Of all the eager ghosts to emerge from the bushranging era of the 1860s, few have a story so compelling as that of Ben Hall.

Ever since his violent death on that cold autumn morning in 1865, the story of his life has remained something of an enigma.

He was a young man who had so much to live for; he held his own squatting run, he had a young wife and baby son, and he was held in high regard by his neighbours and friends.

But some time during the summer of 1862, while Ben was away on a mustering trip, Biddy left, taking their three year old son Harry with her.

He returned to find the house empty, his family gone. No note; nothing.

It was left to his sister in law, Ellen Maguire, to break the news.

The blame for the failure of the marriage has been variously apportioned to each of them. Whether Ben had been involved with someone else has never been proven, but certainly a quietly handsome, well dressed young squatter with an armoury of masculine charm would have made temptation hard to resist for some of the young ladies in the district.

From the time Biddy left it all went wrong. Why did he throw everything away?

Was he a good man who turned to bushranging after a series of misfortunes and police harassment, after which he allowed himself to be influenced by a number of career criminals, including with the notorious Frank Gardiner as well as Johnny Gilbert and John O’Meally?  Or was he was simply a product of the convict system, born of convict parents, whose natural inclination lay in a life of crime?

It is a question that has, perhaps unsurprisingly, disturbed generations of historians. Inevitably, in such subjective discussions, there will be a wide divergence of opinion regarding character and motivation.

Ben joined Frank Gardiner’s gang for the Escort Robbery in June 1862,  then quietly returned to Sandy Creek to resume work on the property until he was arrested and charged in late July.

Although those charges were eventually dropped, the die was cast, his fate decided. With John Maguire, his partner at Sandy Creek still held on remand in Sydney, the Crown Lease of the property was sold to a Forbes publican, John Wilson, and Ben Hall drifted into a life of idleness and resentment of all authority.

Over the next few months, a series of escalating confrontations with the police, and Inspector Pottinger in particular, culminated in the burning down of his house in March 1863.

Now he gravitated to full time bushranging and from that time on, the name of Ben Hall became synonymous all that was both notorious and romantic about bushranging in New South Wales.