State Library Victoria > La Trobe Journal

No 73 Autumn 2004


Shane Carmody
Through Green Tinted Glasses: Barry, Kelly and Irish Sentiment

Sentiment is a poor substitute for intellectual honesty and sincerity.
Francis Shaw SJ


In 1965 the Reverend Francis Shaw SJ, Professor of Early and Medieval Irish at University College, Dublin, was invited by the editor of Studies to contribute to a special edition commemorating the fiftieth anniversary of the Easter Uprising. His article, nearly twice as long as that requested, was not used - being judged too controversial for the celebratory theme. Two years after his death, and in the wake of the events of Bloody Sunday, the article was published. What may have been controversial in 1966 was prophetic by 1972. Shaw's careful exposé of the bloody themes in the philosophy of Padraic Pearse and the uncritical worship of ancient heroes like Cú Chulainn began a long revision in Irish historiography of the link between present ugly realities and the imagined heroic past.1
Roy Foster is a recent contributor to that revision, and in the introduction to his book of essays, Paddy and Mr Punch: Connections in Irish and English History, he notes that the most vigorous challenge to the revision comes from emigré historians:
…with emigrant communities everywhere, the memory of homeland has to be kept in aspic. The perspective over one's shoulder must remain identical to that recorded by the parting glance - even if that moment happened two or more generations back, and even if the remembered impression is spectacularly contradicted by the mother country itself on return visits. In a similar way ownership of received historical memory is fiercely guarded.2
Guarding historical memory is a strong theme in the retelling of the Kelly story, and no more than in the trial before Sir Redmond Barry. For many writers and historians the confrontation is emblematic, symbolic and profound. Redmond Barry represents the Irish-Protestant, landed ascendancy: Ned Kelly the Irish-Catholic dispossessed, with the overlay of a convict exile. Even the publishers‘ graphic designers have caught on - each chapter in Ian Jones’ account of Ned Kelly's life is headed by a shamrock, while the Barry Coat of Arms heads each chapter of Ann Galbally's biography of Sir Redmond.3
Viewed through green tinted glasses, Ned Kelly can be seen playing a familiar role in a long Irish saga: he who against all odds raises revolt at an unjust oppressor, the glory of the cause and the magnificence of the heroic death excusing the blood shed along the way - precisely the hero of the canonical Irish history challenged by Francis Shaw. Such a telling clouds the judgement of the place of the Irish in the establishment of Victoria, and if we listen to other voices a different story is heard.


On the evening of Saturday the 22nd of July 1854 a group of Melbourne's prominent Irishmen met at the Criterion Hotel to welcome back from exile William Smith O‘Brien, John Martin and Kevin O’Doherty. The three leaders of the Irish rebellion of 1848 had won a partial reprieve from
their sentence of transportation for life to Van Diemen's Land and were making their way back to Europe.
Feted to a dinner and long speeches, the heroes were welcomed by the Chairman for the evening and member of the Legislative Council, John O‘Shanassy, to the’…first free soil they had trodden on since their partial restoration to freedom…‘ O’Shanassy had come to the Port Phillip District in 1839, and after failing in his attempt at farming returned to his family trade as a draper, profiting from the rapid growth in the new Colony following the discovery of gold. O‘Brien responded to O’Shanassy's welcome with a long address recounting his continuing faith in the Irish cause and concluding with a toast to the prosperity of Victoria. In reply O'Shanassy said:
The future constitution of Victoria though not quite pure is at all events so good as to enable us to live happy under it. We have secured here what Ireland has been deprived of from 1792 down to the present hour - the blessing of self-government.
After several more speeches O‘Brien proposed the health of the Chairman, to which O’Shanassy responded:
I left home when only twenty years of age and with small means but in despite of opposition which I am sorry to say I had met with because I am an Irishman, I have risen because I have a young and stout heart. I had never taken part in politics in Ireland but I know in this country Irishmen are not divided.4
The editor of the Melbourne Morning Herald was concerned at the length to which the Argus had reported the dinner, and the potential message of a Colony seeking independence that this might send to Home. Under his banner of Impartial not Neutral he set out to reassure English readers that in elevating Smith O‘Brien from rebel to hero the speakers on the evening had simply taken’…the last resort of the panegyrist when all they could plead for their hero was the goodness of his intentions. ’In his view there was little to justify the‘…solid pudding and empty praise so bountifully bestowed.’5
As William Smith O'Brien was preparing to return from exile, his old ally in Young Ireland, Charles Gavan Duffy, was growing weary of the struggle to hold together a League of North and South in Westminster in pursuit of Irish land reform. Duffy's conviction that land reform was an answer to the Irish question was born from the squalor and starvation of the tenant classes during the famine and the opportunity presented by the economic ruin of the landlords. In a pamphlet presented by Duffy to the Melbourne Public Library in 1874, and most probably written by him in 1848, he expounded his Proposal for a Small Proprietors Society of Ireland. Noting that a ‘…yeoman proprietary has long been recognized as the chief social want of Ireland’ he described how bankrupted estates could be held in trust and purchased by tenants paying their rent as instalments. In this way the land would be owned by those who worked it and
…if the amount of labour and capital which is flowing from the country was turned back to the heart of the system and made circulate; and if some substantial success was attained, as a beginning, and men saw their way to a secure enjoyment of the fruits of their industry, we are confident the people of Ireland are able and willing to emulate at home all these works of enterprise in which they have so largely shared in other countries.6
Despite endorsements from John Stuart Mill and John Bright, Duffy's dream foundered on too many ifs, and the caution of a Catholic hierarchy nervous of their hard-won political freedoms. Duffy stayed long enough in the House of Commons to join the debate over the Constitution Bills for the colonies of Victoria and New South Wales. He formed part of the last line of opposition to the property qualifications for membership of the Victorian parliament

