Black Trackers--Again in Charge with _carte blanche_--Aaron
Sherritt's Doom--The Beginning of the End--Glenrowan--Sticking up
the Hotel--Bracken's Escape--The Police on the Alert--A Dangerous
Journey--Mr. Curnow's Adventure.
Before I close this part of my narrative I wish to say that I have not
given a hundredth part of what actually took place during the time I
was searching for the outlaws. I felt sure, sooner or later, one of
the different parties who were out in search of them would drop across
them, as the outlaws had always to be on the alert, never knowing
when a party would be on them. Ned Kelly said after his capture, the
hardest part of their life was the constantly keeping guard for fear of
surprise. They were dreadfully afraid of the black trackers--I mean the
men that came from Queensland--I was told it was marvellous how these
men could follow a track across the bush. I was out on two occasions
with them, but I did not see anything particularly striking about
them, but other Victorian officers spoke in the highest terms of their
wonderful skill in tracking.
When Moses was with me I saw him do a fine piece of tracking. We were
on a flat at the back of Warby's Ranges, and after lunch started to
search a range in the mountains, leaving our packs at the camp, and a
man in charge. We had been searching several hills, and about half an
hour before sunset one of the men drew my attention to some tracks of
horses coming from the Wangaratta side of the range. I called Moses and
showed them to him. He dismounted, looked about, and said they were
from horse tracks about four days old, three big horses and one small
one; he pointed in the direction they were going. It was exactly in
the opposite direction to where our camp was. He said, "Shall I follow
them?" I replied, "Yes." He took some cartridges out of his belt and
put one in his rifle, and without saying another word, off he galloped
as hard as he could go across country, we all following him. We went
for about five or six miles. Suddenly Moses pulled up, and we found
ourselves on the cross road running from Wangaratta to Yarrawonga.
Moses said, "The tracks have gone into this dusty road, and I can't
follow them any further." I replied, "Surely you have not been on the
tracks all the while." He said, "Oh, yes; I will show you." He got off
his horse and showed me the four tracks--three large horses and one
small one. He then galloped up one side of the cross road and back the
other, to see if the tracks crossed either the one side or the other,
but without any result. We then returned to our camp. We were without
coats, it was bitterly cold, and we had nine or ten miles to ride.
Next morning we started to try and pick up the tracks again, and I
suggested we should work back to see where they came from. We did so,
and found they were coming from the direction of a sympathizer's house
which we had surrounded a few nights before. We rode on for about a
mile, and suddenly Moses pulled up, and said, "They have been camping
here." I could see no signs of anything. I said, "How do you know?"
He replied, "One saddle been there," pointing to a spot, "another
there, and there." I dismounted and could see no signs of anything. We
searched about and found where a small fire had been made. Searching
further he found under some rocks, where the black fellow had noticed
the stones had been removed, the identical tins which we had given
Sergeant Kelly when I directed him to take up his position in the
mountain overlooking the house. I afterwards ascertained that it was
just four days before we were there, that Sergeant Kelly had left this
camp and gone the road Moses had followed the previous evening. I have
given this story just to show the wonderful powers these blacks have in
following tracks.
In addition to going out in search parties, I had a number of agents
always working for me, but I felt the information they gave was of
little use. They would tell us the outlaws were seen at some distant
place, and what they intended doing, but all this information was of
little service to us, beyond letting us know they were in the country.
This we had no doubt of, and I often asked Sherritt if there was any
chance of them leaving the district, and he scorned the idea. He said,
"Most decidedly they can never leave, and the day they attempt to do
so they will be captured." I never could understand why they did not
separate and make for Queensland as swagmen; but Sherritt was quite
right; they never did leave, beyond going across the Murray, where
they had many friends, and they were always within a day or two's ride
of their own relations. They never had horses with them, except when
they went on some raid; otherwise we must some time or other have come
across their tracks. They could not have kept their horses out of
sight. I was told that on two or three occasions I and my party nearly
surprised them, and that once they had to take refuge in the head of a
fallen tree to escape us.
When the inspecting superintendent relieved me he adopted a different
system to mine. He did away with all search parties, and depended
entirely on agents, thinking he might lead the outlaws to believe
that he was under the impression they had left the colony, and thus
beget a feeling of security which might lead them to become careless
about their movements. He had some reliable agents, who were giving
him information of all the movements of the outlaws. Our two systems
were entirely different. I thought mine was the best, the inspecting
superintendent thought otherwise, and he begged to be allowed to
continue carrying out his plans. The press throughout the colony
was calling out about the disgraceful conduct of the police in not
capturing the offenders. A change of Ministry having taken place about
this time, the Government were determined to try some other measures to
effect the arrest of the bushrangers.
One morning Captain Standish told me that Mr. Ramsay, the chief
secretary, had decided I was to relieve the inspecting superintendent,
and take charge of affairs again at Benalla. I protested, and told
him I had already tried my hand and failed, and that there were many
officers in the force senior to me who should have a trial. He replied:
"The Government have decided upon your going, and you must go." I saw
the chief secretary on the subject, and his reply was, "Mr. Hare,
the Cabinet have decided that you are to take charge of affairs at
Benalla. They have the utmost confidence in your discretion, we give
you _carte blanche_ to do whatever you think desirable, you are to
consider yourself independent of all control, and anything you do the
Government will bear you out in." I told Mr. Ramsay that I felt very
much flattered at the confidence reposed in me, and that I was ready to
start at once.
