It happened on April 15, 1878. There was a new constable in the neighborhood. His name was Alexander Fitzpatrick, a man who's own reputation would later be called very much into question. By most accounts, Fitzpatrick, perhaps hoping to make a name for himself, had decided not long after his arrival in the area to bring in young Dan Kelly on charges of stock theft. And so, by his own account, he rode out to the Kelly homestead just before suppertime. In the years since, there have been many versions of the events of that day. According to some accounts, Fitzpatrick had been drinking before he headed out to the Kelly place, and may even have been abusive toward Kelly's younger sister. There is, of course, no proof of that.
The way Fitzpatrick told the story in a statement presented to the court at the time, he found Ellen Kelly at home with three of her children, and questioned her briefly. She was, obviously, unwilling to offer many details regarding her young son, and after about an hour, Fitzpatrick, he left, riding up a small hill where he found Kelly's brother in law, Will Skillion and Brickey Williamson, a friend of the Kelly clan chopping wood. He questioned them, just as briefly and just as fruitlessly.
Still, he lingered and when he later saw Skillion return, bringing them with them a rider less horse, he again approached the compound. This time, he found Dan Kelly inside. "I...told him I wanted to arrest him," Fitzpatrick wrote in his sworn statement. "He said, "My hell — wait a little while — I suppose you'll let me have something to eat."
According to Fitzpatrick's account, Dan Kelly sat down to supper and a moment later, Ned Kelly appeared at the door brandishing a pistol and fired a shot at the constable. The first shot missed, but sent Ellen Kelly into action. According to the constable's statement, the older woman grabbed a shovel and whacked Fitzpatrick on the head with it so hard that it dented his metal helmet. Ned Kelly, he claimed, then fired a second shot. This time the bullet clipped the constable in the wrist.
It is perhaps a measure of the sometimes ambivalent relationship between the outlaws of the time and the men who were charged with bringing them to justice, but there is general agreement among historians, based on both Fitzpatrick's statement and on Ned Kelly's, that in the moments after the constable was injured, Ellen, or Ned, or both, offered to bind his wound.
As Fitzpatrick himself put it, "Ned Kelly began to examine my wrist. He said, "Here's the bullet...we must have it out of him. (H)e got a rusty razor (and) I wanted him to let me go home to a medical man. He said, "You can't go away with that in your hand."
According to Fitzpatrick's account, he cut the bullet out himself using a small penknife, and then allowed Ellen Kelly to bandage the wound.
The Kellys who would later be depicted by the authorities as bloodthirsty murderers, then let Fitzpatrick go. Before they did, they exacted a promise from him that he would not report that he had been shot by Ned Kelly, or attacked by Ellen Kelly.
It is doubtful of course, that the Kelly's expected him to keep his word. And before Fitzpatrick's trail was even cold, Ned and his brother lit off for the bush, where they would use the survival skills Ned Kelly had learned during his apprenticeship to Harry Powers.
They would need them.