Caricature of Sir Charles Gavan Duffy. Wood engraving. 31 January 1874. Weekly Times.


Nicholas Caire, photographer. A Selector's Hut in Gippsland. [ca. 1886] Albumen silver photograph. H2471. La Trobe Picture Collection.

which he informed the house would ‘…throw the whole government of the Colony into the hands of a small class, against whom there was a violent and popular prejudice.’7
In November 1855 Duffy set sail with his family for a new life in Australia. Welcomed to Melbourne by a deputation led by John O'Shanassy and feted to yet another grand dinner by Melbourne's leading Irishmen, Duffy told his enthusiastic audience that
I am still an Irish rebel to the backbone and to the spinal marrow…I would not be tempted by all the gold in Australia to repudiate my share in a struggle which was as just and holy a one as ever was lost or won in this world. But having been a good Irishman in my old home would not, I conceive, be a bad security for my becoming a good Australian in my new one8.
After exploring his options for a career as a lawyer in Melbourne and considering Sydney as a place to settle, Duffy gave way to the ‘…old passion for public life…’ and accepted support for contesting a seat in the newly formed Legislative Assembly of Victoria. This required meeting the property qualification - £5,000 was quickly raised for him through appeals to the Irish of Victoria and New South Wales. Duffy accepted this support as a ‘…noble retaining fee…’, and at the inevitable dinner at which the title deeds of a house and the balance of the money was presented to him, he expressed his appetite for the ‘…new social experiment of adopting whatever is best in the habits of kindred nations and rejecting what has proved dangerous and deleterious.’ Unfortunately he was forced to spend the rest of his speech defending himself against attacks made by his opponents under the banner of No Popery - the rebel was forced in his new land to fight old battles.9
Duffy's first act in the new House was to successfully sponsor a bill abolishing the property qualification, but it was his work on a more radical distribution of real estate that defined his political career. Given responsibility for the Lands Department in the first and second O'Shanassy ministries, Duffy successfully sponsored a Land Act in 1862 that challenged the squatter's control of Victoria's agricultural lands, and in theory allowed a large class of small farmers to take up holdings, eventually securing title to their own domain. The Act was a response to popular agitation for land reform which had led to a riot and attempted storming of parliament in 1856. It was promoted by Duffy in Australia and in England as the economic and moral base of a new society, and he returned again and again in his speeches to the purity of the vision, despite the largely successful undermining of the Act by established squatters, and the spectacular lack of success by so many selectors.10
Thus in an election speech in Kyneton in 1868 to voters in the seat of Dalhousie, Duffy insisted that ‘…the large runs must be cut up; the right of actual settlement must be extended over all the agricultural lands of the Colony; and the rents of selectors must be credited, as it was in the land act of ’62, as instalments of the purchase money.’ And again on the hustings in 1872 in a speech in Castlemaine, this time as Prime Minister of Victoria fighting to keep his Ministry alive in the superheated sectarian bitterness unleashed by the Education Act, he returned to the theme:
A community where property is widely diffused amongst the class that actually till the land is of all others the community most contented, most orderly, and where manners are simplest and morals purest - and that class of cultivators obtain most from the soil and increase most rapidly the savings which constitute the wealth of a nation.11