In the meantime the inspecting superintendent, having received orders
to hand over the charge of affairs to me, came at once to Melbourne,
and saw Mr. Ramsay. He told the chief secretary he felt sure if left
in the district a short time longer, he would without doubt capture
the outlaws. He begged to be allowed to remain a little while, and
Mr. Ramsay gave him another month. He went back to Benalla, and
did everything in his power to effect a capture, but all to no
purpose--and I was compelled to go back to Benalla, very much against
my inclination, on 1st June 1880.
I first began to find out what had been going on during my absence from
the district. I saw some of the agents who had been employed by the
inspecting superintendent, and got them to remain in my employ. I then
took steps to remove the trackers, as I had informed Mr. Ramsay, it was
said that as long as they were in the district the outlaws would not
show out, and I was anxious they should do something, as it would give
us a better opportunity of falling across them. Besides, the Queensland
authorities wanted their trackers back, as they belonged to their force
of native police, and the officer in charge was anxious to return also.
I arranged with Captain Standish they should leave as soon as they
could conveniently do so.
After I had found out all I could concerning the movements of the
outlaws at Benalla, I started off to Beechworth and saw Aaron Sherritt.
I found he had married during my absence, and his family and his wife's
relations did not get on together, as she was a Roman Catholic and he a
Protestant, and his family were vexed with him for marrying. Aaron had
taken a cottage on the road from Beechworth to Eldorado near Woolshed,
where he and his wife resided. I had a long interview with him, finding
out all that had taken place during my absence, and the different
interviews he had had with the outlaws whilst I was away from the
district. He expressed himself very pleased at my return, and told me
he did not get on as well with the inspecting superintendent as he did
with me, and he would set to work with fresh zeal and endeavour to find
out where the outlaws were to be found. He told me that a fortnight
ago they were at his mother's house looking for his brother Jack, whom
they wanted to join them, and four constables had been sent to his
house in hopes that they might call on him; but when the inspecting
superintendent was leaving the district, these men had been removed,
and he was of opinion that it would be as well to send them back.
I ordered them back, and directed that they should stay indoors all
day and watch Mrs. Byrne's house by night, as Aaron lived about
three-quarters of a mile from her. I also made arrangements to have the
Harts' house watched from Wangaratta, and for a party to watch Kelly's
house from Glenrowan. The orders to the men were, that after dark
every night they were to leave their abode singly, and walk away to the
watching-place, so that if any of them should be met, no notice would
be taken of a man walking alone. They were to take up their positions
within view of the houses, but not near enough for the inmates to
discover their whereabouts.
I kept moving about and working hard. Rumours were coming in from all
directions that the sympathizers were very active, that something was
about to happen. Old Mrs. Byrne was very jubilant, and she told a
person--who repeated it to me--that the gang was about to do something
that would astonish not only the colony, but the whole world.
Horses were reported as being stolen in several directions, all
supposed to be by the gang. Constable Bracken, who was in charge at
Glenrowan, reported that the four men who had been watching Kelly's
house were completely knocked up, being out night after night in the
wet, and asked me to let them be sent to Benalla to recruit themselves
for a few days. I consented, but I had no other men to replace them. I
paid another visit to Beechworth, saw Detective Ward, and told him I
was not at all satisfied with the way the men were conducting things at
Aaron's house.
Two or three reports came to hand, informing me that Paddy Byrne had
saddled his horse at his mother's place at two o'clock in the morning,
and started off into the ranges, and instead of the men accompanying
Aaron to endeavour to follow him, they let him go alone. I decided to
go down that night to visit the party at Woolshed. Ward and I started
away from Beechworth about eight o'clock, and reached Aaron's house
about 9.30. I stood in the road whilst Ward went to the house to find
out from Aaron's wife where the men were to be found, as they should
have been out watching. We found one of the men at the hut, and he told
us the others were away with Aaron watching Mrs. Byrne's house. I left
Ward at the hut, and got this constable to show me where the men were
watching. He purposely lost his way, and kept me fully an hour going
one mile. I believe he kept me all this while in the bush to gain time
for the men to take up their positions, as it turned out that none of
the men were watching Mrs. Byrne's house but Aaron.
When I got to the watching-place I met the constable who was in charge
of the party. I asked him why he had left one constable behind at
Aaron's house? His reply was, "That man has deceived you, Mr. Hare;
we were all of us at Aaron's house when you called with Ward," he
said. "I was collecting wood on the hills--Aaron alone was watching."
I severely reprimanded the constable for misleading me. I then spoke
to the constable in charge about matters in general. He appeared to be
a smart, intelligent man. I asked if he had made up his mind what he
would do if the outlaws came to Mrs. Byrne's. He said: "I would shoot
the lot of them if Aaron said they were the men." I told him to be
careful not to make a mistake and shoot any one else. I left them, and
Aaron walked back with me to his house to pilot me across the diggings.
