Local fossicker unlocks Kelly armour mystery

DARREN Sutton could not believe his eyes. Treading warily across the scorched earth outside Beechworth after the 2003 bushfires blasted through, he stumbled on something he always figured must be there. And his discovery goes a long way to solving one of the last mysteries surrounding the Kelly Gang.

The armour worn by Ned and Dan Kelly, Steve Hart and Joe Byrne is as iconic in Australian history as the Eureka Stockade flag and the images of our soldiers at Gallipoli.

But what an army of historians and folklore aficionados have been unable to establish in the 120 years since the armour made its mark on Australian judicial legend is, where was it made?

Sutton believes he has found the forge where Byrne's armour suit was created by local blacksmith Charlie Knight, and a friend, Thomas Straughair.

The only relic he has removed from the site is almost certainly an offcut from Byrne's armour. It has lain under topsoil and bush scrub for more than a century, and is an exciting new addition to the physical evidence of the Kelly gang.

This week, Sutton took The Age to the site. Also on the expedition was noted Kelly historian and author Ian Jones, whom Sutton invited for his expert opinion — and also because they are friends with a common enthusiasm for telling the Kelly story accurately.

Sutton is a Beechworth miner, fossicker, historian and tourist guide whose knowledge of the Kelly story and understanding of the district's topography has made him a respected local authority.

Although The Age is privy to the forge's location, we agreed not to reveal it. Sutton knows from grim experience that even word-of-mouth is enough to guarantee a culturally significant site will be stripped of relics before authorities can secure it.

Sutton and Jones say the Kelly legend has such a grip on the national consciousness, that any new location would be gutted within days.

"I don't want to see this stuff on eBay," Sutton says.

The "stuff" to which he refers is the remains of a brick hearth, firm evidence of an intense coal fire, cast iron offcuts, rough bolts and even smithy tools.

Sutton had long reasoned that Byrne's armour, which is in private hands but is often exhibited, must have been forged well outside a township; the Kelly gang could not have asked a town blacksmith to make body armour without arousing suspicion.

Sutton deduced some likely locations of the amateur forge, but with 120 years of soil movement and the accrual of scrub, finding it would be impossible.

He knew he had to wait patiently for natural forces to help.

When we arrive at what he and Jones believe is the Byrne forge, Sutton leads us off a track.

Since the 2003 fires, the bush has partly reclaimed the site. Young wattles and gums are growing close together, and we have to squeeze between them.

"When I came through here after the 2003 fires, there was nothing," he says. "The bush was literally burnt to the ground, which was still smoking."

Sutton's quest was again favoured by nature. Heavy rain washed away the newly exposed topsoil — and what he found stunned him.

He saw a pile of bricks sitting just out of the ground. There was a depression that must have been the hearth. Poking around, he found "clinker" — the molten slag produced by a coal fire.

"When I turned away from the forge, there was a scatter-line of metal junk going back some 10 metres," Sutton says.

It was easy enough to picture a sweating smithy pitching discards over his shoulder.

Nearby was a line of stump holes, evidence of a long-gone building with a raised floor.

But it was one particular piece of discarded metal that gripped Sutton. It looked like the rest of the Kelly armour. The four suits were made from the steel mould boards, some stolen from farmers' ploughs. others donated or purchased.

When he showed it to Jones, the writer was initially uncertain. It certainly resembled Kelly armour, but the configuration of the machined holes was not familiar.

Jones checked his files, and found that the holes did resemble those in the back plate of the armour worn by Dan Kelly. "All other things being equal, if the thickness aligned, it would be very credible as a piece cut off the bottom of a breast plate," Jones says.

Sutton says the soil where the abandoned forge lies is very acidic, and the metal had to have lost some thickness to rust and corrosion after being exposed for so long.

And the plate has receded away from the bolt holes, which still indicate the original thickness of the steel.

The cut-off "is about 30 per cent lighter than what it should be", Sutton says.

"Classically, the breast plates were made from two mould boards. Joe's were very well shaped," Jones says.

"You could quite easily believe that they put the two halves together, realised the plate was too long, and cut this piece off." Jones says a similar piece must have been removed from the other side of the breastplate.

Sutton says another vital clue is that the cut-off matches the way the rest of the armour has been beaten. It had been moulded into shape before being removed.

Jones says the Kelly armour was modelled on a prototype made by the Kelly gang and Ned's cousin, Tom Lloyd, on the side of Bald Hill. "Tom was virtually the fifth member of the gang," he says.

If this is a piece of Byrne's armour, it is an amazing find, but where were the other three suits made?

Sutton believes that secret has been handed down over the decades, and he could make an intelligent guess.

He hopes the keepers of the last bit of the Kelly mystery will one day take him into their confidence.

Meanwhile, the location of the Byrne forge will remain his secret until he is satisfied the authorities can guarantee the integrity of the site.