Near the end of his parliamentary career, contesting in 1877 what would be his last seat in Parliament, Duffy drew a picture of pastoral peace for the electors of North Gippsland:
I had the inexpressible pleasure of being assured by legions of prosperous farmers, who possess the soil, that they obtained their homesteads under what has been named the Duffy Land Act. Day after day as I pursued my journey, district after district of the finest land I ever saw, exhibited the best crop that land can rear - a crop of independent and prosperous yeomanry, who declared that it was I who had planted them there. All the accustomed toil of a long journey was repaid by the picture I had imagined long ago realised under my eyes, the picture of happy homes possessed by a free, manly, yeoman proprietary.12
If Victoria was in Charles Gavan Duffy's view a ‘Small Proprietor's Society’ writ large, then it was also the best example for Ireland. In 1865 on his first visit back to England Duffy told guests at a grand dinner that drew together the remnants of the Irish National party of 1848 and the Irish Tenant Right Party of 1852 that
…all I had asked for the Irish farmer had been attained for the Irish immigrant in Australia. All that I asked for the Irish nation - to rule and possess without external interference, was also attained in Australia - a testimony surely that our claims in Ireland were not unjust or extravagant.
And in a speech in 1870 at the Polytechnic Hall in Melbourne entitled Why is Ireland Poor and Discontented? he drew this analogy:
If a parliament composed entirely of squatters, with an army at their command, had to frame the land laws of this country it is probable that facilities of settlement on squatters runs would not be extensive. This is precisely what happened in Ireland.13
There is a strange lack of irony in Duffy's contemporary speeches and later reflections. Faced with the threat of transportation to Australia in 1848 he voluntarily chose exile in 1855. Rejecting imperial politics in 1855 he gladly entered the colonial parliament in 1856. Opposed to the property qualifications in the Victorian Constitution Bill as a member of the House of Commons, he freely accepted a huge gift to meet this requirement, and having successfully moved for its abolition, kept the benefit.14
The lack of irony shows a supreme confidence in his abilities and his causes. Duffy had no need for sentiment in drawing the link between the desire for Irish land reform and that reform achieved in Victoria, and while his use of the term ‘yeoman’ reveals an English notion of independent land-holders, he was quick to use his Irish rebel reputation to appeal to his constituency. Patrick O‘Farrell, commenting on the role that the Land Acts played in giving rise to the Kelly gang, has noted that Duffy ’…was the centre and foundation on which were based illusory hopes of Arcadia for the Irish in Victoria: the more extravagant the hopes, the more confident the expectations, the more bitter the disillusionment.' Subsequent research by Douglas Morrissey has shown that such disillusionment was not a prime cause of the Kelly outbreak, rather a narrow culture of stock theft. Yet there is still a link - it was easier to make ready money stealing stock than to break your pick or bruise your back clearing the land.15
Sir Charles Gavan Duffy left the colony as soon as he could without risk to his parliamentary pension of £1000 per annum, and settled in the South of France to pursue from a warm climate the cold Irish cause. He is perhaps the archetypical Australian radical-politician - one who begins with the intention of doing good for others and ends doing quite well for himself.

The Bushranging tragedy: portraits of the four constables and the two Kellys. Shows Constables Lonigan, Scanlan and Mclntyre, Sergeant Kennedy, and Ned and Dan Kelly. Print: wood engraving. 23 November 1878. Australasian Sketcher A/S23/11/78/129. La Trobe Picture Collection.



