Lowe

Latest on Lowe: An original copy of his diary which included the activities at Glenrowan
was offered on E-bay for A$10,000 but did not attract any bidders.

The following eye-witness account is by John Lowe who was a prisoner in the Inn.
At the end of this text is a small copy of the original hand written copy this text came from.

I have been asked many times, and by many people, to write my version of the capture of the Kelly Gang, but have always refused. What I write will be facts, and not in any way exaggerated. I was there from start to finish and for some time after. As I am now 77 years of age, and it is getting near to 60 years ago there will be a lot I have forgot, but there is some I never will.

I was not twenty of age at the time, and lived with my Pa at Benalla had a horse and dray of my own and was engaged to go to Glenrowan to cart metal for the main street in Benalla. We pitched camp about two chains from Mrs Jones' hotel, and about three chains from the railway station - almost in a direct line. We were there about a month when on a Saturday night we were having a bit of jollification, and we were late before we went to bed. It was about 12 o'clock. (The occasion was one of our mates had a female visitor from Benalla with him in his tent, and we were doing all we could to annoy him, and having some fun.)

My tent was on the railway fence, the others at the back of it between one and two o'clock, I was awakened by a man at my tent door who ordered me to get up. I told him to go to "....", as I thought it was one of my men keeping up the joke. Then a voice from the back of the tent said: "Put a bullet through him, Straughan, if he resists." He then said: "We are Police. You had better up," which I did.

When I got outside I recognized both of them, as I knew them. Before they went out, Kelly asked me if I knew them. I said I did and had often seen them in Benalla. He then told me they had shot Sherrit near Beechworth and that there would be a train load of police along at any moment and he wanted men to help him pull up the line so as to wreck the train.

He cautioned me very severely and assured me he would do me no harm as long as I obeyed him. He then asked how many men were in the other tents. I told him. He said: "Tell them to get out," which I did. He was with me at each tent door and had a look in at the last tent. They refused to move.

There was some argument and Piazza the boss, was one of them. He lifted his gun, which he kept beside his bed and sat up, threatening to shoot. Kelly ripped the tent door open and said:

"You ......! You lift a gun to me," and fired his rifle at Piazza. As he fired, Piazza knocked the gun with his arm and the charge went down beside his leg and through his bunk into the ground. And the visitor from Benalla gave a terrible scream as she was in the bunk with another Italian.

Kelly then turned on me for telling him in the first place there was two in the tent and not letting him know there was a female there, and he was very annoyed, but I excused myself by saying she was not a regular. All out, he asked all hands did they know him when the female said: "I know you, Ned Kelly," and put her arms around his neck and attempted to kiss him, to which he objected. He then repeated what he told me re what he wanted and the police and the train and further cautioned us and that he would not harm us.

He thought we were line repairers and that we knew all about the job. We told him we were not and had no tools that would do the job. We then went over to the linemen's toolshed and directed him where the repairers lived about a quarter mile up He then went and brought two or three of them, and their families also while Hart stayed with us. We then proceeded along the line - the whole of us, women and all, and did the job. We took up a length of rails, sleepers and all, and slid it down a steep bank into a creek - went into the bush and broke saplings and branches to cover the break. At this point we all had a great chance to get away. I, myself, was fully 100 yards off the railway fence, and heard others breaking limbs and talking further out still.

The job done, we then returned to the station. It was then pretty near clear day. It being Sunday morning there was no one about, and we were all expecting the train, so we lolled about for some time, and as near as I can remember, went over to the hotel. And by this time Dan Kelly and Joe Byrnes had turned up. From where we did not know, but we all thought from Beechworth where Sherrit was shot. We stone men were allowed to go to our tents to get out breakfast. What the rest did, I don't remember, but I think Mrs Jones was the Good Samaritan, as they were not allowed to leave the hotel. As the morning rolled on, we wandered about like lost sheep, looking for the expected train to come while the Gang was busy gathering up their horses and accoutrements, armour, etc which they brought from across the line and put it in a back room, leaving the horses in the back yard, and paying full attention to any stragglers who came along and made them prisoners. They gave all of us a lot of liberty, and we were allowed to roam about freely, up and down to the railway gates, looking for the train, putting our ears to the rails to see if we could hear it. On one occasion we were pretty all of us down at the gates when three or four lads came along, walking from Greta about four miles distant. They came over as they had done once or twice before for the purpose of going into the hills kangaroos and wallibe (sic) hunting of which there were a fair few at the time. The attraction was that they had very good dogs that very rarely missed their game. But circumstances altered cases for the day. There was no hunting.

