Ned Kelly Weekend Beechworth 2008
1st, 2nd, and 3rd August
Friday
It was 3.45 am Friday when my alarm clock had me springing like a gazelle from my warm bed. Under normal circumstances such a ridiculous hour on a winter’s morning would have had me curling deeper into my blanket, but I knew this was the start of the Ned Kelly Weekend in Beechworth and nothing short of an earthquake would keep me away. My suitcase had been packed 6 weeks in advance and all that had kept me waiting for what seemed like an eternity was the packing of my wife’s cosmetic supplies. The plane from Brisbane seemed like it had taken at least 12 hours to fly to Melbourne, but at 8.30am I soon found myself speeding along the Hume Highway northward bound and on to the beginning of a long awaited weekend.
It must have been around 11o’clock when we pulled into the town of Glenrowan. I wanted to see for myself what state the site of the Ann Jones Inn was left in after the recent archaeological excavation. The once tree filled corner block of land now looked nothing more than a vacant mud filled allotment you would see on a developers new housing estate after heavy rain. For the first time I had forgotten about the Beechworth Weekend and for a brief moment I felt rather sad as I tried to visualise of how things used to be. After taking a couple of photos I again remembered where I was off to, jumped in the car, and tried hard to leave all sad thoughts well and truly behind me.
By the time we arrived in the well preserved 19th century town of Beechworth it was already 1.00pm. The rain was still drizzling with no sign of it ever stopping. I was glad my wife had upgraded our accommodation to a small cottage not more than 10 metres from the Hibernian’s beer cellar. After unpacking and an afternoon nap, it was time to begin the festivities. It was 6.00pm and I knew that Brad and the Ironoutlaw punters would already be whooping it up at the Hibernian. When we arrived we were welcomed by Noelene Lloyd who then introduced us to the rest of the table; Lola Rowe, Judith Douthie, the author of I Was At The Kelly Gang Round-Up and her husband Eric. Brad arrived not 5 minutes later with his lovely wife Jennie and their young son, Thomas, who I might ad, looked very much like a miniature Brad. I had not had the pleasure of meeting Lola or Judith and was pleased that I did. I had always thought that Lola being the Granddaughter of Rachael Hart, Steve’s sister, would be a much older woman. I was surprised to see that she looked not much more than a mere slip of a girl. It must be in the genes.
After consuming 3 schooners of bourbon and coke it was now 7.00. Ros and I said our goodbyes and headed off to the Nicholas for dinner. I knew that the gentleman bushranger Brian McDonald would not be present this year and thought I’d stand a good chance of winning the best dressed competition. Lazy Harry kicked off the music and once more we were returned to the good ol’ gold rush days. The meal started with potato soup followed by beef or turkey with vegetables and a dessert of apple pie and cream or trifle. At 9.00 o’clock, and after my 10th schooner of bourbon and coke, I think I was singing along to ‘It’s a Long Way to Tipperary’ By 10 o’clock I was on the stage with Lazy Harry making animal noises. I don’t know what I was doing there, but somehow I ended up with a bottle of Ned Kelly port. I not only didn’t win best dressed but also missed out participating in the Ned Kelly quiz. Noelene Allen, the Historic Precinct’s co-ordinator, did an amazing job in making sure the evening went off with a bang. Well done Noelene!
Saturday
Early next morning I rugged up once more to face the bitterly cold elements and started for the historic precinct. I wanted to see what stalls had been set up and what wares they were selling. My first encounter was with a wine merchant who was selling that Ned Kelly port I had obtained the night before. I told him my name was Brad Webb and that I might give him some publicity on my web site in return for another bottle of his fine port. Unfortunately for me he knew Brad and promptly told me to P..S off. I tried it again at several other stalls and was surprised and somewhat disappointed in the fact that Brad Webb was known by so many people.
At 11o’clock I found myself fighting for a seat in the courthouse for the trial re-enactment. I’d seen the re-enactment before but for some reason I always want to see it again. After I had found the only seat available, my granddaughter appeared from nowhere and told me that nanny wants to see me outside. I knew the predicament I was in. Should I stay put, or lose my seat just because my wife wanted to talk to me about some trivial matter?
When I returned to my seat it was already taken, so I found myself in the back row corner of the gallery looking down on none other than that Collateral troublemaker, Stinger Nettleton, sitting like Lord Muck on the bloody jury. The re-enactment covers Ned’s preliminary hearing in Beechworth and his trial in Melbourne. The actors dressed in period costume always do a wonderful job and is an event not to be missed.
