A LARRIKIN PUSH DURING THE FIRST WORLD WAR - Paul Freestone - LIBERO Library ...
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A LARRIKIN PUSH DURING THE
FIRST WORLD WAR
Paul Freestone
CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ............................................................................................................... 4
INTRODUCTION ............................................................................................................................. 5
Ordering the 72s............................................................................................................................. 7
Redefining the Larrikin .................................................................................................................. 7
CHAPTER 1: THE HUNGRY 72 ................................................................................................... 12
Larrikin Inheritance ..................................................................................................................... 12
Larrikin Genealogy ...................................................................................................................... 13
Pushed Together .......................................................................................................................... 16
Manly Exercises........................................................................................................................... 18
Keeping the House ....................................................................................................................... 20
Reflections ................................................................................................................................... 21
CHAPTER 2 - THE BRUNSWICK ENLISTEE............................................................................. 23
Early Enlistment .......................................................................................................................... 23
Profiling the Brunswick Man ....................................................................................................... 25
Profiling the 72s ........................................................................................................................... 27
Reflections ................................................................................................................................... 29
CHAPTER 3 – LARRIKIN SOLDIERS ......................................................................................... 30
A Clean Record............................................................................................................................ 30
Invalided Home............................................................................................................................ 31
Combat Strain .............................................................................................................................. 34
Larrikin Soldiers .......................................................................................................................... 36
Reflections ................................................................................................................................... 40
CONCLUSION ................................................................................................................................ 42
2
REFERENCES ................................................................................................................................ 44
PRIMARY SOURCES ................................................................................................................ 44
SECONDARY SOURCES .......................................................................................................... 45
APPENDICIES ................................................................................................................................ 48
Appendix A: Larrikin Genealogy. ............................................................................................... 48
Appendix B: Hungry 72s Territory. ............................................................................................. 49
Appendix C: Hungry 72s Enlistees. ............................................................................................. 50
Appendix D: Photographs. ........................................................................................................... 51
Appendix E: Brunswick Honour Roll Database. ......................................................................... 54
Appendix F: Monthly National and Victorian First World War Enlistments 1914-1918............ 71
Appendix G: Monthly Brunswick First World War Enlistments 1914-1918. ............................. 72
Appendix H: Biography of Constable Barney Herbert ................................................................ 73
3
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The story of the Hungry 72 was a research thesis submitted to fulfil a Bachelor of Arts (Honours)
Degree at Monash University (2013). Unhindered by the requirements for a university submission, I
have subsequently altered the format of the thesis to include further research I undertook on the 72s
including a part of a database of the Brunswick First World War Honour Roll and a separately
submitted biography of Constable Barney Herbert, both of which appear in the appendices.
I wish to thank Dr Ruth Morgan, Dr Bain Attwood, and Dr Timothy Verhoeven (Monash
University) for their guidance during my Honours year, and Les Barnes, whose remembrances
inspired me to research the 72s. I also greatly appreciate the assistance provided to me by local
Brunswick historian, Laurie Cunningham, Dr Cheryl Griffin (Secretary of the Coburg Historical
Society), Tonya Lewis (Adult & Information Services Librarian, Moreland City Libraries), and
Francesca Folk-Scolaro (Brunswick History Group).
Thanks also go to the staff of the Monash University Library, Brunswick Town Hall and Public
Library, Public Records Office, Victoria (PROV), State Library of Victoria, National Library of
Australia, National Archives of Australia, and the Australian War Memorial, Canberra, who
unwittingly helped me with my research.
Cover image: a headline regarding the Hungry 72 from the Brunswick & Coburg Leader of 3
December 1915, p.1, and the attestation papers of 72s members William Patterson (ADFPR, 1892,
William Patterson, B2455, NAA, p.1) and Thomas Patterson (ADFPR, 4492, Thomas Patterson,
B2455, NAA, p.1).
4
INTRODUCTION
Jist to intrajuice me cobber, an’ ‘is name is Ginger Mick–
A rorty boy, a naughty boy, wiv rude ixpressions thick
In ‘is casu’l conversation, an’ the wicked sort o’face
That gives the sudden shudders to the lor-abidin race.
