Just finished reading a new book on the life of Ellen Kelly, the mother of the nefarious Ned and Dan and a woman who led a tragic and in some ways desolate life until her death at the age of 95 at home in Greta Victoria. The book is by Grantlee Kieza, a stalwart literary figure in Australia who has written many books on sport and great people and events in Australian history. It’s a good book. Accessible and highly readable for the general public although it becomes as much a re-telling of the Kelly Outbreak as anything-understandable when given that the years between 1878 and 1880 really defined and ruined Ellen Kelly’s life even though she was in prison for much of that period.
The book isn’t judgmental for the most part and tells the story of Ellen and Ned and his gang without ever glorifying the tale as has been done so many times before. There is a slight hint that Kieza is no fan of the legend but he doesn’t labour the point too much.
There is however enough in Kieza’s recounting of the outbreak to suggest that his sympathies lie with the authorities and the erstwhile officers of the Victoria Police and the defence of Constable Fitzpatrick is likely to put the still numerous Kelly supporters off-side but it is a well researched book and I have no reason to doubt Kieza’s resolution of the “Fitzpatrick incident”.
As with most of our country’s myths and legends, the image and iconery emboldened by Ned Kelly as he staggered, badly wounded out of the early morning mist and into the gun-sights of a dozen policemen outside the Glenrowan Inn dressed in his ploughshear armour, is constantly under attack by new generations of historians and others who feel that legitimizing the legend and making a hero out of a horse thief and cop-killer is something which should never be countenanced.
Ned Kelly was a very dangerous young man, there is no doubt of that but he remains an enigma. Brought up surrounded by a family of criminals after his father died he never really had much of a chance. Poverty, discrimination, self-consciousness and self-pity all played a part in the man he was to become and let pool the anger which seeped into the deepest recesses of his character. He was big and strong and tough. He hadn’t spent his whole life stealing horses. He had cut sleepers for new railway lines in the tumbledown forests of North-East Victoria. As hard a work as a man could do and he was good at it, defying his reputation as a thief and a neer’ do well. And of course he had broken rocks for three years in Pentridge prison. When his anger broke he was a wraith and God help anyone who stood in his way. A very formidable young man as his victory over local thug and standover merchant Isaiah “Wild’ Wright in a twenty round slugfest in Beechworth in 1874 would attest. It’s no wonder people, police included often walked around him.
Of course in every myth there is a kernel of truth and it is no less the case with Ned Kelly. There were times when the man lived up to the legend. He could be noble and decent and kind…and honest, courageous and loyal but his predilection to violence and his hatred of the police and the perceived injustice meted out to his family…true or no…had warped his soul. And he became a killer. And this where I take a stand which is different to many revisionist authors.
I don’t share the view that Ned was destined for the gallows from the moment he first drew breath at Beveridge north of Melbourne. The circumstances of his life shaped him and although he made some terrible choices which eventually led to his execution, I think there are a few extenuating circumstances. There is no doubt the Victoria police of the day were incompetent and corrupt. No matter what way you spin it, no matter how much you champion law and order, no matter how black and white you want to make it, the kick-backs to police officers, their support of squatters over selectors and the handling of criminal elements such as the Kelly’s and their kin left much to be desired and, rightly or wrongly led to a feeling of injustice among such clans which was never properly addressed or even considered by authorities of the day. Racism, discrimination and self-interest ruled and people like the poor farmers of the North-East fell through the cracks-and trouble followed.
Of course while many in the same situation as the Kelly’s never felt the need to strike back through stock theft, the poverty and desolation remained the same until many social problems were relieved after land reform was initiated and as a result of the Police Royal Commision of 1881-an investigation brought on by the Kelly Outbreak. Ned had some sort of a Pyrrhic victory.
The results of the Royal Commission spoke for themselves and perhaps those who champion men like Constable Ernest Flood, Constable Alexander Fitzpatrick and even Sergeant Michael Kennedy, the brave and decent officer who was killed by Ned Kelly at Stringybark creek, who despite his sterling reputation still accepted private kickbacks for arresting petty criminals, should look harder into the root cause of Ned Kelly’s rampage and ask themselves what they would do in a similar situation. Ned was a committed criminal but it didn’t have to lead to murder and the loss of so many innocent lives. By 1880 it was war as far as Ned was concerned. Kill or be killed. It would have been a strange thing for a man who had been conditioned by circumstances and driven by the rage such as which aroused Ned Kelly to run and not strike back.
It’s beyond the scope of this blog to explore the Kelly outbreak in any great detail. I implore you to have a read of Grantlee Kieza’s new book on Ellen Kelly. It’s a great read by one of our best authors but also have a crack at Ian Jones and Keith McMenomy-men who stand on the other side of the argument and make a case for Ned. Their opinion is worthwhile too.
Ned Kelly will always be viewed through a prism of personal prejudice and ideals. No opinion of him is the wrong one. It’s good to have a discussion of differing views as long as it’s civil. My Irish catholic roots and connections to North-East Victoria through relatives who knew Ned Kelly obviously colour my perspective. My Great Aunt Ethel Sumner was married to Albert Griffiths, Ned’s nephew through his sister Grace and my father, who himself as a youngster met old Jim Kelly, Ned’s brother, swears a better man never wore shoes. These fine and upstanding, law abiding citizens mourned for relatives they never knew until their dying days. Surely there is some substance to their grievances. Many of my own relatives lie in Greta cemetery with Ned, his mother, brothers and sisters. There was never a bad word said about him in our family. Such is the role of upbringing in the maintenance a legend.
Outlaw, legend, hero, villain or cold blooded killer, Ned Kelly remains a giant of Australian history. No matter what you think of him his story still resonates today and reminds us that all members of society need to be treated equally under the law and even our criminals deserve that right. To treat them any less does ourselves no credit. It’s as important today as it was in 1880.
Such is life.
“When legend becomes fact, print the legend”.
Strange Notations From a Laborious Life 