By 1.00 o’clock the Historic Precinct was filled with people all taking in the atmosphere of the day. Music was all around, the merchants tents were busy selling everything from wine barrels to just about every book available on Ned and the boys, and the displays and exhibitions were surrounded. I was particularly interested in the fencer. He used a large array of different axes and other primitive looking tools in the making of the post and rail fencing. Simply an amazing sight. Throughout the town, the smell of sausages and steak cooking on barbeques seemed to drift forever on the bracing chilly air. With so many things to see and do, before long it was almost 2.00 o’clock and time for the Webb-Master to deliver his presentation on Ned Kelly and the Emergence of Technology.
I caught up with him outside the courthouse looking more like a 6 stone larrikin about to take on Mike Tyson. ‘Settle down mate says I. There’ll only be a handful of people going anyway’. I remembered those words when I was trying once more to find a seat in the packed to the rafters courthouse. Without seeming to suck up to Mr. Webb, his presentation was one of the most interesting of the weekend. What was to last for an hour could have quite easily gone for two. The number of questions fired at Brad at the end of his presentation were ongoing. If you want to know what interested so many people, have a look at his talk on the site and see for yourself. Not only did he give a great talk but was even giving away copies of Ned Kelly: Exhibition. Not to miss an opportunity I pushed my way through the stampede and secured myself a good dozen books. Within 5 minutes I had already set up my modest stall in the Police Paddock and was selling them for $10 each. Things were going well until the precincts co-ordinator set the bloody traps on me for the illegal use of a stall and gave me 30 minutes in the holding cell. I apologised profusely and quickly returned to my lodgings.
At 7.00 o’clock that night the crowd was once more pouring into the courthouse. This time it was for a show that I had been very eager to see… ‘The Jerilderie Letter’ performed by an amazing bloke named Peter Finlay. With only his head showing and made up to look like Ned Kelly’s death mask, Peter delivered a captivating performance. I’ve read the Jerilderie Letter many times, but the passion that was put into Peter’s performance brought Ned once more to this world. I’m still trying to work out how the hell he remembered the whole letter. I’m flat out remembering the first two lines. With Malcolm Hill playing guitar, I knew Mr Jones was excited.
I could tell by the snowy hair on the back of his neck standing quite erect. Another strange thing happened in the seat in front of me. A fellow slumped down in his seat as if looking for loose change on the floor. As the show was almost at an end I then thought he was simply tired, but was soon to find out he was quite ill and needed an ambulance. I found out later that the poor fellow was suffering from low blood pressure. He was a local man and to show how tough the locals are in Beechworth, he simply sucked in a few gasps of oxygen from the ambulance driver and proceeded across the road to the Town Hall for the Ashley Davies and Ian Jones show ‘Ned Kelly’. Now that’s what I call the spirit of the North East.
After seeing the show I knew why this local man was keen to attend. The large screen lit up with pictures of Ned Kelly and the landscape that surrounded him. With narration from Ian Jones and the driving and sometimes haunting music from the band, the story of Ned Kelly came to life. To see galloping horses ridden by wild men in an untamed land backed by the primitive beat of drums sent shivers down my back. But like all the previous shows, they came to an end too soon. This one was a cracker, and Ashley and Ian should be congratulated for producing such an extraordinary and exciting performance. It was now 11.00 o’clock and the day was at an end. I was feeling a little sad as I knew I would be leaving Beechworth at 11.00 o’clock the next morning for my flight back to Brisbane, but there was still much more to see and do before I left.
Sunday
Early Sunday morning our suitcases were packed and loaded into the car for the long drive back to the Melbourne Airport. There was one last presentation I had time to attend. At 10.00 I entered the old courthouse for Graham Fricke’s talk on Redmond Barry. He’s not only a man of law but a fine author. Graham spoke in depth of Barry’s background and as personifying that of Anglo Irish Gentry up against the likes of the bog Irish such as one Edward Kelly. He described Barry’s character with a dozen adjectives and not one complimentary. I found the talk very interesting and learnt a lot about this Nemesis of Ned’s. The presentation was finalised with questions from the audience that Graham had given out beforehand which I thought was a novel way of keeping things under control.
Immediately after leaving the courthouse I caught up with Noelene Allen to thank her for a fantastic weekend and a job well done. I was disappointed I would not have the time to see the Beard Competition and that famous Boxing Match between Ned and Wild Wright, but I’m sure Brad, the M.C of both events will be only too pleased to fill us in. As we drove out of this beautiful old town I turned my head for one last look and to say goodbye. To the Indigo Shire Council for making this great event possible and to the many volunteers who worked tirelessly throughout the weekend, to old friends and new, and to the friendly people of Beechworth … I thank you.
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