No sooner did he get within sight of his house than he said, "You can't
go wrong; there is the house. I will return, as I don't like leaving
the men there alone." I saw he was just as zealous as ever. I thought
all this zeal might have been put on to deceive me, but I listened to
his footsteps making back as fast as he could. I thought after he had
let me go he would probably return to his hut for a cup of tea, as the
night was bitterly cold, and he was dressed as usual, with a white
shirt, trousers, and boots. I sat there fully half an hour, but I heard
no sign of his returning. I went to the hut, picked up Ward and my
horse, and rode back to Beechworth, telling Ward I was convinced that
the men at Sherritt's house were not working as they should, and that
I had decided I would remove them and send others in their place as
soon as I could arrange to do so. Exactly at that time on the following
Saturday Aaron was shot, and two of the outlaws were guarding his place
for some hours afterwards.
On Saturday evening, the 26th June, about nine o'clock, a man named
Antone Wicks, a German, who lived about a quarter of a mile from Aaron
Sherritt's house, was stuck up by Joe Byrne and Dan Kelly. He was
handcuffed by the outlaws, and made to accompany them to Sherritt's
house. He was told to call Aaron out, and say he had lost his way, and
ask him to put him on the road, as it was quite dark. When the three
arrived at Aaron's house Wicks knocked at the door; Aaron said, "Who is
there?" The German replied, "It is Antone Wicks, he has lost his way."
Aaron opened the door, and Wicks said, "Come and show me the way."
Aaron said, "Who is that?" at the same moment stepping out of his door.
Joe Byrne jumped forward and fired at him. He retreated to the middle
of the room, and Byrne stood in the doorway and fired a second shot,
and Aaron dropped down dead without saying a word. It is commonly
believed that Ned Kelly was present at the shooting of Sherritt, but
Wicks stated that only Byrne and Dan Kelly were there; they kept him
handcuffed all the while they remained at Sherritt's house.
It might be as well to explain why they took Wicks up to Aaron's house
to call him out. The outlaws may have heard voices in Aaron's house,
and thought that if they called him outside his door their voices would
have been recognized by him, and he would have been on his guard, so
they got Wicks, who lived close by Aaron, to call him.
Whilst all this was going on at Woolshed, Ned Kelly and Hart were busy
elsewhere. About 2.20 o'clock on Sunday morning 27th June, a railway
line repairer, named Reardon, was awakened by Ned Kelly and Hart at
Glenrowan, and told to get up and dress himself. Kelly presented a
revolver at his head, and told him he wanted him and a man named
Sullivan, also a line repairer, to go and pull up the rails. He said,
"We were at Beechworth last night, and killed several people. I expect
a special train will be sent from Benalla with a number of police and
black trackers, and I am going to kill the lot." Reardon begged Kelly
not to take him, as he had a wife and large family. Kelly replied, "You
must come, or I will shoot you." Kelly told him to pick up the tools he
required. Kelly, Hart, Reardon, and some other workmen walked along the
line to a place about half a mile away from Glenrowan, where there was
a steep embankment with a fall on each side of about twenty or thirty
feet. Hart pointed out the rails to be taken up, and Reardon and the
others took up two rails. They were a considerable time about it, and
Kelly found fault with them for not being quicker, and threatened to
tickle some of them with his revolver if they did not hurry up. When
this was done they all walked back to Glenrowan, and were marched into
Mrs. Jones's hotel, and were kept prisoners there.
[Illustration: Steve Hart.]
It is not positively known at what hour Joe Byrne and Steve Hart
appeared on the scene, but it was some time in the morning. Throughout
the day the four outlaws took possession of the township. They kept
watching for persons passing Mrs. Jones's hotel, and they would call
upon them to "bail up," and march them off to the hotel, which for
the time being was converted into a prison-house by the outlaws. By
the evening they had captured sixty-two people. Amongst those
thus detained was Constable Bracken, an excellent ex-constable, who
rejoined the force for the express purpose of assisting in the capture
of the Kelly gang. He was a clever, shrewd, careful, quiet man. Young
Reynolds, the son of a neighbour, came to the police station about
eight or nine o'clock on Sunday night, and called Bracken to come
outside to his father, who wanted him. The object in getting Reynolds
to call Bracken, was to prevent the constable from recognizing the
outlaw's voice, so the boy, who lived near the police station, was made
to call him.
It was the habit of constables, when called by any one during the
night, not to show themselves unless they had their revolvers in their
hands. Bracken, hearing young Reynolds' voice, got up without taking
this precaution; being unwell, he had gone to bed early. The moment he
opened his door, which led into the yard, Ned Kelly, who was standing
beside the boy, covered him with his revolver, and ordered him back
into the house. One of the other outlaws was also present. Kelly at
the time had his armour on, with a waterproof coat over all. They made
Bracken dress himself, he being the only constable at the station, and
told his wife that she was to remain in the barracks, and, if she gave
information to any one, or answered any call during the night, they
would shoot her husband. Mrs. Bracken said she looked out of her window
two or three times during the night, and saw men watching her house.
This may have been fancy or fear on her part. Bracken was marched
off to Jones's hotel, and found sixty-two prisoners there. Dancing
was going on, and everybody appeared in great spirits. Of course,
amongst these sixty-two prisoners there were several of the Kellys'
sympathizers, who, if a rush had been contemplated, would have given
the gang warning. When Bracken was admitted into the room the doors
were locked, so that nobody could leave. Dan Kelly had charge of the
key which opened the front door, and Bracken kept watching him.
