“So Mrs. Ann Jones, the supposed Kelly sympathiser, has got off. And serve her right will be the verdict of everyone, I think.”
Tag: Kate Kelly
“Early on Sunday morning I was awakened by my husband getting out of bed. He went outside, and some one, who turned out to be Ned Kelly, said, “Don’t you know me?” My husband said, “No.” “Oh! you must know me, I’m Ned Kelly;” and he laughed whilst he said it.”
“At last, however, a spirit arrived breathless haste at a sitting, and on being asked why the spirits had not come to the watchers before, said that all the good spirits had been busy for days making a net to spread over the precincts of the Melbourne gaol, in which to enmesh the spirit of Ned the atrocious when it should leave his body.”
“Kate Kelly and her brother, with Ned’s horse, &c., commenced to exhibit them selves in an old out-house up a lane in King-street, a few doors from Pitt street; Kate and Jim on horseback, the former on Ned’s grey mare, and the latter on Kate’s pony; Kate is dressed in deep black and Jim in bushranger’s attire.”
“Before Messrs. Charlton, Dean, Moses, and Carpenter, at the Water Police Court this morning, James Gregory Tompkins and James Pringle were summoned at the instance of sub inspector Anderson, for that on the 23rd day of November, on the premises at the rear of No. 128, Pitt-street, in Sydney, they did permit to be exhibited to the public a woman named Kate Kelly, and a man named James Kelly, relatives of the notorious criminal, Edward Kelly, who was recently executed in the neighbouring colony, to the great damage and common nuisance of all persons therein inhabiting and passing, to the evil example of others in the case offending, and against the peace of the Queen.”
“The exhibition of Kate Kelly and friends is exciting much indignation along respectable people on the one hand, and drawing large crowds of people of the lower order on the other. Arrangements are being made for showing the horses on which Ned Kelly and Kate Kelly distinguished themselves. A good deal of money has already been taken.”
“Speaking about the black trackers reminds me of a humorous incident which occurred during the attack on Jones’s hotel to one of these gentlemen. Constable Milne and Constable Gascoigne were standing behind a tree in front of the house keeping a steady fire directed towards it, when a black boy of O’Connor’s, standing under cover a few yards off, called out at he wanted to light his pipe, and asked the constables for a match, Milne thereupon placed a few matches in a blank cartridge, and plugging the end with a piece of paper, threw it towards the tracker. The cartridge, however, did not fall within three or four yards of the tracker, and for a moment the latter was puzzled how to reach it without exposing himself to the fire of the outlaws. At last, after glancing earnestly towards Jones’s hotel, he called out, ‘Ned you —— ; don’t shoot me till I get the matches,’ and sprang forward at the same instant as one of the outlaws sent a bullet within an inch of his head as he stooped, and which would have gone through his body if he had been standing straight. In return for this salute — as soon as the tracker got back to his shelter — he delivered the contents of his rifle into the house, with the remark, ‘Take that Mr, Kelly, and put it in your pipe.'”
“To-morrow will be the fortieth anniversary of the capture of Ned Kelly, the notorious bushranger, at Glenrowan. The accompanying pictures and narrative have been supplied to us by Mr. W. R. Wilson, of Sydney, who has a wonderful store of knowledge of the doings of the gang. At Wangaratta Mr. Wilson was a school-fellow of Ned Kelly and two of the other outlaws, and he was present at the capture of the chief ‘ranger. So much romance has been woven round the career of the Kelly gang that Mr. Wilson feels impelled to tell the true story as he knows it.”
A brief discussion on the difficulty in choosing what to keep or cut when writing a book based on fact.
An excerpt from chapter one: Loyalty concerning the outlaw Kelly brothers and their siblings.
Glenrowan 