Bracken
Posted: Mon Oct 08, 2012 5:32 am
There are many unsung heroes, on both sides of the fence, in the Kelly saga. Constable Hugh Bracken is one of them.
Bracken
© Stephen Whiteside 07.10.2012
Who was there on duty, with the flu, in dressing gown,
In that winter, 1880, when the Kellys came to town?
Bracken.
Who was held at gunpoint, and escorted with the rest
To Ann Jones’ little shanty as an uninvited guest?
Bracken.
Who spied the key untended as the siege was taking shape,
Then dropped it in his trouser cuff and made good his escape?
Bracken.
Who rode to Wangaratta on a breathless, sweaty steed
To spread the news, and bring in reinforcements at great speed?
Bracken.
Who stared down Sergeant Steele when at last Ned called, “I’m done!”,
And rescued Ned from murder at the barrel of a gun?
Bracken.
Who faced the condemnation of his colleagues in the force
For insisting proper justice be allowed to take its course?
Bracken.
Who blew his brains out one fine day, when all the worlds was sweet,
With Glenrowan well behind him, and the future at his feet?
Bracken.
It was Bracken, one Hugh Bracken, who did all of this, and more;
Who worked hard, and schemed with courage to uphold this nation’s law.
Yet History is fickle, like a bushfire on the run,
In those it overlooks while settling on its favoured son.
There are some who opt for Curnow, there are many shout for Ned,
But spare a thought for Bracken, prodded ailing from his bed.
If anyone is counting, or they’re tallying a score,
Then Constable Hugh Bracken should be well up to the fore.
Bracken
© Stephen Whiteside 07.10.2012
Who was there on duty, with the flu, in dressing gown,
In that winter, 1880, when the Kellys came to town?
Bracken.
Who was held at gunpoint, and escorted with the rest
To Ann Jones’ little shanty as an uninvited guest?
Bracken.
Who spied the key untended as the siege was taking shape,
Then dropped it in his trouser cuff and made good his escape?
Bracken.
Who rode to Wangaratta on a breathless, sweaty steed
To spread the news, and bring in reinforcements at great speed?
Bracken.
Who stared down Sergeant Steele when at last Ned called, “I’m done!”,
And rescued Ned from murder at the barrel of a gun?
Bracken.
Who faced the condemnation of his colleagues in the force
For insisting proper justice be allowed to take its course?
Bracken.
Who blew his brains out one fine day, when all the worlds was sweet,
With Glenrowan well behind him, and the future at his feet?
Bracken.
It was Bracken, one Hugh Bracken, who did all of this, and more;
Who worked hard, and schemed with courage to uphold this nation’s law.
Yet History is fickle, like a bushfire on the run,
In those it overlooks while settling on its favoured son.
There are some who opt for Curnow, there are many shout for Ned,
But spare a thought for Bracken, prodded ailing from his bed.
If anyone is counting, or they’re tallying a score,
Then Constable Hugh Bracken should be well up to the fore.