About ten or eleven o'clock at night Dan Kelly commenced to dance,
and before doing so he put the key on a mantel-piece. Bracken sidled
towards the fire-place, and taking the key, slipped it down his boot
unobserved by any one. The dancing was kept up with great spirit until
some one called out, "The train is approaching!" The outlaws at once
went into an adjoining room and began to put on their armour, but no
one knew what they were doing. About ten minutes afterwards the train
stopped, and there was great excitement. Bracken saw his chance of
escape. He took the key from his boot, opened the front door, and ran
towards the railway station. The first thing the Kellys did when they
came out of the side room was to look for Bracken, but they could not
find him, and appeared very much annoyed.
About one o'clock on Sunday afternoon, 27th June, a messenger was
sent to my hotel in Benalla, who told me that there was an important
message for me at the telegraph office. I went there, and found that
intelligence had come that Aaron Sherritt had been shot at his own
house at nine o'clock the previous night by the outlaws. I at once
sent a wire to Captain Standish, telling him of the circumstances, and
requesting him to send the black trackers back to Benalla at once, as
they had left for Melbourne on the previous Friday.
Captain Standish was out of town when the telegram arrived, and it did
not reach him till about five in the afternoon. He then at once placed
himself in communication with Mr. Ramsay, the chief secretary, and,
strange to say, sent me a wire that he would send the trackers up by
an early train next morning. I replied, "If they are not sent up by a
special train to-night, they need not come at all." In the meantime
Mr. Ramsay called on the Minister of Railways, and arranged to have a
"special" ready to take the trackers back to Benalla, and they left
town about eight or nine o'clock that night, and were to reach Benalla
about 12.30 A.M. The officer in charge of the district and myself
remained all the afternoon at the telegraph office, and I can never
forget the assistance rendered me during that trying afternoon by that
officer. Unfortunately, it being Sunday, many of the operators were
away from their offices. We called as many as we could, and had to
engage private individuals to convey on horse-back the intelligence to
others, directing them to be ready for any emergency that might happen.
We felt sure that something of importance would follow such a deed, but
had no idea when or where it would take place, so that every possible
precaution had to be taken.
We sent to the railway station and ordered a special train to be ready
in case the trackers were not coming up that night, and I arranged to
take a party of men from Benalla to Beechworth. Unfortunately, none of
my old men were there, but still I had a very good lot. I had also two
of our own black trackers, "Moses" and "Spider," both Queensland men,
but they did not come specially to Victoria as trackers. I kept them,
and would have taken them had the others not been sent back to me; and
we also arranged, in the event of anything happening during my absence,
to have a party of men ready to start off at a moment's notice.
We got a wire that the trackers would leave Melbourne that night, and
so we decided to keep the special engine that was ready for us to act
as a pilot to our train. Everything was in order to start off directly
the men arrived. My plans were as follows:--The train with my own men,
horses, and trackers would reach Beechworth about four o'clock in the
morning (Monday); we would get our horses out directly we arrived, and
start off to Sherritt's house, put the trackers on the outlaws' tracks,
and endeavour to follow them.
We had made no other plans beyond these. In my own mind I felt
convinced we should never reach Beechworth, but I told no one of my
convictions. About ten o'clock I lay down to get an hour's sleep, and
at midnight had all the horses and baggage put in the train, so that we
could start off directly the trackers arrived. They reached Benalla a
little after one, having had some delay on the road in consequence of
having run through some gates, which flew up and broke the brakes.
It was decided by the railway authorities at Benalla that the engine
that came from Melbourne should act as pilot. I had a consultation with
the two engine-drivers before we started, telling them to be on the
alert and keep a good look-out, as I felt sure either the rails would
be pulled up, or something would happen before we got to Beechworth.
The driver of the Benalla engine asked me to let a constable stand
on the side-plate in front so as to keep a good look-out. I selected
Constable Barry for this post. He was to fasten a strap round the
brass rod which runs along the engine, and to put his arm through that
to hold on by. It was afterwards stated that I had made him sit on
the buffers. However, the driver of the pilot engine dispensed with
his services, so Barry was not put in this dangerous position. I told
the driver of my train on no account to let the pilot get more than a
hundred yards away from him, and consulted the two drivers as to the
most probable place for the rails to be interfered with. They fixed on
the very spot where the rails were taken up. I told them to be very
careful in going down the hill indicated. It was arranged we were not
to stop between Benalla and Wangaratta, there being no occasion for
doing so.
We left Benalla a little before two o'clock. The train from Melbourne
had brought up the officer in charge of the five trackers, and five
reporters connected with the Melbourne papers. The officer in charge
of the trackers having recently been married, we allowed his wife and
sister to accompany him in the train, intending that they should remain
at Beechworth while he followed the tracks of the outlaws. I got into
the compartment with the officer and the ladies, the reporters having
a compartment to themselves, and the constables another. I had put my
rifle on the rack of the carriage, and was just arranging to lie down
and have a sleep, when the engine gave a whistle, and stopped. I jumped
up, put my head out of the window, and saw the three red lights of the
pilot just ahead of us. I loaded my rifle, jumped out of the train,
and met the guard of the pilot coming towards me. We were then about a
mile from Glenrowan. He told me that they had seen a red light on the
line, and pulling up to ascertain what it was, found a man, who said
he was the school-master, and stated that the Kelly gang had pulled
up the line of rails, and he told the driver he must be very careful.
