Some have not only distorted the facts of the Stringy Bark Creek
massacre, but also portrayed the murderers as virtual innocents, according
to Allan L Peters. Here, he presents
what he says are the truths so many historians have chosen to ignore.
Wanted for some months, brothers Edward (Ned) and Daniel Kelly had,
with help from relatives and sympathizers, and, possibly, threats
of violence, managed to evade capture. Two parties of Victorian police
were dispatched to try to find and arrest the pair in October, 1878.
Sergeant Steele led one party of five and set out for the Wombat
Ranges, from the township of Greta. Sergeant Kennedy led the other
party of Constables Scanlan, Lonigan, and McIntyre. Armed with revolvers,
a Spencer rifle, and a double-barrel shotgun, they left the town of
Mansfield on October 25. They, too, headed for the Wombat Ranges,
where the Kellys had reportedly been seen.
The departure and purpose of Kennedy’s party was kept secret from
the public. However, some later suspected that word of the officers’
mission had somehow been leaked to the fugitives.
The party covered about 20 miles on the day it left Mansfield, and
set up camp on the bank of the Stringy Bark Creek in the evening.
Kennedy and Scanlan
knew the area intimately and so took no special precautions at their
campsite that night. As well, they believed the Kellys to be still
some distance away.
Kennedy and Scanlan set out on horseback to scout the area early
the next morning. Lonigan and McIntyre stayed behind to tend the remaining
horses, cook the evening meal, and tidy and secure the camp.
At about 5pm, the two constables were surprised to hear a bellowed
command for them to throw up their hands. They turned to see four
armed men, partially concealed among trees, with guns trained on them.
McIntyre, who had been cooking over a campfire, was without a weapon
and complied with the order. Lonigan, however, was sitting on a log,
behind which he dived for cover as he reached for his revolver. But,
as he raised his head above the log and took aim, one of the intruders
fired a shot. It struck Lonigan in the head and killed him almost
instantly.
The intruders, who then charged into the campsite, were indeed the
Kellys, and two of their bloodthirsty sympathizers, Joe Byrne and
Steve Hart. They searched the unarmed McIntyre for weapons and began
to question him.
McIntyre begged the gang to allow him the chance to talk his two
colleagues into surrender upon their return.
Soon, in the distance, came the sound of approaching horses. The
four armed bushrangers hid behind logs and trees, as McIntyre went
forward to speak to Kennedy. He told him he and Scanlan were surrounded
and said they should give themselves up. Kennedy thought it a joke.
Scanlan, however, seemed to have sized up the situation almost instantly
and threw himself from his saddle as he unslung the Spencer rifle
he carried. But he had taken barely two steps toward the cover of
some trees when a volley of shots cut him down.
Meanwhile, Kennedy, who had dismounted on the offside of his horse
and rested his revolver on his saddle, began to return fire. Only
his horse served to shield him from the gang’s flying bullets.
Somehow, Kennedy lost hold of the reins. His horse left him exposed
as it moved toward McIntyre who, seeing an opportunity, leapt onto
the horse and dug in his spurs. As the horse reared up and took off,
McIntyre’s foot slipped from the stirrup. To hold his balance, the
constable had to lie low and forward over the animal’s neck.
The sight of McIntyre lying over the horse’s neck seemed to lead
the bushrangers to believe they had killed him. They cried out in
jubilation as the horse disappeared into the scrub with its rider,
and did not pursue them any farther.
Kennedy had continued to fire bravely at his attackers as he backed
slowly away. Just as he was about to fire yet another round, he suddenly
took a bone-shattering bullet to his arm. His revolver slipped from
his now useless hand as blood poured from his coat sleeve.
Fallen to the ground with his back to a tree, Kennedy sat facing
the killers. They sat themselves in front of Kennedy, before they
began to taunt and threaten him with death.
Dan Kelly several times put the muzzle of his revolver to Kennedy’s
chest and threatened to pull the trigger. Kennedy, with sheer contempt,
pushed it aside. As the other three cold-bloodedly discussed what
they would to do with the sergeant, Dan Kelly once again placed the
muzzle of his weapon to Kennedy’s chest. This time, he calmly squeezed
the trigger. Sergeant Kennedy died instantly.
