Harry Power

Harry Power (1819–1891) was an Australian bushranger, who at one time had Ned Kelly, another bushranger, serve as his accomplice while a teenager.

Henry Johnson, also known as Harry Power, was born in Waterford, Ireland on 18 May 1819 and grew up in Ashton-under-Lyne, Lancashire, England. When he was sixteen years of age his father had him apprenticed to the saddler trade. Later on he joined the peasants in their conflicts with the British troops. It was during this time that he received the sabre wounds on his face, which are described in the Victorian police records as, "Scar over right eyebrow, scars on right cheek."

He was convicted at Salford, Lancashire on 31 August 1840, and was sentenced to transportation for 7 years to Australia for stealing a bridle and saddle, under the name of Henry Johnson, and adhered to that name until he became a ticket-of-leave man.

He was freed in 1848 and moved to Sydney. By now he was calling himself Harry Power.

Power, was engaged driving cattle all over this colony and New South Wales, and afterwards with Captain Denman's party in exploring and cutting a track across the ranges. In a few years he became a splendid bushman, knowing almost every mile of the country. During all this time he appears to have been getting an honest living, even when he kept a horse yard at Geelong, which is ostensibly a respectable calling. One incident changed his whole career. He was riding one of his own horses, near Sandhurst, when he was bailed up by two drunken German troopers. "I was going along quietly," says Power, "when down came the two troopers, hooting and shouting. I saw they were drunk, and pulled on one side, but they stopped me. 'Whose horse is that?' says one. 'It's mine,' says I. 'Are you going to shout?' says the other. 'No,' says I, for I didn't like the Germans. 'I believe you stole that horse,' says the first.' 'You're a liar,' says I. ' You'll have to come along with us,' says the other. 'I won't do it,' says I, getting riled. On that one of them drew his hanger, and said he'd make me. 'You can't,' says I. He charged at me, and I'd only just time to draw my revolver, or he'd have cut me down. I shot him, and then the other fellow rode up and fired at me, and the powder singed my coat. I shot him, and then rode off. Now, if I had been sensible, I'd have ridden off to the nearest police station and given myself up. But I was frightened, and rode across the colony, thinking to go and stay in New South Wales till the row was over. At the Murray I was stopped. I did not deny my name or resist. They arrested and brought me down to Melbourne, and I got 10 years. The men were not hurt much, and it was proved they stopped me without cause, or I'd have got more."

...
Wikipedia