1995, 228 p.
As a Melburnian, it’s difficult to get past the image of Redmond Barry as a strong, imperious philanthropist. He is still very much a visible presence: a large statue of him rears up in front of the State Library (one of his projects); his name adorns prominent buildings at the University of Melbourne (another of his projects), and of course his reputation has been forever intertwined with that of Ned Kelly, whom he sentenced to death. This is the stuff of myth-making: the pompous Supreme Court judge cursed by the fearless bushranger “I will see you there when I go” (or words to that effect), only to die 12 days later of “congestion of the lungs and a carbuncle in the neck”. [ Can you die of carbuncle? Dear Lord, if I should die, please let it NOT be of a carbuncle!]
Ann Galbally’s biography covers, of course, his whole life but my interest is mainly on his early years in Port Phillip and his relationship with Judge Willis. Barry was born into the Anglo-Irish ascendancy. The peace that followed the Napoleonic Wars cruelled his chances for a military career, so he entered the law instead only to find the Bar crowded with other young men who had made the same vocational choice. When his father died in 1838, he emigrated to Sydney where there was less competition.
On the journey out, he embarked on a relationship with a Mrs Scott- and worse still, continued it when he reached Sydney. News of the affair reached the ears of Governor Gipps, and he was awarded few government briefs as a result. He continued to suffer from disapprobation even after leaving Sydney for the small town of Melbourne because, although he socialized and got on well with Superintendent La Trobe, the more prominent legal positions were in the gift of Gipps rather than La Trobe. His unorthodox relationships with married women seem to be an ongoing theme: in 1846 he took up with a Mrs Louisa Barrow, with whom he had four children, in a public, lifelong relationship that was never regularized by marriage.
Barry was only 26 when he arrived in Melbourne, and Galbally paints an engaging picture of Barry socializing with the other predominantly-Irish members of the Bar: his good friends Sewell, Foster and Stawell and fellow Trinity-college and King’s Inn graduates Brewster and Croke. Although a member of the Melbourne Club and welcomed to all the vice-regal social occasions, he had little capital behind him and thus was not caught up in the land speculation of the early 1840s and “perhaps for this reason his managed to maintain civilized relations with Willis for longer than most of the legal fraternity” (Galbally p. 49).
Not that Barry found Willis easy. His diary records a succession of entries where he “argued with Willis“, “fought with Willis” or had a “blow-up with Willis who threatened to suspend me“. He greeted the news of Willis’ suspension with relief “Supreme Court Willis suspended + removed, Te Deum Laudamus” (24 June 1843).
In spite of this, Barry did not seem to have been exposed to the same personal insults or attacks that other barristers and officers of the court suffered. Willis seemed to greet his appointment as the Commissioner for the Court of Requests in January 1843 with genuine approval, and at times their sparring in court (complete with historical allusions and Latin jests) seemed to be equally relished by them both. Although Barry had a reputation as a bit of a dandy who wore an old-fashioned Beau Brummel style suit, obviously Judge Willis did not take exception to this as much as he did the trimmed moustaches of Edward Sewell, Barry’s friend and erstwhile housemate.
Unlike Judge Willis, Barry was noted for his “dignified deportment and invincible politeness” (Garryowen p. 867). Galbally captures this quality well. Against such a man, Willis’ own failings of temper and demeanour would have been even more marked.
Ann Galbally Redmond Barry: An Anglo-Irish Australian