The unfortunate man Sherry died soon after being rescued from the burning building. Ned Kelly was brought on to Benalla by the evening train, and lodged in the lock-up, to await the inquest to be held in the morning.
The statement of Constable Bracken is to the effect that the first intimation of the presence of the gang at Glenrowan was on Sunday night at eleven o'clock, when he was bailed up by Ned Kelly. He had been confined to bed through illness. Whilst a prisoner in the hotel he courageously managed to steal the key of the front door, which enabled him to escape in time to warn the police that the outlaws were in the house.
Mr. John Stanistreet, station-master at Glenrowan, states—"About three o'clock on Sunday morning a knock came to my door, at the gatehouse, within one hundred yards of the station, on the Melbourne side. I jumped up, and thinking it was some one wanting to get through the gates in a hurry, I commenced to dress as soon as possible. I half dressed, and went to the door. Just when I got there it was burst in, but previous to that there was some impatient talk, which caused me to dress quickly. When the door was burst in I asked, 'What is that for?' or 'Who are you?' The answer was, 'I am Ned Kelly.' I then saw a man, clad in an overcoat, standing in the doorway. He pushed me into my bedroom, where my wife and some of the children were in bed. There were two girls and one infant besides my wife. Then he said to me, 'You have to come with me and take up the rails.' 'Wait,' said I, 'until I dress.' He said, 'Yes,' and I completed my dressing and followed him out of the house.
"On the line there were seven or eight men standing at the gate which crosses the line to Mrs. Jones's hotel, the Glenrowan Inn. He said, 'You direct those men how to raise some of the rails, as we expect a special train very soon.' I objected, saying, 'I know nothing about lifting rails off the line; the only persons who understand it are the repairers; they live outside and along the line.' Ned Kelly then went into Reardon the plate-layer's house. Reardon lives outside the line on the Greta side, about a quarter of a mile away. Steve Hart was present, and Kelly left us in his charge. When Kelly went away Hart gave me a prod with his rifle in the side, saying, 'You get the tools out that are necessary to raise those rails.' I said, 'I have not the key of the chest;' and he said, 'Break the lock.' He told one of the men to do so, and on arriving at the station he got one of the men to do it. This was in the little back shed used as a store-room, between the station and the gatehouse. The tools were thrown out, and in the meantime Reardon and Sullivan, the line-repairers, arrived with Ned Kelly. These two men and Ned proceeded down the line towards Wangaratta to lift the rails. We were still under Steve Hart, and we remained where we were over two hours, and then Ned Kelly and the repairers returned. Ned then inquired about the signalling of trains, as to how I stopped a train with the signal-lights. I said, '"White is right, red is wrong, and green is gently, come along."' He said, 'There is a special train coming; you give no signals.' Speaking to Hart he said, 'Watch his countenance, and if he gives any signal, shoot him.' He then marched us into my residence, and left us there under Steve Hart. There were there then about seventeen altogether, other persons subsequently being placed in my house also. There were present Reardon's family, the Ryan family, Cameron (son of the gatekeeper on the other line), Sullivan, line-repairer, and others whom I do not remember. We were locked up all day on Sunday, and were only allowed out under surveillance. The women were permitted to go to Jones's Hotel about five o'clock, and shortly afterwards all the men but me and my family went away. Steve Hart stopped with us, and during the night Dan Kelly relieved Hart, and he was afterwards relieved by Byrne.
"Just before the special train arrived I was ordered to the hotel by Hart, who was on and off duty all the time, to follow him to Jones's, and not signal the train. I went into the back kitchen, where Mrs. Jones and daughter, aged about fourteen, and two younger children were. There was also a man there named Neil M'Kew. By this time the train had arrived, and firing was going on furiously. I did not see Ned Kelly in the room. I with others stood in the chimney. I did not hear any remark passed by any of the gang, and they disappeared. A ball passed through the hut, and grazed Miss Jane Jones, fourteen years of age, on the forehead. The girl said, 'I'm shot,' and turned to me. I saw the blood and told her it was nothing. The mother commenced to cry, and soon afterwards I left the kitchen, and went into the back-yard. I then saw three of the gang there standing behind the chimney. They had their rifles in their hands. One of them said, I don't know which, 'If you go out you'll be shot.' I walked straight down the path towards the house. The firing was then going on all round me, but I was uninjured. One of the police very nearly shot me, but I said 'Station-master' when he challenged me. I forgot to mention that during Sunday afternoon Steve Hart demanded and received my revolver."
