6½‘ × 7½‘ approx.). First page inscribed “To E.K. from your own M.H.” Comprising 42 pages completed in red ink, 8 pages in faint pencil. Dust soiling along edges. Several 1‘ to 4‘ tears without loss of text.

  An account of the family’s arrival at the district of Greta and a visit from their Uncle James with a very full description of his subsequent arrest for arson and his sentencing at the Autumn Assizes. A brief report of Ned and Jem Kelly’s life as agricultural labourers in the service of Ellen Kelly’s sisters. Mrs Kelly’s selection of land at Eleven Mile Creek is narrated with considerable enthusiasm. Also includes unflattering portraits of Anne Kelly and of various suitors of Mrs Kelly.

  NOW WERE YOUR GRANDPA’S poor wracked body finally granted everlasting title to the rich soil of Avenel and your grandma left free to reveal her passion for the Duffy Land Act once again. There were now no one to contradict her or call her a fool certainly not us children. We knew the Quinns had gotten 1,000 acres at Glenmore on the King River and that is what we wanted too even Dan who were the most distressed by our father’s death.

  In the hot summer evenings following the burial my mother gathered her brood about her. It were not Cuchulainn and Dedriu and Mebd she talked of now but the mighty farm we would all soon select together she said we would find a great mountain river and flats so rich no plough were needed we would plunge our hands into it and breathe the fertile loamy smell and be neighbours with our aunts and uncles once again and break wild horses and sell them and grow corn and wheat and raise fat sleek cattle and all the land beneath our feet would be our own to walk on from dawn to dusk ours and ours alone.

  We did not talk about our father knowing our very excitement were an insult against his memory and his soul were within each soul of ours and would be for every moment of our lives and there would never be a knot I tied or a rabbit I skun or a horse I rode that I did not see those small eyes watching to see I done it right.

  There was 60 hard crabholed miles between Avenel and my aunts Kate and Jane. The very small children rode in a borrowed cart together with our chooks in baskets & pots & pans & blankets & axes & hoes & 2 bags of seed my mother sitting up on the bench driving with baby Grace at her breast.

  We older ones had charge of the cows and the dogs it were our job to catch the pig when he escaped though we never minded on account of we was going to a farm. Doubtless my mother had the same idea but when we finally arrived at the township of Greta we discovered our uncles had been put in gaol and the aunts and all their children was living in a delicensed hotel. Once a palace of the gold rush it was abandoned now like a grand old ship beached on the wide brown plain it s
eemed the height of luxury to me.

  There was 13 bedrooms and wide hallways such as I had only previously observed in Shelton’s hotel and my cousins Tom and Jack and Jack Jr and my sister Kate run up and down and around in merry misrule.

  If my mother were disappointed she never showed it she were always singing with her sisters and riding around the country with her father and brothers deciding which land she might finally select. My aunts must of been very poor but in memory it were a time of plenty and there was duck and chook eggs and fatty mutton with potatoes. Aunt Kate were 4 ft. 10 in. and skinny as a greenhide whip she made what my father called BRUITIN and the Quinns called CHAMP it is potatoes mashed up with a great lump of butter. She had a vegetable garden and she improved the soil so well it could grow anything we pulled up onions 12 in. across it would astound you to see what the land could produce in them days.

  I had not been in Greta 2 wk. when I found an unbranded horse I broke with considerable assistance from Jimmy Quinn who did not have the T burned in his hand like old Ben Gould but he were already a famous thief and there was people in Greta said he’d sold his soul to the Devil. Be that as it may there were no better judge of an animal I ever met and never a man who could trick him with an unsound horse or a cow whose horn rings had been fixed up for sale with the clever aid of a file or burning iron.

  Jimmy were already 1/2 mad from his numerous incarcerations wild and foul mouthed and violent but always very patient and kind to me and he didnt laugh when I said I were leaving school in order to be a selector. He said a 12 yr. old boy could do very well at buying and selling horses on the side and he helped me break several more unbranded horses so by the time my 13th birthday come around I had a small breaking yard and thought myself an expert in the matter. Some horses I traded and give the proceeds to Mother to help buy our land. I were later given several sheep which I increased by breeding until the flock was 18 strong.

  When the older men in the district went off shearing at Gnawarra my brother Jem and I done the same at home me working the springback shears with Jem standing ready with the tar pot to dress their injuries. So you can see I had become a very serious boy it were my job to replace the father as it were my fault we didnt have him anymore.