1 September 1911
A NARRATIVE OF DEATH
There was a glint of sunshine abroad next day, and the general aspect of the place was much less dreary. Inside the cottage of the ex-licensee of the Glenrowan Inn-as it was known of old-there was nothing of brightness. The old woman was able to breathe more easily, but she was very weak. In time, however, she found speech to continue her narrative of death and desolation:-
"Let me begin by saying that I was between two fires there," she said weakly. The police were suspicious of me, because they believed I assisted the outlaws. I did not. The Kellys halted me because they believed I gave the police information about them. I got nothing but abuse and mischief from both sides. And I never had anything to do with either. That is the truth.
"I well remember Kelly coming to my place that dreadful night. It was raining, and very wet. He took me and my dear little girl away, and locked my two little boys up in a room by themselves. He made me turn the key-said he would shoot me if I refused to do everything that he told me. I begged him to lock myself and my daughter in my own room, but he wouldn't.
"He took me and my little girl-she was 15 then-together with seven men, over to the station. These were the men who were to take up the line and wreck the train that was coming up with the police from Melbourne. Kelly said to me, "I'll show you a sight now! I'll kill all your-traps!" Then they went away up the line towards Wangaratta. My daughter saw them pulling up the railway line, but I did not.
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