PUT ON THE MAP BY A MURDERER AND THIEF - JERILDERIE (9 APRIL 2017)

As we ventured out onto the streets of Jerilderie on this still bleak Sunday afternoon, the co-pilot was determined that the chill of the still whistling winds would not deter her.

She had even managed to find her beanie!

Rugged up, we set off down the long, straight main thoroughfare towards the centre of town.

Jerilderie, we soon discovered, is one of what I would describe as 'ribbon towns', where homes spread out on each side of the main thoroughfare, but not far.....we could see the paddocks just beyond the end of this short side street.

So, before we wander off much further, a potted town history, if you please. 

In the mid 1800's squatters were beginning to take up grazing runs in this area. Eventually three local businesses were established to service the needs of these folk and travellers through the area, and this became the genesis of the town later in that century. 

Things were progressing peacefully enough until, in February 1879, the notorious Ned Kelly and his gang decided that the Jerilderie bank was ripe for the picking. The gang actually spent an entire weekend on that job which included capturing the local police, chopping down poles which carried the telegraph wires, and holding folk hostage in the Royal Mail Hotel......oh, yes, and emptying the bank of more than two thousand pounds, a more than modest sum in that day.

It was during this raid that Kelly dictated his now famous 'Jerilderie Letter', a rambling and bitter diatribe in which he heaped derision on the authorities and the social system of the day and attempted to justify his unlawful actions, including the cold blooded killing of three policemen.  

I have previously made very clear my views about the way in which this murderous gang has been glorified after their entirely inevitable (and overdue) deaths, so I'll not pursue the matter further other than to note that towns such as Jerilderie (and others we have visited including Euroa and Beechworth) do milk the Ned Kelly story for all its worth, as you will see.

These days, Jerilderie, a name derived from the local aboriginal language and meaning 'a reedy place', has a permanent population of something over 1,000. It is the centre of a thriving merino stud industry and irrigated agriculture and horticulture. In fact we were amazed to learn that an estimated quarter of all the tomatoes grown in Australia come from this district (given what cyclone Debbie did to the Bowen region which is also a huge supplier of tomatoes, we can only hope this is true!)

The district is also noted for the production of rice, wheat, canola, mung beans, soya, grapes and, in another surprise, licorice....yes, licorice. We actually saw a licorice farm as we drove towards the town and rated this as a 'first' in all our travels. 

Let's see what may be stirring on this sleepy Sunday.  En route into the heart of the town we passed the local Police Station, which, on the face of it did not present as anything but unremarkable, but I later learnt that even the local home of law and order has embraced the Kelly legend.


A number of the aspects of its construction reflect the Kelly history, such as, for example, the police lockup which has been designed to resemble Kelly's iron face mask. I found this extraordinary, and given the incident at Stringy Bark Creek where the three police were shot down by the gang, utterly inappropriate.






But let's move on, further west along the main road towards the commercial area

where we found the local IGA and a cafe

and the first of a few shopfront signs which either amused or confused. We did understand what the owners of the cafe were trying to convey, but thought perhaps the 'open' bit was somewhat misplaced given what was below it!











Across the road is the first of what are apparently three pubs in the town. I use the word 'apparently' because we only came across two, this, the Jerilderie Hotel,










and a short distance further along the street, the Royal Mail. Despite our penchant for rubbing shoulders with the locals over a pint or two in country pubs, we had neither the time nor the inclination today.....with the wind chill factor leaving us loping about the town in an apparent temperature of about 15 degrees, an icy beer had limited appeal.






Not too far from the IGA store, Powell Street branches off the main drag, and this we soon discovered, is the epicentre of Kelly history in the town. Here we first found the original Post and Telegraph office











and not too distant along the same street, the old iron shed which housed the local blacksmith to whom Joe Byrne brought some of the gang's horses to be re-shod. 





At both of these, and at many other points around the town, informative plaques such

as this one provide great detail about the gang's activity for those who are following the 'Kelly trail' here and elsewhere. In our case we came across them incidentally, but I have to say they are very well done and would be a decided boon to those with a greater interest than ours.

Powell Street is also home to the quaintest little B&B, situated between the Telegraph Office and the Smithy's. The mural on the shed wall depicts the old Institute building which once housed the town library (several buildings had this honour over the years we found)








As I looked more closely Liz asked why I had begun to chuckle....I think the photo provides the obvious answer!