This person then ran away, notwithstanding that the driver begged him
to see me before he left. They told him I was in the train behind; but
he said no, he had to return to his wife, and ran off. It afterwards
turned out the man was Mr. Curnow, the local school-master, who, having
no lamp by which to stop the train, got a red scarf and held a candle
behind it when he heard the train approaching, but, having left his
wife alone, he hurried back for fear some of the gang might see him.
After the guard of the pilot had related this story to me, I called
four of my men, and putting two on each side of the line, we walked
towards the engine. The driver told me the same story as the guard. I
considered for a moment what was best to be done, consulting with my
men, and thinking that the information given by the person representing
himself as a school-master was a ruse, especially as Glenrowan was only
about three miles from Kelly's house, I returned to my train (they
were about 150 yards apart), and told those who were in the train to
be prepared for any emergency, as I could not say what might happen. I
put my senior constable with three men on the tender belonging to the
train engine, and went myself with the three remaining men on the pilot
engine, both being coupled together. In that way we went slowly along,
half the men facing one side of the line, half the other, I myself
standing beside the driver of the pilot engine.
In that way we approached Glenrowan station, which was all in darkness.
When about fifty yards from the station the driver would insist
that there was a man standing on the platform, but it was only his
imagination. We pulled up, but not seeing or hearing any one about, we
proceeded slowly into the station. I ordered the men to jump on to the
platform, and keep a sharp look-out.
In order that the reader may have a clear idea of the events happening
at Glenrowan, I break off here my own personal narrative to insert the
account given before the police commissioner afterwards, by Mr. Curnow,
one of the sixty-two prisoners confined in the hotel by the gang.
"On Sunday morning, 27th June, 1880, I determined to take my wife,
sister, and child out for a drive along the road from Glenrowan to
Greta. We left the school in a buggy at about eleven o'clock in the
morning, accompanied by David Mortimer, my brother-in-law, who rode on
horse-back. When we got in sight of Mrs. Jones's hotel, and opposite
the railway crossing, through which we intended to pass, we noticed a
number of people about the hotel, and at the crossing. I said, 'Mrs.
Jones must be dead; she has been very ill.' As we got near the hotel,
a man ran out of it towards Mrs. Jones's stable, distant about twenty
yards from the hotel. I drove past the hotel to the crossing, and,
seeing Mr. Stanistreet, asked him, 'What's the matter?' He replied,
'The Kellys are here; you can't go through.' I thought he was joking,
and made a motion to drive through the gates, when a man on horse-back,
who blocked up the crossing, and was talking to a young man whom I knew
to be named Delaney, wheeled round his horse and said to me, 'Who are
you?' I then saw that he had revolvers in his belt, and was convinced
of the truth of Mr. Stanistreet's statement that the Kellys were there.
I replied that I was the teacher at Glenrowan. He said, 'Oh! you are
the school-master here, are you? and who are those?' pointing to my
wife, sister, and brother-in-law. I told him. He then said, 'Where are
you going?' I answered, 'Out for a drive.' He then said, 'I am sorry,
but I must detain you,' and directed us to get out of the buggy, which
we did. He then turned again to Delaney and resumed his conversation
with him. I afterwards found that the man who had addressed me was Ned
Kelly, the outlaw. I noticed another armed man near Ned Kelly, and I
afterwards found out that he was Byrne.
"When we got out of the buggy, I led the horse off the crossing, and
tied him to the railway fence alongside, directing Mrs. and Miss
Curnow to go into Mr. Stanistreet's house, which they did. As soon
as I had fastened the horse, I joined Mr. and Mrs. Stanistreet and
others, who I was told had been taken prisoners by the gang, and was
informed by them that Glenrowan had been stuck up since three o'clock
that morning, and that the gang had forced Reardon and others to
tear up part of the railway line beyond the station, for the purpose
of wrecking a special train of police and black trackers, which the
outlaws said would pass through Glenrowan. Some person--I believe it
was one of the boys who had been bailed up by the gang--then told me
that the Kellys had been at Beechworth during the previous night, and
had shot several policemen.
"After some further conversation, we all listened to what Ned Kelly
was saying to Delaney. The outlaw was accusing Delaney of having, some
short time previously, ridden a horse from near Greta into Wangaratta
to oblige a policeman, and of having sought admission into the police
force. He threatened to shoot Delaney for this, and pointed a revolver
at him several times. Ned Kelly declared to all of us who were
listening to him, that he would have the life of any one who aided the
police in any way, or who even showed a friendly feeling for them, and
declared that he could and would find them out. He said that a law was
made rendering it a crime for any one to help them (the outlaws), and
that he would make it a crime for any one to aid the police against the
Kelly gang. The women, who were listening to what Kelly was saying,
asked him to let Delaney off. After keeping Delaney in a state of
extreme terror for about half an hour, the outlaw made him promise
never again to seek admission into the police force, and finally said,
'I forgive you this time; but, mind you, be careful for the future.'
Byrne then produced a bottle of brandy, and offered some in a tumbler
to all adults there. Some accepted it. Byrne drank some himself, and
gave Delaney two-thirds of a tumbler, which he drank. Ned Kelly refused
to take any, and directed some of his boy prisoners to take my horse
and buggy into Mrs. Jones's yard, which they did.