One or two of them was named Delaney. Their father was a blacksmith at Greta, and once lived in Benalla. Them and I went to school together. When Ned Kelly asked them their names, it caused a great sensation in the crowd, as it was a fact that, some time previously, the elder Delaney and his sister were going into Wangaratta in a spring cart and horse. On the way they overtook Kelly (who) at the time had his body armour on and I think we were fully convinced that he intended to carry out his threat. Delaney was crying and I am pretty certain he was not the only one. We all pleaded hard for him, especially the women. When Kelly gave in and took his revolver back and further cautioned him and the rest of us never to do anything for a policeman. It was now about dinnertime. We went to our tents. The remainder to the hotel, still wondering what had happened to the train, for by this time there was a fair number of us gathered in. Shortly after dinner, amongst others, there came Mr. Curnow, the schoolteacher with his wife and two small children in a buggy out for a drive for the evening. They were gathered in with the rest of us, far against their wish. We put in the evening, some playing cards, others up at the yard jumping and various other games of skill, revolvers being used for weights to jump with, and on the whole we passed the time real well.

During Sunday sometime, Ned and one of his mates went to the police station, which was about a mile on the Benalla side, and brought back the man in charge. His name, I think, was Bracken.

Night was drawing near and we were all very anxious to see the end of it. No train. No Police. We were curious to know what was going to happen. Different ones pleaded to get away, but there was no hope. The school teacher was the only one. He pleaded hard with Kelly and said his wife and children had been very poorly of late and he begged to get them home. In the end he succeeded and was cautioned not to leave his house or communicate with anyone, and that one of them would go to watch him, and if he moved out would be shot dead His school was about one mile on the Benalla side of Glenrowan and opposite the police station. As you read further on, you will see the mistake Kelly made in letting him go as it upset his (Kelly's) plans for further on, which as far as I know they did not divulge to anyone, although during the time we were in their company, they spoke very freely of the past as to how they lived; evaded the police; how many times they were very close to them and not seen. (They) said they were getting gold and was well satisfied, but the police would not leave them alone.

Now we were all looking for sleep. The hours seemed very long, and as near as I can remember, it was somewhere about 2 o'clock when we heard the train a good distance away which caused a bit of uneasiness amongst us as we were all expecting to see it go through, did not think for a moment it would stop, expecting it to go on to where we made the break and make a terrible smash and very likely kill every person in it as it was at the most dangerous part of the line, where they would go through a small cutting around a sharp curve down hill and a drop of 15 or 20 ft off an embankment into a dry creek where we had previously put the set of rails.

When we heard a whistle also the train stop for a short time, then start again and come along slowly, this set us all thinking we could not account for the stopping as was well beat to know what was going to happen next. We were all on the move. The Kellys busy getting their armour on as we thought to go away to where we made the break in the line, but we found out when we got free how it was that the train stopped.

The schoolteacher which the Kellys had let go home in the early part of the night was the cause. He was a brave man and took a risk of his life to save the lives of those on the train. There is not many men that would have done it especially after the cautioning and threats he got when he left us. I believe he left his wife and children in the house alone; took an ordinary house lantern, a piece of red cloth when he heard the train coming and he was the cause of the stopping.

The train, to our surprise, came to a standstill at the platform. We heard the dropping of truck doors; unloading of horses; men talking and things were all of a bustle for a short time. We could see objects moving - it was a fairly clear night - no moon. A few of us went out the back door of the pub, and was watching their movements at the Station.