Robert Gibbons states—"I am a farmer, and have recently been stopping at Glenrowan with Mr. Reynolds. I came to the railway-station about eight o'clock on Sunday night with Mr. Reynolds to ask about his little boy, who had not been home. When we knocked at the door, Mrs. Stanistreet told us that Mr. Hart was inside, and that they had been stuck up ever since three o'clock on Sunday morning. We followed her in, and saw Steve Hart. She told him who we were, and he then put his fire-arms down, giving us to understand that we were not to go out. We remained there about two hours, when Ned Kelly came, and Hart ordered us to come out of the room. Ned Kelly then told us that we would all have to go down to the police-barracks with him. He kept us waiting there for about two hours, he having gone for Bracken. He returned to us with Bracken. He kept us waiting there about an hour and a half. Byrne at that time was with us. There he told me and Mr. Reynolds we would have to go to Jones's Hotel. We went to the hotel, and he told us to get into the bar parlour. It was then about ten o'clock on Sunday night, and we remained there until the train came. During that time the Kellys were going about the place making themselves quite jolly. Byrne was in charge of the back-door, the other door being locked. A little after three o'clock the train came. Prior to that the gang drank quite freely with the others. When the train arrived, Ned came and said, 'You are not to whisper a word that has been said here about me. If I hear of any one doing so I will shoot you.' He went to the door of the room and said, 'Here she comes,' and then the gang busied themselves in making preparations, but for what I did not know. They came back and said the first man who left the room in which we were would be shot. Two of them then mounted their horses, and rode away, but I could not tell which two. They came back in about ten minutes' time. When they came back, I saw that Dan was one of the two who had gone away. Dan went into a back room. All four in turn went into the same room. Very soon afterwards a hurried move was made, and firing commenced. There must have been about forty men, women, and children in the house then. The women and children commenced to shriek, and Mrs. Jones's eldest daughter was wounded on the side of the head, and the eldest boy shot in the thigh. The bullets rattled through the side of the house, and we laid down. We were packed so close that we had to lie on our sides. It was those who laid next the door who prompted us to come out, and we did so because we feared that the bullets would come through faster than ever. We also feared a cannon would be used; and about ten o'clock we ran out. I heard some of them say that Byrne, or one of the gang, was lying dead in the back. I know that Dan was alive when I left."
Arthur Loftus Mauld Steele states—"I am a sergeant of police at Wangaratta. I arrived here with five men about five a.m. We were at once challenged by police, and answered, 'Wangaratta police.' My men were then distributed around the hut, and I got to the tree near the back door of the hut. There was no firing then. A woman and child came to the back-door screaming, and I told the woman if she ran in quick she would not be molested. A man then came to the back-door, and I asked him to throw up his arms or I would fire on him. He was only about twenty-five yards distant. The man stooped and ran towards the stables and I fired. He then turned and ran back to the house, and I fired again. I am certain I hit him with the second shot, as he screamed and fell against the door. There was then some hot firing, and the bullets whistled all around me. The firing was kept up for some time, and some of the men behind me called out. It was then breaking day. I looked round, and saw a man stalking down. I thought he was a black-fellow, and called on the others to be careful. I then saw him present a revolver and fire at the police. I could see the bullets hitting him, and staggering him for a moment, with no further effect. I therefore thought he had armour on, and determined to have a close shot at him. I ran towards him, and when within ten yards of him he saw me, and turned round to fire at me. I then aimed at his legs, and he staggered, but he still tried to aim at me. I then fired the second barrel on the legs. We were then in the open. He fell, and cried, 'I'm done, I'm done.' I ran up to him then, and he again tried to shoot me, but I caught the revolver and pushed it down. I was behind him, and he could not turn on me quick enough to shoot me. Whilst I held the revolver away from me he fired the revolver. Senior-constable Kelly then came up and assisted me to secure him. So did O'Dwyer, and a host of others at once followed. We only found one revolver on him, and a bag of ammunition. We divested him of his armour. I was strained after the scuffle which ensued."