The odd little gazebo adjacent to the entrance driveway did nothing to dispel my thoughts that a stay here could be decidedly 'different'.













And Powell Street continued to throw up local oddities, like this 'statue' of Kelly which graces the outdoor eating area at the rear of the Jerilderie bakery (sadly closed on Sundays......I could have killed for a hot pie).








On a more graceful note, 'The Willows', one of the town's oldest and most appealing 

buildings lies well aback from the road in its green surrounds, whilst a stone's throw away







we came across a building of equal age and local significance, but one which had little of the aesthetic appeal of its neighbour. 










This now privately owned residence, began its life at 'The Travellers Rest', the first pub in the town, built and run by the Powell family after whom the street is named. It was later re-licensed as 'The Albion' but ceased trading in 1921. 





I think I mentioned previously that the Jerilderie library has had a number of homes over the years. The rear of its latest reincarnation can also be found in Powell Street.











At the end of 'Jerilderie history central' we wandered into the very impressive local park, but not before passing another example of an old local home. Here the owners obviously have a real affinity with previous postal and phone services.










As I said a minute ago, Luke Park is impressive,













with its large lake, complete with (see the two white spots on the island)













strikingly coloured resident goats














and a massive and most interesting windmill (doesn't Liz look happy!!) 









For some reason or other (probably not the least of which was the fact that I was equally cold and we were on the gallop) I took no further interest in this structure......I should have.....it is one of only two working examples in existence.

I am indebted to the Murrumbidgee Council website for the following:

"Made by the Steel Wings Windmill Company of North Sydney in 1910 the windmill was originally erected at Goolgumbla Station for the owner Sir Samuel McCaughey.

It was transported by rail to Jerilderie and then taken by bullock wagons to Goolgumbla Station, 75 km north-west of Jerilderie.

Until 1947 it provided water to the Station's homestead, ram sheds, and dams along a 45 km irrigation channel system. It collapsed during a severe windstorm in 1977 and the then owners of the station, Dalgetys, offered it to Jerilderie as an historical exhibit.

Relocated to Luke Park, Jerilderie, and restored in 1979 the windmill is one of only six machines of this type ever made, and was the only one in operation throughout the world until 2004 when a second windmill was restored and erected in Taroom, Qld.

The Steel Wings windmill stands 50 feet high, has a 25ft diameter wheel, and a 24ft long tail piece. Its nose plate acts as a governor and automatically turns the machine out of high winds to save structural damage.  It operates a 6" plunger on a 19" stroke, lifting 2 gallons per revolution to offset evaporation losses from the lake adjacent to the park."

At last.....Jerilderie has another claim to fame!






At the further extremity of the park

















we came across the Jerilderie War Memorial framing this serene view across the water,

and nearby another reminder of conflicts past, a decommissioned Leopard tank, one of many now dotted around the country.

This would seem an appropriate time to note that Sir John Monash, one of the town's most famous sons, lived here for a few years before heading down to Melbourne for a broader education. As many would know, he later went on to play a significant role in WW1 where he commanded the combined Australian and US forces and was not only recognised as the most brilliant, innovative and successful General of that war, but also as the senior commander whose strategic and tactical brilliance brought the Germans to their knees. 

Isn't it a strange reflection on our way of thinking that recognition of Monash, as an erstwhile son of Jerilderie (albeit but a brief one), hardly rates a mention and pales into utter insignificance compared to Kelly.  Dare I say, 'such is life'!

By now Liz and I were both seriously cold, and we made our way back into the main street almost at the trot. Here I demonstrated I could take photos 'on the run' as we hoofed past the cream brick edifice which houses the seat of local government

and the old post office building opposite. 

As we re-entered this end of the main shopping area

we found the front of the local bakery and the old wooden building next door which houses the Jerilderie 'Lolly Shop'.

And finally, before we leave this end of town I do have to share another of those wonderfully witty signs which are part of the fun of travelling.  Guess where we found this...on the door of the local upholsterer's shop!!

And now, dear friends, I must leave this blog. As you can see, for some reason completely beyond me the formatting has gone crazy and I cannot for the life of me fix it (and I have learnt a few tricks over the years)

My apologies for this....thank goodness our brief but frenetic Jerilderie jaunt was all but over!