We saw a number of police coming towards us as though they were making for the pub. They had come only a few yards when the Kellys, who had been standing at the end of the house nearest to Wangaratta, opened fire on them, which they returned and made for whatever cover they could get. There was a few washaways and culverts over them, close by, and the police rushed for them.

We prisoners who was having a look on from the back got very rough orders to go inside if we did not to get shot. After that we saw very little, but heard a very large amount of shooting. I think it was Superintendent Hare that got shot in the wrist in the first volley which was fired from the east end of the house, and not off the front verandah which the paper's pictures showed at the time.) Also there was only three of the gang there. The fourth I don't know where he was. There was then a bit of a lull for a short time, no shooting. I take it the police were getting around the house, and it was then about 3 o'clock, Monday morning, and from that time onward there was plenty of shooting. There was more police arrived. I was told after there was over 60 men there.

The shooting from inside seemed to be at intervals of from 10 to 15 minutes and there was a good volley each time. We could hear the bullets hit the house and through the walls. Those through the roof made quite a different sound. At times we use to roam from room to room. Our main room was on the southeast corner of the building, close to the bar. The Kellys' room was at the back of us, but none of us went in there after the shooting started. We used to do so before, as I remember them showing us their armour which they kept in there.

When each volley started, we all laid flat on the floor till it was over. There was somewhere about 40 of us in the house at the time, but I would say about half of them got away during the early shooting, 3 or 4 of them getting wounded, one fatally. Some rushed out, but came back in again being afraid of getting shot by the police.

Joe Byrne, one of the gang, was shot early in the piece. Some say he was getting a drink at the bar, and that the whole of them was drinking and that was their downfall, but they were wrong, for there was very little or no drinking by them of the prisoners the whole of the time. It was true that he fell at the bar counter end in a passage. We had to step over him when going from room to room as no one took the trouble to move him.

Daylight came and we could see the police moving about at some distance away. We used to look out the windows, which by this time were all shattered. One of my workmates and I opened a door and held out a white cloth and a bullet came through the panel of the door beside us. We got back very quickly. At times we would call out to cease firing and that there was no one in the place but civilians, women and children, but the firing kept going, perhaps not so frequent until I think very near nine o'clock when we heard a voice from outside that all inside were to come out in five minutes.

We made a rush and was scattering a bit when we got orders from a large number of police that were at our tents to come this way, which we did. And when about 20 yards from them, got orders to kneel down. The next order was to lay down. When a big burly policeman cries out, "We will shoot this lot first. They are all sympathizers." When about a dozen or more leveled their rifles on us I thought the end had come. We lay there a while. When we were called up one at a time for examination, they held some of us for a time. I got passed very easy and was told by one that knew me that my horse was full of bullets as he had been galloping about all night through the firing, but I found him alright, later. There was four horses shot dead in the encounter and I got 7/6 per head from the police to burn them.

Now we were free and we found out Ned was taken earlier in the morning. He must have been well outside the police cordon as he was taken some 4 or 5 chains from the house. It was supposed he was making his way back to his mates. Byrne, we knew, was left in the house, dead. Dan and Hart I am certain were also dead for as I mentioned before, they were in the adjoining room to us and in the early part of the night we could distinctly hear them shooting at intervals until near or after daylight. After that, their shooting ceased and it is my opinion, also some of my mates, that long before we left that they had shot themselves because in the early part we could hear them talking and moving about, but later we heard nothing and as we had not the liberty to go in, we were afraid.

When we got clear of the police, we were told to go over to the train and we would get something to eat there, which the most of us did, and I think did justice to. I believe it was the tucker they had with them.

Then for the next hour or so we watched them still firing on the house, which was a wreck and well riddled with bullets and it was said by many that it was a great pity it was not left standing as Mrs. Jones (the owner) would have made a pot of money out of those who came later to see it.

