Herald (11)
The Herald continued with its reports of the KellyGang and Glenrowan.
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LATEST POLICE TELEGRAMS
The following telegram has been received by the Chief Commissioner this morning.
BENALLA, 12.30
No truth in the rumour about Steele I have heard from him half an hour since. There is a deal of ill blood stirring, and I cannot at present reduce the strength of the force stationed here.
JOHN SADLEIR, Superintendent of Police. It may be mentioned that there was no intention on the part of the authorities to at present remove any of the police from the neighbourhood, even prior to the receipt of Mr Sadleir’s telegram.
THE SCENE AT GRETA - THREATS OF REVENGE
BENALLA, This Day
The scene at Greta when the charred remains of Hart and Dan Kelly were carried in by their friends was perfectly indescribable. The people seemed to flock from the gum trees. There were some of the worst looking people there I ever saw in my life. The two bodies were carried into Mrs Skillion’s hut.
AMIDST THE WAILING AND GROANING of over 200 people. They were laid down on the table side-by-side - a dreadful sight. Their friends rushed the hut to catch a glimpse of them but Mrs Skillion took out a gun and
THREATENED TO BLOW OUT THE BRAINS of the first person that entered the house without her permission. He then allowed only three at a time to enter, and after they had remained only sufficient time to walk round table and look at the bodies they were turned out again. The first who went in where two girls and in old men a relative of Hart's. He cried like a child. Then Tom Lloyd and Quinn went in. They looked at the bodies for a moment, and then
TOM LLOYD TOOK HOLD OF KATE KELLY’S HAND AND, LIFTING HIS RIGHT ARM TO HEAVEN, SWORE A MOST DREADFUL OATH THAT HE WOULD NEVER LEAVE THEIR DEATHS UNAVENGED. All day long scenes like these continued. Drink was brought over from Mrs O'Brien's Hotel, and they were all more or less in a state of intoxication and dangerously inclined. Lloyd seemed to be the most sober of the lot, though he was drunk enough. He went out into the clearing at the back of the hut with Mrs Skillion, and kept in conversation for a long time. A number of papers were passed between them both then Lloyd got on his horse and rode off to Benalla he
CAME TO BEG THE BODY OF BYRNE. Of course this was denied him until after the magisterial inquiry had been held, and he hung about the police station attempting to enter into conversation with every constable he could. He kept appealing to their good nature, and asking them not to be too hard. He was in a state of the greatest anxiety to know
WHAT THE POLICE WERE GOING TO DO NEXT, and seemed to be afraid that he and some others would be arrested as sympathisers. “What are you going to do with us now, Mr Kelly?" he asked of the constable there, "Oh I don't know, Tom; you had better keep out of the way and behave yourself." "Oh! for God’s sake don't interfere with us; we have done you no harm. Be satisfied with the work you have already done and
LEAVE US AND THE POOR GIRLS IN PEACE; OUR LOAD IS HARD TO BEAR." Tears actually started out of his eyes when he spoke. To look at the man then and to see him at Mrs Skillion’s hut when he swore to be avenged, an ordinary observer would be puzzled to judge his character. To a close observer, however, it is apparent that he is a mere boaster. Another person, who seem to act under instructions from Mrs Skillion was
WILD WRIGHT. He stayed Mrs MacDonnell’s hotel, at Glenrowan, all Monday night and all day yesterday. He sat up with her in the bar and conversed in earnest whispers with her all Tuesday night. They had a number of papers spread out on the counter, which they were constantly and ranging in rearranging. Wright kept writing memoranda on the back of telegraph forms; he covered over twelve slips of paper yesterday afternoon.
HE COUNTERFEITED DRUNKENNESS, would insist on singing rough songs, and made himself a nuisance to everybody. When expostulated with he retorted in such apparent good humour that was impossible to get out of temper with him. When the Kellys came to Glenrowan they put the horses in the stable at MacDonnell's hotel, and left them there. They remained there until a late hour on Tuesday without having any food or drink. Mrs MacDonnell left after the outlaws were captured, and did not turn up again until yesterday, some hours before Ned Kelly was taken to Melbourne .
NED KELLY CONVERSED VERY FREELY with Constable Kelly. He owned to shooting Fitzpatrick in the wrist, and said he was sorry the bullets did not go into his head. He also said that he came to Glenrowan to wreck the train. He said "I expected the special train to come up on Monday morning or Sunday night." He pulled up the rails in a place where the train would go over a culvert. He then became obstinate and refused to continue. From some other remarks that fell from his lips, and from circumstances that subsequently transpired there is no doubt that the gang intended to put on their armour, walk deliberately up to the train when it fell off the line, and
EVERY LIVING SOUL THAT ESCAPED FROM THE RUINS THEY WOULD HAVE SHOT DEAD like dogs, and left not one alive. By this means they could have got rid of the bulk of the police from Benalla. They would then go to that place and stick up one of the banks there. Cased in their bullet-proof armour they could
WALK INTO A BANK AND TAKE WHAT THEY WANTED. They could have gone to the police station and taken possession of it. Then, with the railway lines torn up, and telegraph wires cut, they could have held the town for a week. It was always Ned Kelly's ambition to stick up Benalla. When spoken to on the subject, he scowled fiercely. "Yes," he said, "and if you had not sent up that pilot engine, and that -- -- -- -- schoolmaster hadn't given the train warning of danger,
YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN UP A TREE." Byrne had a number of nicknames. He was the idol of the girls of the district, who said he was such a handsome, and such a mild young gentleman that no one would believe him to be capable of interfering with anybody. One anecdote will suffice to show how mild he was. Some time ago before he took to bushranging, he was running some horses to the stockyard at the Woolshed. The yard was old, and the fence was broken. He got his sister to help him, and to stand in one of the gaps in the fence. This is a time-honoured customer with the people of the district, who will go into a stockyard and chase the horses round themselves, but they use the women to fill up the gaps in the fence. One of the horses was a very wild one, and this one Byrne wanted to catch. It rushed straight at his sister, and, knocking her aside, escaped from the yard. Byrne was foaming with rage; he
RUSHED AT HIS SISTER, SEIZED HER BY THE HAIR of the head with one hand, and struck her over the face with the heavy bridle he carried. He cut her face terribly, and knocked her eye out. So much for the ladies man. He was called Sweet Birdie. The police, now the affair is all over, conduct matters much more secretly then they did when necessity required it of them. After the magisterial inquiry had been held on Byrne’s body yesterday, the friends of the deceased were extremely anxious to get possession of it. They came to the station and the courthouse, and begged hard to be allowed to bury it at Greta. They were put off from time to time, and after dark.
THE BODY WAS SNEAKED OUT by the back way from the police camp, and, with only an undertaker’s man and a well armed constable, was taken to the Benalla Cemetery , and privately buried in a snug corner there. The constable and the undertaker marched back again, saluted each other and went home. It was a great disappointment to the friends. They appeared to be in doubt as to whether they would be allowed to keep the other bodies or not. There are a number of them here making anxious inquiries. A number of miscellaneous articles belonging to the outlaws were brought into Benalla last night, amongst which were a keg of powder and some fuse. The wildest rumours are current here. It is believed that another gang of bushrangers will soon be out headed by Dick Hart.
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