"Ned Kelly and Byrne then went from the railway crossing to Mrs.
Jones's hotel, preceded by the majority of their male prisoners, and
I was with them. When we reached Mrs. Jones's there were, including
those who had just been taken over, about fifty persons in and about
the hotel, all of whom appeared to be prisoners of the gang. We were
allowed to go about in the hotel, except into one room, which the
outlaws used, and of which they kept the key, and we were allowed
outside, but were forbidden to leave the premises. Dan Kelly, a short
time after I entered the hotel, asked me to have a drink, and I drank
with him at the bar. I said to him that I had been told they had been
at Beechworth during the previous night, and had shot several police.
I asked him whether it was true. He replied that they had been near
Beechworth last night, and had done 'some shooting,' and that they had
burned the 'devils out,' alluding to police. Byrne came in the bar,
and, looking at Dan Kelly's glass, said, 'Be careful, old man.' Dan
Kelly replied, 'All right,' and poured water into his brandy. While
talking with Byrne and Dan Kelly, I expressed surprise at Glenrowan
being stuck up by them, and they said that they had come to Glenrowan
in order to wreck a special train of inspectors, police, and black
trackers, which would pass through Glenrowan for Beechworth, to take
up their trail from there. They said that they had ridden hard across
country, often being up to the saddle-girths in water, to get to
Glenrowan, and that they had had the line torn up at a dangerous part,
and were going to send the train and its occupants to h--l.
"About one o'clock I was standing in the yard of Jones's hotel,
thinking of the intentions of the gang, and I keenly felt that it was
my duty to do anything that I could to prevent the outrage, which the
outlaws had planned, from being accomplished, and I determined that I
would try to do so. While standing in the yard, Dan Kelly came out of
the hotel and asked me to go inside and have a dance. I said that I
could not dance in the boots which I had on. Ned Kelly then came out of
the hotel, and hearing me object to dance because of my boots, said,
'Come on; never mind your boots.' I said to him that it was awkward to
me to dance in those boots, as I was lame, but that I would dance with
pleasure if he would go to the school with me to get a pair of dancing
boots. It flashed across my mind that, in passing the Glenrowan police
barracks to reach my house, Bracken, the trooper stationed there, might
see us, and would be able to give an alarm. I knew that Bracken had
been stationed at Greta, and felt sure that he would recognize Ned
Kelly. He (Ned Kelly) said that he would go, and we were getting ready,
when Dan Kelly interfered, and said that Ned had better stay behind,
and let him or Byrne go with me. Some one else also urged Ned Kelly not
to go away, and said that my house was near the police barracks. Ned
Kelly turned to me, and asked if it was. I said, 'Yes, we shall have
to pass the barracks. I had forgotten that.' He then said that he would
not go, and I went into the hotel, and danced with Dan Kelly.
"After we had finished dancing, Ned Kelly said that he would go down to
the police barracks and bring Bracken, and Reynolds, the postmaster,
up to Jones's. I laughed and said to him that I would rather he did
it than I, and asked to be allowed to accompany him when he went, and
to take home my wife, sister, and child. He gave me no reply. The
intention to do something to baffle the murderous designs of the gang
grew on me, and I resolved to do my utmost to gain the confidence of
the outlaws, and to make them believe me to be a sympathizer with them.
I saw clearly that unless I succeeded in doing this, I should not
be able to get their permission to go home with my wife, child, and
sister, and consequently should not be able to do anything to prevent
the destruction of the special train and its occupants, by giving
information to the police in Benalla, which I purposed doing if I could
induce the outlaws to allow me and mine to go home. The outlaws kept a
very sharp watch on their prisoners without seeming to do so.
"About three o'clock in the afternoon Ned and Dan Kelly caused several
of their prisoners to engage in jumping, and in the hop, step, and
jump. Ned Kelly joined with them, and used a revolver in each hand
as weights. After the jumping was concluded, I left Jones's and went
to Mrs. Stanistreet's house to see my wife and sister. They came out
to meet me, and noticing the red llama scarf wrapped round my sister
caused me to think, 'What a splendid danger signal that would make.'
The idea of stopping the train by means of it then entered my mind, and
made me still more anxious for liberty. I went with my wife and sister
into Mr. Stanistreet's house, and saw Hart lying down on a sofa. He had
three loaded guns by his side. He complained to me of having swollen
and painful feet, caused, he said, by not having had his boots off for
several days and nights. I advised him to bathe them in hot water, and
asked for some for him. It was brought, and he followed my advice.
"Shortly after, Mr. Stanistreet and I were walking about at the back
of his house, and Mr. Stanistreet expressed a wish that an alarm could
be given. Mrs. Stanistreet came out to us, and I asked them if they
thought it would be wrong to break a promise given to the outlaws. They
said it would not. I then asked Mr. Stanistreet if the outlaws had
taken his revolver from him. He said they had not. I saw what use this
fact could be made of by me in my efforts to gain the confidence of the
outlaws, and to make them believe that they could safely allow me to go
home. I said to Mr. and Mrs. Stanistreet that we had better go inside,
for I was afraid of being suspected by the gang if they saw us in
private conversation, and we did so. I do not know whether Mr. and Mrs.