C.J. Dennis1
I n early November 1915, District Scoutmaster A.E. Ambry was finishing an evening meeting at the
rear of the Brunswick Town Hall, Victoria. Parade ended early when Ambry became aware that an
attack was imminent. One thirteen year old scout, Patrick Smith of West Brunswick, was still present
at ten o’clock when members of a local larrikin push, known as the Hungry 72, arrived at the meeting
room. A call rang out, ‘“Don’t be a _____ fool, Patterson! Don’t break the window”’, as the glass
shattered over young Smith who was standing nearby. Later, eight pieces were removed from his
eye.2
Two days later Constable Barney Herbert arrested Thomas Edward Patterson, William Patterson,
and Percy Holmes, who all denied breaking the window. The defendants were brought before a
magistrate who fined them each twenty shillings and two shillings cost or, somewhat ironically,
seventy-two hours imprisonment.3 According to local historian Les Barnes, the Hungry 72 were
notorious in Brunswick. Writing on the push during the 1980s and early 1990s, Barnes recalled that
‘the effect of their activities was sensational. They were blamed for every crime, every act of
violence’, and during the First World War a number of 72s enlisted, of which at least fourteen who
were killed.4 Barnes also suggested three factors brought the members together: a culture of larrikin
pushes, football, and the war itself.5
During the course of the war, Brunswick lost five hundred and thirteen men whose names adorn
the Memorial Foyer of the Town Hall alongside all men and women who enlisted from the suburb.6
1
Clarence James Dennis, C.J. Dennis: the complete Sentimental Bloke, ed. Neil James, Angus & Robertson,
Sydney, 2001, p.73.
2
Cited in 'Worse than the Bubonic Plague', Brunswick & Coburg Leader (BCL), 3 December 1915, p.1.
3
ibid.; ‘The Hungry Seventy-Two, Defiers of Police and Law’, Brunswick & Coburg Star, 26 November 1915,
p.4.
4
Les Barnes, 'Notes from a journal 1982', in Brunswick: stories and histories: a collection of articles from
Fusion, Francesca Folk-Scolaro (ed.), Brunswick Community History Group, Brunswick, 1999, p.46; Les
Barnes, It happened in Brunswick 1837-1987, Brunswick Community History Group, Brunswick, 1987, p.44.
5
Barnes, 'Notes from a journal 1982', pp.44-45.
6
From personal photos, there are 3577 enlistees recorded on the Memorial Foyer, comprising 513 names on the
Honour Roll, 2526 on the Nominal Roll, and 538 listed as ‘Did Not Embark’.
5
Among them is the name ‘Patterson, T.E’. A search of service records reveals nineteen-year-old
Thomas Edward Patterson enlisted weeks after his involvement in the incident with the window,
confirming members of the 72s served with the Australian Imperial Force (AIF). According to his
service record, Patterson maintained his larrikin ways in the military before his death on the field of
battle in Belgium in 1917.7
Patterson could be just another part of Australia’s infamous larrikin youth offenders of the
nineteenth and twentieth century. Taking Barnes’ cue and explored more deeply, he becomes a
soldier. A step further again, Patterson was a young man who paid the ultimate price in the First
World War. I can say this of Thomas Patterson because his name appears in the Brunswick and
Coburg Leader (BCL), in the Brunswick magistrate’s records, in a database of service records, and on
the Honour Roll in the Memorial Foyer on the opposite side of the Town Hall that he, his brother, and
a mate attacked prior to his enlistment.
This is the story of Brunswick’s Hungry 72 larrikin push. It was in this suburb that my own
ancestors worked in the clay industries and raised their families after arriving in the Victorian colony
in 1857. The memory of the 72s has survived to the present day mostly because of Les Barnes, whose
writings I encountered while researching my family history. I have wondered whom the members of
the Hungry 72 were, which members went to war, and if they were the sensation Barnes suggested.
Moreover, if 72s did enlist, what can their service records tell us about street larrikins in the AIF?
The Hungry 72 offer a unique perspective of Melbourne’s history because they provide insights
into working-class experiences of the First World War. The war affected heavily on the working-class
who enlisted in greater numbers than any other demographic in Australia.8 There are limited sources
on larrikinism during the war apart from police files, magistrate’s records, and newspapers accounts.
Consequently, military service records offer an account of the often overlooked working-class in
correspondences and enlistment records, adding a new dimension to the historical experience of the
worker and larrikin.9
The 72s offer a chance to broaden existing research on larrikins and the AIF soldiery through
members of an actual push who served. Researchers of Brunswick’s history including Cecile Trioli
and Laurie Cunningham, Flora Georgiou, and Laura Donati have complemented Barnes’ writings. In
combination with the BCL and war service records, a more intricate story of the Hungry 72 develops
beyond a push synonymous with terrorising a suburb a century ago.
7
Casualty Form-Active Service in ADFPR, 4492, Thomas Patterson, B2455, NAA.
