the domiciliary visit, William Williamson and William Skillion being present, a row ensued, in the course of which the constable was knocked down by Mrs. Kelly with a shovel, and shot in the wrist by Edward while on the ground and in the hands of all the others. A consultation was held among the party as to how to dispose of their prisoner, and murder was freely discussed; but in the end mercy prevailed, and after forcing Fitzpatrick to extract the bullet from his wrist with a pocket knife, and making him promise solemnly not to divulge what had occurred, they allowed him to depart.
After riding some distance, he heard two men galloping after him helter-skelter, which he interpreted to mean a change of views on the part of some of his late assailants, and an intention to secure his silence by death. Being well mounted he succeeded in escaping, under cover of the darkness, and having arrived in safety at head-quarters, and not considering himself bound by the promise he had made to save his life, at once reported the particulars of the event.
Upon an information to that effect, Mrs. Kelly, W. Williamson and W. Skillion were subsequently arrested, but Dan made good his escape, after promising his mother that he would never suffer himself to be taken alive; and was soon after joined by his brother Edward.
Mrs. Kelly, W. Williamson, and Skillion were committed for trial to Beechworth, where they were convicted of a murderous assault on the police, and were sentenced by Sir Redmond Barry to imprisonment for terms of three, six and six years respectively, on the evidence of Constable Fitzpatrick. Furthermore, a reward of £100 was offered for the apprehension of Ned Kelly, to whom it was intimated that had he stood beside his mother in the dock, he would have received a sentence of 21 years, an item of news that certainly did not tend to increase the probability of his openly visiting the busy haunts of men.
CHAPTER VI
“Either envy, therefore, or misprision
Is guilty of this fault, and not my son”.
– Shakespeare
The story, however, of the occurrence as narrated by the opposite side, presents the scene in a very different aspect – an aspect too, that, to any observer of human nature, especially in these colonies, does not offer to the view any features bearing the stamp of utter impossibility imprinted on their surface.
The Kelly party aver, then, that Fitzpatrick, “pretty well on”, as it is termed, came across William Skillion, near Mrs. Kelly’s place, and entered into interrogative conversation with him relative to splitting upon Crown lands without a licence, and that, during the chat the constable inquired the whereabouts of Dan from Skillion, who, not scenting any danger, replied that the former was at home. The two then proceeded to the house, where Fitzpatrick arrested the younger Kelly for horse-stealing. Ned not being present at the time, not at any future time that day.
Being a sort of acquaintance of the family, the constable could not well refuse to permit Dan to get some refreshment previous to starting, and his captor followed suit as far as a liquid “revivifier” or two went.
The report continues, that while the meal was in progress, or immediately after its conclusion, Kelly asked to see the warrant for his apprehension, which he was entitled to do, and that Fitzpatrick, not having the document with him, as he afterwards admitted, became insulting and bullying, and attempted to put the “darbies” on Dan.
Maternal affection then, which in some cases would be lauded, and described as one of the holiest and best instincts implanted in the human breast, urged the mother to the defence of her son, who, guilty or not guilty, as it appeared to her was about to be illegally arrested, so, seizing an old shovel from the fireplace, she applied it to the constable’s helmet, or cap, with a power that was at least equal to the force of her arm, added to the weight of the shovel, multiplied by the velocity of that improvised weapon as it fell. Fitzpatrick, as may be anticipated, came to the ground confused from the joint affects of the “licker” and the “lick”, and while striving to recover the perpendicular, he drew his revolver, in the clumsy handling of which, in the midst of general scrimmage, a chamber was accidentally discharged, the ball from which wounded him slightly in the wrist.
Mrs. Kelly, Dan, and the rest of the company then rejected him and saw no more of him that night.
In some quarters it was asserted that the constable did not go to Kellys’ with any intention of arresting Dan, but simply to make a call, and that, being resisted in attempting forcibly to take undue and unwelcome liberties with a member of the family, he sought revenge by attempting to capture the brother, producing his handcuffs to show his authority, and so forth. The rest of the story as before. The latter report, as the newspaper would say, required confirmation, though it agrees with a statement made subsequently by Edward Kelly at Jerilderie.
Be the truth as it may, the affair is admitted by those who ought to know, to be to a great extent involved in mystery, and the general opinion is, in any case, that the constable did not altogether act “the clean potato”. If it were the fact – but we are far from saying that it was so – that he was guilty of any wilful misfeasance of falsehood whereby the parties concerned might have been wrongly convicted, we would not envy him his feelings when he reflected (as under these hypothetical circumstances he would be bound to do) on the trebly murderous result of his action, so say nothing of the years of misery and degradation entailed on persons innocent of the charge brought against them, merely to screen himself from merited punishment, or mayhap, only reprimand.
Of course, as law-fearing, law-abiding and law-supporting subjects, we are supposed to believe that, even if the constable did, under exceptional circumstances, slightly overstep the regulated bounds of duty or veracity, yet he is to be almost excused on the universally adopted, though not generally acknowledged, principle that the end justifies the means.
Constable Fitzpatrick
CHAPTER VII
“He was a pal o’mine,
My dear boy –”
– Modern Song
Edward Kelly was at one time charged with being an accomplice and mate of the notorious Harry Power, who for so many years, though ill and long past middle age, bid defiance, single handed, to the police in the North-Eastern District, but for reasons which it would be a breach of confidence to both sides to reveal, sufficient evidence was brought forward to ensure his conviction.
Power, in conversation with “the Vagabond”, at Pentridge, stigmatized Edward Kelly as cowardly and bloodthirsty, and said that he was afraid to perform the simple act of holding his (Power’s) horse outside the Seymour bank, as he proposed, while he went in and robbed it. He also stated that he once prevented Kelly from shooting a harmless traveller, on the road between Benalla and Mansfield, out of mere devilment.
But it must be remembered, in receiving and weighing these accusations, that Power was under the impression that he was “sold” by, and owed his capture to, Kelly, though a greater mistake never was made, for the man who pocketed the price of Power’s wretched carcase lived but a short time to enjoy the reward of an approving conscience, backed up by the comparatively trifling but somewhat comforting accompaniment of a few hundred pounds sterling, Government money.
There is every reason to believe – in fact, we know – that Ned Kelly was for some time associated with Power in his predatory excursions, though the fellowship could not have proved a very remunerative one, for it is calculated that, while trading alone, the elder partner of the firm did not average £1 per week, clear.