At this stage a priest came along in a train and was making straight for the house with, I believe, the full intention of going in. When he got fairly near, he was ordered back and he returned. Also Kate Kelly attempted to go, but was stopped.

The came the setting fire to the house. A policeman rushed one end with a bundle of straw under very heavy firing by the others and set it alight. Before it got a fair hold, the crowd, of whom there was by this time a big number as they had been coming from everywhere all the morning, made for the house with the priest leading, and he was the first man in.

They carried Byrne out and made through to the kitchen, which was detached. In an end room they found laying on a bed an old linerepairer, I think his name was Sherry , seriously wounded. We carried him out to the back and I, with others, watched him die in a very short time. By this time, the place was well alight and burning well. When it had got well burnt and cooled down a bit, all hands were busy looking around. When in the room where we had left Dan and Hart, two bodies were seen laying side by side. One with his head towards the north and the other to the south, very badly burnt and well beyond recognition.

Now, as I have often since heard it said, and also have read about it in different papers, that Dan Kelly was still alive. I say without the slightest doubt that they are wrong as there was some 40-odd as prisoners in the place and I myself knew everyone of them, also we were all well known to one another is it likely that if any two of us were missing that some of us would not miss them and make known the fact? There is nothing surer than that those two bodies were no other but Kelly and Hart.

At About four o'clock that evening, I went in home at Benalla by train and had my mind made up to hunt up some of my pals and tell them all about it, but I was pretty well worn out by the time I was ready to go when the neighbours all around gathered to our place. There was never such numbers of visitors there before. They asked me all kinds of questions, and as a matter of fact, talked me to sleep on the chair when my mother had to hunt them and made me go to bed. I think I had had just quite enough.

The next day I went back to Glenrowan to my job, which took some five or six weeks to finish. While there, the number of people that came to see the place was enormous. On every train there was a lot. As many as 50, getting off, some of them besides others that came by road. It was the same every day for about three weeks when it began to ease off and up to the time we left there were still a few that came along. It was surprising to see the various things they would take away as momentos; bits of iron, saucepans, pots, dishes, pieces of half-burnt furniture, legs and sides of bedsteads, etc. But the most valued was the bullet that was cut out of a tree, and there was a great number of them. Every tree had some in. Some well up in the limbs where you had a good climb to reach them. I myself got up to two shillings apiece for them. Others, I believe, got more. On the platform was a great place to sell them to passengers as they were traveling through. But there was a time come when they got scarce and hard to get. There was a line repairer. He had a single barrel gun. He made bullets with a hammer, put them in the gun, fired them into a tree. He told me he got 1/6 for them easy.

For 2 or 3 weeks after we were very much pestered with the visitors. They were not content to walk round and see for themselves, but was very fond of coming to our camp, especially at meal times, often a dozen or more at a time, asking kinds of questions and a lot we could not answer.

The detectives paid us great attention after the affair was over. They were very inquisitive. I don't know what their object was, other than to get a case against Mrs. Jones for harboring the Kellys, which they afterwards did.

One or two of them rode back with me up the hill in the dray when they thought from what I was saying was very much against them and their mates. When one of them advised me to be more careful as to how I expressed myself, it might cause me trouble. I might tell you I had no time for them after they had the night's shooting at me and perhaps I may have spoken too plainly.

Some time later, Mrs. Jones' case came on at Wangaratta. I, with some 25 others, was subpoenaed as witness, and as far as I can remember we were mostly all in her favour. As the first few witnesses were called, they asked for their expenses, but were refused and told they had to travel 25 miles to defend their Crown. They were all from Glenrowan, which was about 12 miles. When my turn came up, I asked my expenses as I had a fair bit up my sleeve on the others for, by that time, I had shifted to another job four mile the other side of Benalla. I got them. I think I was the only one.

I am now at the end of my story which I have written is quite fresh in my memory, but there is a lot more partly forgotten which would have made interesting reading. Fifty-nine years is a long time to think back to. I should have written it years ago.

 

A copy of the original text.