The Land Act gave Constable Thomas McIntyre the two happiest years of his police experience. Transferred in 1875 to Alexandra in the Upper Goulburn Police District, he found very little crime to occupy his attention, instead the duties assigned to police were
…principally those of a Crown Lands Bailiff…an honorary position that gave us and our horses plenty of exercise in general supervision of Crown Lands and valuing the improvements made by the Crown tenants who were applying for their lease.16
McIntyre was ultimately the sole survivor of Stringybark Creek, famously described in the long coda to Ned Kelly's account of that event as one of the
…big ugly fat-necked wombat headed big bellied magpie legged narrow hipped splaw-footed sons of Irish Bailiffs or english landlords which is better known as Officers of Justice or Victorian Police…17
As the sole survivor McIntyre was and is plagued by guilt. His courage was questioned at the time and historians have scoured prosecution briefs, accounts of his evidence, and his memoirs for inconsistencies that might support Kelly's claim of self-defence. McIntyre's defence is his memoir, written at the time of the South African War, and therefore twenty years after the events it describes. It was never published and exists in a typescript in the archives of the Victoria Police Historical Unit. The memoir is really a testament and McIntyre begins with part of the oath taken by a witness - ‘The evidence you shall give in this case shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth’. Commenting on this, he craves from the reader an indulgence not allowed in a court of justice
…in which a distinction is made between what a man knows and what he believes. On this occasion I would like to state what I believe as well as what I know, our actions are so much controlled by what we believe that it is unnecessary for me to comment on that subject.18
McIntyre is acutely aware of being not just a witness, but one of the accused. Sent with Kelly to Beechworth for the arraignment, McIntyre was lodged for his own protection in the same gaol that confined Ned. As a courtesy McIntyre was given the largest cell, which happened to be adjacent to the scaffold and the one reserved for condemned prisoners before execution
…Kelly was confined in one of the lower cells on the other side of the corridor almost directly opposite to me, under the very shadow of the gallows which was literally between us. Was this more than accident that we two men the only survivors of the eight who met in the Wombat forest should be so peculiarly placed? I recognised that it was not alone Ned Kelly who had to stand his trial but that I also had to stand my trial the charge against me being a moral one…want of courage.19
McIntyre joined the Victorian Police on the 23rd of December 1869. His personnel file reveals that he was born in 1846, that he was a member of the Church of England, and that his prior occupation had been as a member of the Royal Irish Constabulary. In his memoir McIntyre says he spent three years in Ireland as a policeman before migrating to New South Wales, where he worked as a school teacher before joining the Police.20
McIntyre makes much of the fact that he and his colleagues had very little experience with firearms. Along with Sergeant Kennedy, who had served in the Dublin Police, he had no firearms training in Ireland and the absence of effective training in Victoria was noted in the Royal Commission that followed the Kelly Outbreak. Police were expected to be civil and polite upholders of the law, fulfilling a wide range of roles from guarding the Public Library to providing directions and aid to travellers. Reflecting on this, McIntyre questioned whether ‘…Governments depend too much on the moral effect of their Constabulary.’21
An example of McIntyre's moral effectiveness is recorded in the pages of the Melbourne Punch. While stationed in Swan Hill in 1872, McIntyre rescued a young girl from an attack by a vicious pig. Punch recorded in verse how McIntyre pelted the pig with bricks before catching it by its tail. For Punch McIntyre's skill with pigs was due to his being Irish:
Since no peeler's worth a candle
Hailing from the Emerald Isle,
Who has not been used to handle
This domestic animyle22
Faced in Kelly with a much more dangerous foe than a rogue pig, McIntyre sat in the little camp at Stringybark Creek as bait in a trap waiting for the return of Sergeant Kennedy and Trooper Scanlon. Thomas Lonigan lay dead on the ground, Dan Kelly, Steve Hart and Joe Byrne had taken up positions around the camp, and Ned Kelly engaged McIntyre in conversation. In the course of this, McIntyre made a ‘strong appeal’ on behalf Kennedy and Scanlon:
I told him that they were both countrymen and co-religionists of his own. That one of them was the father of a large family, and that the other was a good-natured inoffensive man liked by everybody. This statement that they were countrymen of Kelly's was not strictly true, for Kelly was Australian born, but his father came from Tipperary and his mother from Armagh, and I thought he might be possessed of some of that patriotic-religious feeling which is such a bond of sympathy amongst the Irish people. My opinion is that he possessed none of this feeling. On the question of religion I believe he was apathetic, and like a great many young bushmen he prided himself more on his Australian birth than he did upon his extraction from any particular race. A favourite expression of his was: - ‘I will let them see what one native can do.’23
Here is a powerful contrast. McIntyre, the Irish born, Protestant policeman failed to convince Kelly in an appeal to Irish Catholic sentiment. Kelly, the Australian-born son of an Irish convict, later justified his actions in the Jerilderie Letter in a barely coherent appeal to a mythic Irish Catholic cause. McIntyre understood the power of myth. In a cool assessment of Kelly's enduring appeal he acknowledged that there were some people who believed Kelly
…and who looked upon him as an exponent of truth, a defender of virtue and a hero who was driven to crime by the tyranny of the police. The press records of the Kelly gang in the Melbourne public library are very much mutilated and if the character and career of the outlaws depended upon tradition I imagine that in course of time Kelly would come to occupy a position in history similar to that occupied by Robin Hood…24