Stanistreet suspected the use I intended making of my liberty if I got
it; but afterwards I heard Mrs. Stanistreet saying to Ned Kelly that he
ought to allow me to take home my sister, who was in delicate health.
"I was sitting in Mr. Stanistreet's when Dan Kelly came in, inquiring
for a parcel in a small bag, which he had lost. He seemed very anxious
about it, and examined the house throughout in search of it. He could
not find it, and went to McDonald's hotel to see if it was there. He
came back unsuccessful, and I went to Jones's with him, and he searched
there, but failed to find it. When he gave up searching for it, I
requested him to tell Ned that I wanted to speak to him. I was near
the door of Jones's kitchen then. He went into the hotel and brought
Ned Kelly out, and I told him that Mr. Stanistreet possessed a loaded
revolver from the railway department, and advised them for their safety
to obtain it, as some one might get it and do them an injury. They
thanked me, and I perceived that I had in a great measure obtained
their confidence by telling them this.
"About dusk I heard Ned Kelly saying to Mrs. Jones (they were standing
between the hotel and the kitchen, which was a detached building) that
he was going down soon to the police barracks to capture Bracken, and
that he was going to take her daughter down to call him out. Mrs.
Jones asked him not to take her. Ned Kelly said that he did not intend
to shoot Bracken, and that her daughter must go. I advanced to them,
and said to Ned Kelly that I thought it would be better for him to
take Dave Mortimer, my brother-in-law, to call Bracken out, because
Bracken knew his voice well, and by hearing it would suspect nothing.
Ned Kelly, after a pause, said that he would do so. He then went to
Mrs. Jones's stable, and I followed him, and asked if he would allow
me to take my party home when he went down for Bracken; and I assured
him that he had no cause for fearing me, as I was with him heart and
soul. He replied, 'I know that, and can see it,' and he acceded to
my request. I went over to Mrs. Stanistreet's and brought my wife and
sister to Mrs. Jones's, and took them into the kitchen. Ned Kelly said
that we must wait till he was ready to go. I found, on going back to
Jones's, that a log fire had been made on the Wangaratta side of the
hotel yard, and that many of the prisoners of the gang were standing
around it.
"It was then dark. Other prisoners were in the hotel, and the outlaws
encouraged them to amuse themselves by playing cards. I waited with
my wife and sister in Jones's kitchen for, I believe, two or three
hours, before Ned Kelly directed me to put my horse into the buggy. He
and Byrne then went into the room which they had reserved for their
own use. I drove to the front of Jones's hotel, and put my wife and
sister and Alec Reynolds, the son of the postmaster at Glenrowan, who
was about seven years of age, into the buggy. Ned Kelly directed me to
take the little boy with us. We were kept waiting in front of the hotel
about an hour. Ned Kelly then came to us on horse-back, and told me to
drive on.
"It was then, I believe, about ten o'clock. As we got into the
road, I found that we were accompanied by Ned Kelly, Byrne, and my
brother-in-law, each on horse-back, and by a Mr. E. Reynolds and R.
Gibbins on foot, both of whom resided with Mr. Reynolds, the Glenrowan
postmaster. On the road down, Ned Kelly said that he was going to
fill the ruts around with the fat carcases of the police. The outlaws
each had a light-coloured overcoat on, and I was amazed at the bulky
appearance which they presented. I had then no knowledge that the
outlaws possessed iron armour. Each one carried a bundle in front of
him, and in one hand a gun or a rifle.
"We reached the barracks, and were directed by Ned Kelly to halt about
twenty yards distant from the front door of the building. Ned Kelly
got off his horse, and fastened him to a fence near, ordering my
brother-in-law to do the same, and he did so. Kelly then ordered him to
advance to the barracks' door and knock, which he did. Ned Kelly got
behind an angle of the walls, and levelled his rifle either at Dave
Mortimer, or at the door. No reply came to the knocking or calling,
though they were often and loudly repeated at Ned Kelly's whispered
command. When I saw Kelly level his rifle, I told my party to get out
of the buggy, which they did, and I advanced to my horse's head, for
I thought Kelly might fire. I was then about seven or eight yards
from Kelly. No result being produced by either knocking or calling,
Ned Kelly left his position and advanced to Byrne, directing me, in an
undertone, to call Mortimer away, which I did, and he came. Byrne, who
had remained near us, and Ned Kelly, then spoke to one another, and
Kelly took Alec Reynolds, the postmaster's son, and Mr. E. Reynolds,
and passed with them into Reynolds's yard.
"We neither saw nor heard anything for, I think, more than an hour,
when Ned Kelly appeared, having Bracken, E. Reynolds, and Bracken's
horse with him. Kelly stopped when he reached us, and ordered Bracken
to mount the horse brought round, and Bracken did so. Ned Kelly put a
halter on the horse, which he kept hold of, saying, 'I can't trust you
with the bridle, Bracken.' Bracken said to Ned Kelly that had he not
been ill in bed all day he (Kelly) would not have taken him easily,
and that if the horse he was on was what it used to be, it would take
more than Ned Kelly to keep him a prisoner. Ned Kelly and Byrne mounted
their horses, and I and my party got into the buggy.