Senior-constable Kelly states—"When we started from the platform we ran down towards the railway-gates, hearing that the gang were in Jones's public-house. The men at that time had not sufficient time to scatter, and all made towards the hotel. As we approached, some one came out on the verandah and fired on us. Mr. Superintendent Hare, with Mr. Rawlings, a volunteer from Benalla, was close to me. Mr. Hare said, 'I am shot in the wrist,' but he continued to fire. We sought cover, and Hare said to me, 'For God's sake, surround the house, and don't let them escape.' He then fired again, and gave the gun to Rawlings. He then left, saying, 'Kelly, place the men under cover,' and I placed the men around the house. Mr. O'Connor and his trackers took up a position in front of the hotel. I then went round towards the back of the premises. Constable Arthur was with me, and we crawled about 400 yards. In this way we got to within about fifty yards of the house, at the back of a tree. In the scrub I found a revolving rifle covered with blood, and a padded skull-cap." [This was Ned Kelly's. Being wounded in the thumb, he could not use his rifle.] "We kept strict watch, and fired upon any one who attempted to leave the hut. There were four horses saddled and tied up to the back-door. These we shot in order to prevent the sudden escape of the gang. When we left the station we met Constable Bracken, who told us that the gang were at Jones's. He, I believe, jumped on one of our horses, and rode off to Benalla to get further assistance, and at half-past six o'clock he returned with the Wangaratta police, Sergeant Steele being at their head. We continued to fire, and at about eight o'clock, so far as I can remember, Ned Kelly made his appearance under the brow of the hill, 300 yards from the hut. He deliberately fired at me. I returned the fire, and my men closed around him, Sergeant Steele being behind him, myself on one side, and Dowsett, the railway-guard, on the other. About ten rifles were brought to bear on him, and we hit him several times. His heavy armour, however, protected him, and he walked boldly to and fro. Near a fallen tree he fell, and we rushed forward. I caught him by the head as Steele grasped his hand, in which he still held his revolver. He fired it, but did no damage. His armour was taken off, and he was carried to the railway-station, where he was searched, but only threepence was found on him, a silver Geneva watch, and a lot of ammunition. I asked him to tell me where Sergeant Kennedy's watch was, and he said, 'I cannot tell you; I would not like to tell you about it.' He also said, 'I had to shoot Sergeant Kennedy and Scanlan for my own safety. I cannot tell you any more.' We then gave him over to the medical gentleman and Mr. Sadleir."
During the forenoon Colonel Anderson received information from Captain Standish that in order to dislodge the two remaining members of the gang without endangering any further life, the hotel would have to be blown down, and as the best means for accomplishing that object, a small cannon would probably be required. The Commandant, telegraphing for further particulars in order to guide him in the selection of a gun, received from Superintendent Sadleir the following reply—"Glenrowan.—Weather-board, brick chimneys, slab kitchen. The difficulty we feel is that our shots have no effect on the corner, and there are so many windows that we should be under fire all the day. We must get the gun before night, or rush the place." Immediately upon the receipt of this message, Colonel Anderson arranged for the supply of a twelve-pound Armstrong gun, which was quickly placed upon a truck at the Spencer-street station. A special train was soon in readiness, and at twenty minutes past two it departed, carrying the formidable-looking weapon, a detachment of the Garrison Artillery under Lieutenant Nicholson, and the Commandant himself. The train, in order to land the gun at the scene of action while it was yet daylight, started at a pre-arranged rate of forty miles per hour. Seymour was reached in due average time, but before the soldiers had time to step upon the platform, came the not altogether unexpected, though disappointing, news that the gun was no longer required, as the whole of the outlaws had been taken. The train proceeded no further, and the gun, officers, and men returned by the first passenger goods-train to Melbourne.
On Saturday night, at six o'clock, the Chief Secretary was informed by telegram of the murder at Sebastopol, and he at once communicated with Captain Standish, Chief Commissioner of Police, with whom he consulted. Seeing the gravity of the situation, and remembering how previously the gang had always managed to obtain a good start of the police after the commission of their outrages, it was decided to despatch a special train to Beechworth at once. The Minister of Railways was informed of that determination, and without delay a train was got in readiness. Superintendent Hare, who was at Benalla, was telegraphed to, and instructed to proceed to Beechworth, and the black trackers, under Lieutenant O'Connor, who were at Essendon, where they were staying previously to their return to Queensland, were also apprised of the fact that they were required. As their engagement to the Victorian Government had expired, Captain Standish telegraphed to the Commissioner of Police at Brisbane, and requested that they might be allowed to remain, but that permission was refused. Mr. Ramsay, however, would not allow the Government to be so curtly treated, and he communicated with Mr. Palmer, Chief Secretary of Queensland, and at two o'clock on Sunday morning he obtained the required permit.