Peter Ryan, in a preface to the special edition of his pamphlet on the life of Redmond Barry, describes the preference for Kelly as hero as a perversion and one which ‘…betrays the corrosive envy, the black defeated nothingness that lie somewhere near the heart of our national character. The choice of Barrabas reveals more about the voters than about the candidate.’25 Like Pontius Pilate and Jesus of Nazareth, Redmond Barry and Ned Kelly had a famous conversation in the courtroom. As in that earlier trial the words of one have been given more notice than the words of the other - yet Barry's words reveal a consistency in his view of social order and social cohesion. In his address at the opening of the Circuit Court in Portland in 1852 at the very beginning of his judicial career, Barry reminded the jurymen that society was a Burkean contract of interlocking obligations and not
…a mere carnal aggregation of human beings employed in one absorbing pursuit of delving into the hills for ore, held together by the fragile bonds of occasional interest, a partnership of mutual distrust, to be dissolved at pleasure, or when the sordid object of its initiation has been accomplished.26
Barry returned to this theme in reminding Ned that in a new community where ‘…society is not bound together so closely as it should be…’ making heroes of criminals required society to condemn felons as beasts of the field with nowhere to lay their heads.27
Barry's use of biblical imagery emphasises the moral challenge posed to the new society by Ned Kelly. Barry is not looking backwards to Ireland, but looking forward to a new community and, in this purpose, he is closely aligned in his thinking to the more radical Charles Gavan Duffy. For Duffy, creating a class of independent, small farmers was a way to create a contented, orderly and moral community, while for Barry, provision of a free library would help achieve the same end. These common interests met in the Public Library where both Duffy and John O'Shanassy served terms as trustees - a small fact that underscores Barry's disinterest in sectarian or political differences when pursuing great projects of social improvement.

The trial of Edward Kelly, the bushranger. Print: wood engraving. 6 November 1880. Australasian Sketcher A/S06/11/80/289. La Trobe Picture Collection.