8
Ernest Scott, Australia during the war, Official history of Australia in the war of 1914-1918, Vol. 11, Angus &
Robertson, Sydney, 1936, pp.660-661.
9
Cecile Trioli and Laurie Cunningham, 'From Brunswick to the Dardanelles', in Brunswick: one history, many
voices, edited by Helen Jean Penrose, Victoria Press, South Melbourne, 1994, p.123; Janet McCalman,
Struggletown: public and private life in Richmond 1900-1965, Hyland House, South Melbourne, 1998, p.91.
6
Ordering the 72s
My story consists of three chapters that examine the history of the 72s in Brunswick, the
demographic of Brunswick’s soldiery, and the experience of push enlistees in the First World War. In
the first chapter I have identified forty individuals who can be linked to the 72s. Two mobs existed
during the war years: an older group of siblings and their associates, and their younger brothers and
their mates who formed the Hungry 72. The push was a larrikin tradition amongst working-class
youths with diverse religious and racial backgrounds, heavily influenced by the social machinations of
the First World War.
In Chapter Two, I construct a demography of the Brunswick enlistees which I use to determine
how they measured up against the national soldier cohort. Broad assumptions and myths of the AIF
obscure the diversity of the suburb’s working-class enlistees. The 72s enlistees are better understood
in the context of the men who served from their own suburb by determining if they were like other
soldiers, and what, if anything, defined them against the average Brunswick enlistee.
The final chapter examines the 72s at war. Six members positively identified with the push enlisted
in the AIF. The military records chronicle their service, misdemeanours, punishments handed down
by military courts, and factors that may have influenced their behaviour. These few push members
offer a diverse view of how members of a larrikin push on the streets of Brunswick transitioned to life
in the army.
Redefining the Larrikin
There are two parts to this story of the 72s: the larrikin in Brunswick and the soldier in the AIF. A
single incident at the Town Hall recorded in the BCL tells only the larrikin part of the story. Behind
that event is a more detailed narrative discovered by employing a social history approach. This
methodology seeks to include the voices of previously overlooked members of a society, in this
instance, the Hungry 72s and Brunswick’s enlistees who served in the First World War.10
Historians Martin Crotty and Andrew Roberts indicate a diversity of experiences can be found in
the ‘microscopic case studies … local histories, genealogy, biographies and institutional histories …
[which represent] a significant divergence from the broad canvas of national history’. 11 With
previously unpublished records and accounts, a more nuanced understanding of Brunswick takes the
reader past the major headlines and events that have previously defined the First World War period.
10
Martin Crotty and David Andrew Roberts, 'Introduction', in Turning points in Australian history, edited by
Martin Crotty and David Andrew Roberts, UNSW Press, Sydney, 2009, pp.4-5.
11
Ibid., pp.5, 11.
7
Exploring the lives of Brunswick’s enlistees and larrikins challenges preconceptions of the
traditions some Australians hold sacred as they relate to ANZAC myths. In this instance, it is the
realisation that the AIF comprised men both good and bad. In the past, writers portrayed pivotal
events in Australian history, such as the First World War, as the origin of a shared heritage that was
progressive and ultimately, nationalistic.12 Herbert Butterfield describes the use of major events to
plot a nation’s upward progress as ‘a line of causation’ that originated in the nineteenth century
western Enlightenment as a useful tool to create nations and empires.13 This approach is not without
its faults, creating an idea of an enlightened society and bright future that owes a debt of gratitude to
its past.14
But a shift has occurred in writing Australian military histories, demonstrated by the essays of
Marilyn Lake and Henry Reynolds in What’s Wrong with ANZAC, Craig Stockings’ Anzac’s Dirty
Dozen, and Peter Stanley’s Bad Characters. Lake and Reynolds question the militarisation of
Australian history focusing on what they believe to be the over promotion and lack of understanding
of ANZAC Day. They believe this has led to ‘misrepresentation and forgetting of our broad history’. 15
Similarly, Stockings’ preface to ANZAC’s Dirty Dozen warns that the book ‘may disturb, or even
offend’ by taking ‘aim at whole tribes and traditions’ of Australia’s military history to correct
misconceptions that are ‘bent on commemoration, veneration, and capturing the essence of idealised
“Australian” virtues’.16 These misconceptions deteriorate further through social media, newspapers,
and popular histories, which Stockings’ believes ‘warp and twist our perceptions of war’.17 The
altered version of Australia’s military, and social history, is also acknowledged by Stanley, who
observed that after the war the AIF’s larrikins were cast as benign or forgotten by soldiers, writers and
the public, and disconnected ‘from the tough reality of the original Sydney pushes’.18
The ‘larrikin’ is by no means a definitive character of the ANZAC myth, despite its portrayal as
such in popular books and movies. The iconic Australian film Gallipoli (1981) depicted two young
Australians, rancher Archy Hamilton and labourer Frank Dunne teaming up to enlist in the First
World War. The film is a mixture of the quintessential bush and larrikin legends of the AIF that
historian Richard White described as a ‘split personality’ of an ‘ideal type … and … unkempt
larrikin’.19 The larrikin in particular offers harmless, light-hearted scenes when Frank and his mates
12
Ibid., p.2.