Before the gang left the blood-soaked scene of wanton murder, Ned
Kelly, insisted that each of its members fire bullets into the bodies
of the dead policemen. This would fully implicate each of them in
the crimes.
For this, and other similar evil deeds, Ned Kelly and his murderous
band of thugs would later be elevated to the status of “folk heroes”.
Meanwhile, McIntyre continued to ride until his mount could go no
farther. As he still believed the gang to be in pursuit of him, he
carried on toward Mansfield throughout the night - on foot.
For years after the Stingy Bark Creek horror on Saturday, October
26, 1878, members of the public accused McIntyre of cowardice. They
considered he had deserted his colleagues after surrendering to the
bushrangers. But most of his superior officers stood by him, and asked:
“What more could be asked of an unarmed man under those circumstances?”
Despite massive police hunts, and the offer of large rewards for
the arrest of Ned Kelly, he and his gang would avoid capture for 20
months. By then, police located and surrounded them at Glenrowan,
where Dan Kelly, Hart and Byrne died in an ensuing siege.
Also at Glenrowan, police wounded and caught Ned Kelly.
He was nursed back to health and tried in the Melbourne Supreme Court
on October 28, 1880, on a charge of wilful murder. Found guilty by
a jury, he was hanged at the Melbourne Gaol on November 11, 1880.
A monument was later erected in Mansfield in memory of the three
policemen murdered in the line of duty at Stringy Bark Creek by the
four murderous “folk heroes” known as the Kelly Gang.
Were it not for McIntyre’s escape from the murderous gang’s ambush,
no first-hand account of the earlier part of the attack would exist.
McIntyre settled in Ballarat after he retired and died in 1903.
An informer, Aaron Sherritt, came to hear of the entire massacre
from Ned Kelly himself. Kelly had confided in him; and when Sherritt
related the details, as he had heard them, they supported McIntyre’s
account of the incident. The crime-scene findings, too, showed both
men’s stories to be reasonably accurate.
Just before the Glenrowan siege, Dan Kelly and Joe Byrne gunned down
an unarmed Sherritt in the doorway of his home. For informing on the
gang, he paid with his life.
Many Australians continue to excuse the Kelly family members for
their transgressions. They claim them to be people wrongly accused
by police, and driven to lives of crime.
Some modern-day researchers, who promote the Kelly brothers as folk
heroes, say the four policemen they ambushed were determined to gun
them down rather than arrest them.
If that were true, the officers would surely have armed themselves
with more than just revolvers - useful only at short range - and a
borrowed rifle and shotgun.
The true Stringy Bark Creek heroes
If, indeed, the Stringy Bark Creek massacre produced any heroes on
that October day in 1878, they were:
Constable Thomas Lonigan, 33 - emigrated from Ireland in 1867.
Joined the Victoria Police as a mounted constable on July 4, 1871.
Described in police records as “intelligent and efficient”.
Constable Michael Scanlan, 34 - emigrated from County Kerry,
Ireland, in 1863. Managed a store in Victoria before he joined the
police force in 1865. Did not have an unblemished early record, but
was honoured with several mentions of “commendable conduct”.
Described by a superior officer as: “A smart, efficient constable
who should, I think, when opportunity offers, be tried with promotion”.
Sergeant Michael Kennedy, 35 - immigrated to Australia and
joined the Victoria Police in 1864. Had served with the Dublin Metropolitan
Police and was said to be of “smart appearance” and a
“first rate constable”. An impressive number of arrests
and commendations to his name, and described by his superiors as “one
of the best men in the force”. Seemed destined for promotion
to much higher levels. Even Ned Kelly was said to have referred to
Kennedy as “the bravest man
I have ever met”.
Constable Thomas McIntyre, 32 - emigrated from Ireland and
had served almost three years with the Irish Constabulary. First worked
as a school teacher in NSW before joining the Victoria Police in December
1869. As the only survivor of the massacre, stood accused of cowardice.
(His superior officers, however, maintained that, under the circumstances,
they would have expected no more of any man.) Retired from the police
force owing to ill health in 1881. Enjoyed an unblemished record of
service, which indicated that he was “well conducted”
and “commended for service” for his arrest of a suspect
in a larceny case in 1877.
- Allan L Peters