"It was then, I believe, between eleven and twelve o'clock. Ned Kelly
then said I could go home and take my party with me. He directed us to
'go quietly to bed, and not to dream too loud,' and intimated that if I
acted otherwise we would get shot, as one of them would be down at our
place during the night to see that we were all right. I then left them
and drove home, distant from the barracks one or two hundred yards,
leaving the outlaws and their captives ready to start back to the
railway station. As soon as we were out of hearing of the outlaws, I
announced to my wife and sister my intention to go to Benalla and give
information as to the intentions and whereabouts of the outlaws. They
both anxiously and earnestly opposed my purpose, saying that it was not
at all likely that we should be allowed to come home unless some of the
agents of the gang were watching; that I should not be able to reach
Benalla, as I should be shot on the road by spies, and that, even if I
succeeded, we should be hunted out and shot.
"While the discussion was going on, and supper was being got ready, I
quietly prepared everything, including the red llama scarf, candle,
and matches, to go to Benalla, intending to keep as close to the
railway line as I could, in case of the special coming before I could
reach there. I declared to my wife that I did not intend to go by the
road--that I meant to keep as close to the line as possible in order
to be safer. At last my sister gave way, but my wife worked herself
into such an excited and hysterical state, that she declared that she
would not leave the house--that if I would go, she would stay there,
and she, baby, and my sister would be murdered. I wanted to take them
to my mother-in-law's farm, about one-third of a mile from our place,
for safety, while I was away. At length Mrs. Curnow consented to go to
her mother's to obtain advice, and, as we were momentarily expecting
the promised visit from one of the gang, I left the doors unlocked, and
wrote a note, leaving it on the table, stating that we were gone to
Mrs. Mortimer's to obtain medicine, as Miss Curnow was taken ill. My
sister wore her red llama scarf, at my request. When we got there Mrs.
Curnow was exceedingly anxious to get home again, and would not stay
there, and we went back. I succeeded in persuading Mrs. Curnow to go to
bed; and my sister and I told her I had given up my project.
"My sister engaged my wife's attention while I went out to harness my
horse to go, for I could not rest, and felt that I must perform what
was clearly my duty. I heard the train coming in the distance as I was
harnessing the horse, and I immediately caught up the candle, scarf,
and matches, and ran down the line to meet the train. I ran on until
I got to where I could see straight before me some distance along the
line, and where those in the train would be able to see the danger
signal. I then lit the candle and held it behind the red scarf.
"As the guard's van got opposite me I caught sight of the guard, who
shouted, 'What's the matter?' I yelled, 'The Kellys,' and the pilot
engine then stopped a little past me, and the guard jumped down. I
told the guard of the line being torn up just beyond the station, and
of the Kelly gang lying in wait at the station for the special train
of police. He said a special train was behind him, and he would go on
to the station and then pull up. I cried, 'No, no! don't you do that,
or you will get shot.' He then said that he would go back and stop the
special which was coming on. He asked me who I was, and I told him I
was the school teacher there, and requested him not to divulge who it
was that stopped and warned him, as I was doing it at the risk of my
life. He promised to keep my name secret. He asked me to jump in the
van, but I declined, as my wife and sister were without protection.
The pilot engine whistled several times while I was talking with the
guard.
"The pilot went back, and I hastened home, and found Mrs. Curnow had
been almost insane while I was stopping the train, and had been made
worse by the whistling of the pilot engine. She would not leave the
house after I had stopped the train, and we blew out the lights to seem
to be in bed. My sister hid the red scarf and my wet clothes, and we
were going to deny that it was I who had stopped the train, if one of
the outlaws came down to us.
"After the first volleys had been fired, I, with an old man who lived
opposite me, went up to Jones's to ascertain who were victorious, but
we were ordered back by the police, and we returned home. While I was
away my sister and wife had a terrible fright through Mr. Rawlings, who
had accompanied the police, coming down to the school. They thought
that he was Ned Kelly when he asked for the door to be opened. When I
reached home I found Mr. Rawlings there. He asked me to draw a plan
of Mrs. Jones's house, which I partly did; but, on hearing the train
returning from Benalla, he hurried out, and stopping it, he got into
it. During the Sunday afternoon I had heard Mr. Stanistreet ask Ned
Kelly to allow the rails torn up to be replaced, and he pointed out
to Ned Kelly the sacrifice of innocent lives which would ensue if the
Monday morning's passenger train was wrecked. The outlaw refused to
allow it to be done. In speaking of and to one another the outlaws had
assumed names.
"In the _Argus_ report (May 16th) of James Reardon's evidence, given
before the Police Commission at Glenrowan, it is stated that James
Reardon said he told me that 'the line was broken,' and that he also
told me 'how the train could be stopped.' Mr. Reardon is labouring
under a wrong impression. I am positive that he did not tell me how
the train could be stopped. Stopping the train, nor how to stop it,
was not mentioned to me by any one. Of this I am absolutely certain. I
have been informed that an impression prevails that it was in my power,
before the outlaws stuck up Glenrowan, to have furnished information
to the authorities relating to the Kelly gang or their friends. Others
assert that I was employed by the authorities to obtain information.
I desire to emphatically state that this impression and assertion are
both false.
"The outlaws were perfectly sober. One of them, I think Byrne, lay down
on the bed about twelve o'clock in the day, and had a sleep, but the
others were quite sober."