Barry's sense of the social purpose of the library is evident in many of his published utterances. In the preface to the Catalogue for the Melbourne Public Library of 1861, Barry praised Governor La Trobe for making provision for the Library and described him as being
Fully impressed with the importance of the influence likely to arise from voluntary adult mental improvement, as well as of the intellectual and moral elevation to be created by the cultivation of the works of standard authors…
And in explaining the policy of free, unimpeded access to the Library collections for all those over 14 years of age, Barry wrote:
Attention to the ordinary courtesies of life was all that was suggested; and it was hoped that by reposing in the visitors an honourable confidence, a taste of study might be encouraged in some and awakened in all…
Barry's passion for free access to knowledge for the purpose of self-improvement is given full voice and scriptural symbolism in his address at the opening of the Free Public Library of Ballarat East in 1869:
Prurient tempers may skulk to gloat in private, unobserved, over base and impure thoughts perpetuated by a prostitution of the talents destined one might imagine for a more decent use - but those who come here to read their own books, provided for them by the prudent dispensers of public funds, require no screen to hide their studies from the broad daylight of the public gaze.28
Shining light on sentiment in Victoria's history challenges our judgements of people in the past and challenges a continuing refrain in our political discourse. In Recollections of a Bleeding Heart, Don Watson gives an account of Prime Minister Keating's visit to Ireland. Watson recalls how Keating in a radio interview and a speech in his great-great grandfather's town of Tynagh in Galway, attributed his hatred of class distinction and his republicanism to his Irish, and specifically Irish Catholic, ancestry. Like Charles Gavan Duffy, Keating claimed his radicalism from Ireland, and like Duffy he gave voice to this in a political process conducted within the language and customs of a Westminster parliamentary tradition.29
Questioning Keating's sentimental attachment to Irish Catholic ancestry and a sentimental interpretation of Ned Kelly's trial before Redmond Barry does not reveal‘ black defeated nothingness’ feared by Peter Ryan. Instead it shows that sentiment allows the sober business of constitutional reform to be dressed in the bright clothes of Irish radicalism, and criminality to be disguised as Irish rebellion. Sentimentality represents a desire to be owned by another history and to attach ourselves to the romantic notion of an idealised home other than England, and in doing so it denies the many different Irish histories that have helped to form us. Ned Kelly, in myth and whatever reality we can interpret, represents one voice - John O'Shanassy, Charles Gavan Duffy, Thomas McIntyre and Redmond Barry represent others. Listening to these voices and reclaiming their stories from the mist of sentiment will help us understand the enduring significance of the institutions and the society that these Irishmen helped to build.


Francis Shaw, ‘The Canon of Irish History - A Challenge’, in Studies, Dublin, vol. 61, pp. 113 - 153, see especially the editor's introduction, pp. 113 - 114, and quotation from p. 119. For a recent critique of the influence of Shaw, see D. George Boyce, ‘1916, Interpreting the Rising’, in D. G. Boyce and A. Day, eds., The Making of Modern Irish History, London, Routledge, 1996, pp. 163 - 187, esp. pp. 178 - 182. I am indebted to Mr Paul Fox for drawing my attention to this and other references, and for offering helpful criticism in the writing of this article.


R.F. Foster, Paddy and Mr Punch: Connections in Irish and English History, London, Allen Lane, the Penguin Press, 1997, p. xiii.


Ian Jones, Ned Kelly A Short Life, Melbourne, Lothian, [1996] 2002; Ann Galbally, Redmond Barry: An Anglo Irish Australian, Melbourne University Press, 1995.


As reported in the Argus, Monday, 24 July 1854 - author's amendment to direct speech. I am indebted to Mr John Ireland for drawing my attention to this event.


Melbourne Morning Herald, Tuesday, 25 July 1854.


Proposal for Establishing a Small Proprietors Society of Ireland, no date, endorsed ‘Strictly Private’, part of a collection of pamphlets presented to the Melbourne Public Library by Sir Charles Gavan Duffy in 1874, pp. 4, 24, bound in Irish History Pamphlets, vol. 2. See also Cyril Pearl, The Three Lives of Gavan Duffy, Kensington, University of New South Wales Press, 1979, pp 133–134.


As quoted in Pearl, p. 153. See also Charles Gavan Duffy, My Life in Two Hemispheres, London, Fisher Unwin, 1898; reprinted in facsimile, Shannon, Irish University Press, 1968, vol. 2 pp. 99–100.


Charles Gavan Duffy, My Life, vol. 2, pp. 133–4.


Duffy, My Life, vol. 2, p 150. See also ‘Speech of C. Gavan Duffy Esq at Melbourne on the Presentation of a Property Qualification to Him August 20 1856’, Melbourne, Michael T. Gibson, 1856 pp. 7 - 8; bound in Victorian Pamphlets, SLV. vol. 132.


E. Doyle, ‘Sir Charles Gavan Duffy's Land Act 1862: Victoria through Irish Eyes’, in C. Kiernan, ed., Australia and Ireland: Bicentenary Essays 1788 - 1988, Dublin, Gil Macmillan, 1986, pp. 146 - 155. The consensus seems to be that the drafting of the Act was designed to allow Squatters to assume greater control while defusing the immediate demand for free selection. O‘Shanassy is given credit for this outcome while Duffy continued to argue for more liberal access.


The true issue submitted to the constituencies' Mr Charles Gavan Duffy's Speeches at the Dulhousie Election, Melbourne, S. V. Winter, 1868, p. 10, bound in Victorian Pamphlets, vol. 132. An Australian Policy' Speech by Charles Gavan Duffy Prime Minister of Victoria at Castlemainc March 20 1872, Melbourne, Sheffield and Knight, 1872, p. 10, bound in Victorian Pamphlets, SLV. vol. 96.


Sir Charles Gavan Duffy ‘The Opinion of the Country’ Speech at Sale 9 April 1877, Sale, Gippsland Mercury, 1877, p. 4; bound in Victorian Pamphlets, SLV. vol. 66.


Duffy, My Life… vol. 2, p. 267. Charles Gavan Duffy, Why is Ireland Poor and Discontented?, Melbourne, Stillwell and Knight, 1870, pp. 7–8; bound in Victorian Pamphlets, SLV. vol. 130.


For a fascinating account of the political motivations of Duffy, see C. Kiernan, ‘Charles Gavan Duffy and the Art of Living’, Irish Australian Studies: Papers delivered at the 5th Irish Australian Conference, Canberra, Australian National University, 1989, pp. 137 - 154. The article interprets an unpublished manuscript written by Duffy after he resigned from the Ministry in 1864.


Patrick O'Farrell, The Irish in Australia, Kensington, University of New South Wales Press, 1993, pp. 137–138. See Alex McDermott, ‘Who Said the Kelly Letters?’ Australian Historical Studies vol. 118, 2002, pp. 255 - 272, p. 256.


Thomas McIntyre, A True Narrative of the Kelly Gang by T. N McIntyre Sole Survivor of the Police Party Murderously Attacked by those Bushrangers in the Wombat Forest on the 26th October 1878, unpublished and undated manuscript, Victoria Police Archives. Citations are from a retyped copy.


MS 13361, ‘Jerilderie Letter’, La Trobe Australian Manuscripts Collection, SLV.


McIntyre, A True Narrative, p. 2.


McIntyre, p. 101.


Personnel File of Constable Thomas McIntyre held by Victoria Police Historical Unit; McIntyre, pp. 14,20.


See Robert Haldane, The People's Force, Melbourne University Press, 1986, pp. 100,109; McIntyre, p. 14.


‘The Peeler and the Pig’, Melbourne Punch, 28 March 1872, p. 98.


McIntyre, p. 23.


McIntyre, p.58.


Peter Ryan, Redmond Barry - A Colonial Life 1813 - 1880, Melbourne University Press, 1972, preface to the 1980 edition, p. 2.


Redmond Barry, Address of His Honour Mr Justice Barry, one of the Judges of the Supreme Court of the Colony of Victoria on the opening of the Circuit Court at Portland on June 15 1852, Melbourne, B. Lucas, 1852, p. 19; bound in Barry, ‘Lectures Etc.’, SLV, vol. 1.


The exchange between Ned Kelly and Redmond Barry has been reproduced many times - see Ian Jones, Ned Kelly, pp. 110–11.


Redmond Barry, Preface to the Catalogue of the Melbourne Public Library 1861, as reprinted in the Supplemented Catalogue of the Melbourne Public Library, Melbourne: John Ferris, 1865, pp. iii, iv. Redmond Barry, Address on the Opening of the Free Public Library of Ballarat East, Ballarat, The Ballarat Star, 1869, p. 15; bound in Barry, ‘Lectures Etc.’ vol. 2.


Don Watson, Recollections of a Bleeding Heart, Sydney, Knopff, 2002, pp. 422. In another passage Watson reflects on his discomfort that an accusation from Bronwyn Bishop comparing Keating with Ned Kelly might in fact be accurate - given Keating's occasional rages, his old-fashioned courtesy, his fanatic heart and his deep attachment to a received history of oppression (pp. 577–8). See also J. E. Parnaby, ‘Charles Gavan Duffy in Australia’ in O. MacDonagh, W.F.Mandle, and P. Travers, eds., Irish Culture and Nationalism 1750 - 1950, London, Macmillan, 1983, pp. 56 - 68.