13
Cited in ibid., p.2.
14
Ibid., pp.3.
15
Marilyn Lake & Henry Reynolds, What's wrong with ANZAC?: the militarisation of Australian history,
UNSW Press, Sydney, 2010, pp.vii-viii.
16
Craig Stockings, 'Introduction', in Anzac's dirty dozen : 12 myths of Australian military history, edited by
Craig Stockings, NewSouth Publishing, Sydney, 2012, pp.1-2.
17
Ibid., pp.2-3.
18
Peter Stanley, Bad characters: sex, crime, mutiny and the Australian Imperial Force, Murdoch Books,
Sydney, 2010, pp.215-216, 241-242.
19
Richard White, Inventing Australia: images and identity 1688-1980, George Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 1981,
8visit Egypt’s infamous brothel district (Wazza), and display their anti-British and anti-authoritarian
sentiments by ridiculing British officers.20 However, in the reality of Victorian and Edwardian
Australia, the larrikin was quite different.21
Generations of admiring Australians jealously guard the ANZAC myth, as did its architect Charles
Bean.22 On the ground with the AIF throughout the war, Bean promoted his ideal of the bushman in
The Anzac Book (1916) and the Official History of Australia in the War in which he defined the
Australian soldier as ‘a bushman in disguise’, an image he defend his entire life.23 He acknowledged
the AIF was composed of good and bad men, but rejected any critical accounts of the Australian
forces that highlighted larrikin-like behaviour, complaining that a ‘great damage … [is] … done to the
Anzac tradition by caricatures … portraying … drunkenness, thieving and hooliganism’.24
Meanwhile, Australian writers had taken Australian street larrikin characters and sent them to her
wars. ‘G.B’ created ‘Dick Kelly’ in 1902, leader of the Vere St push of Collingwood, transforming
him from violent street thug to volunteer with a Boer War contingent. His street aggression finds
purpose in the military and he dies a hero’s death. His final thoughts are of Collingwood where he
learnt his ‘fraternal loyalty’ that helped him become valuable to the nation.25 A decade later, Clarence
Michael James (C.J) Dennis, creator of the Sentimental Bloke was producing works including The
Moods of Ginger Mick and Digger Smith during the war years, in which he captured the world of the
urban larrikins.26
Dennis set ‘Ginger Mick’ in a fictional Gallipoli in 1916 where he would win the hearts of
Australian infantrymen homesick on the front and begin to establish the larrikin as an essential
Australian characteristic of the AIF.27 Mick, like Kelly, finds purpose in the war after a life in a
Melbourne slum: ‘I know wot I wus born fer now, an’ soljerin’s me game’. 28 In May 1916, Dennis
also gave Ginger Mick, reformed larrikin and soldier, a hero’s farewell; his dying thoughts are with
his girlfriend Rose.29 The success of Ginger Mick may have been due to Dennis capturing the patterns
of speech and slang of the streets. He combined both rhyming slang and later, AIF slang, submitted to
p.136.
20
'Gallipoli (1981)', IMDb, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0082432/, 2 June 2013; Stanley, Bad characters, p.242.
21
Melissa Bellanta, Larrikins: a history, University of Queensland Press, St Lucia, 2012, p.131.
22
Ibid., p.242.
23
Dudley McCarthy, Gallipoli to the Somme: the story of C.E.W Bean, John Ferguson Pty Ltd, Sydney, 1983,
p.74-78; Charles Bean, The story of Anzac: from the outbreak of war to the end of the first phase of the Gallipoli
campaign, May 4, 1915, Official history of Australia in the war of 1914-1918, 6th edition, Vol. 1, Angus &
Robertson, Sydney, 1937, p.46.
24
Stanley, Bad characters, pp.11, 241; Eric Montgomery Andrews, The Anzac illusion: Anglo-Australian
relations during World War 1, CUP, Melbourne, 1993, p.61.
25
Simon Sleight, 'Interstitial Acts: Urban Space and the Larrikin Repertoire in Late-Victorian Melbourne',
Australian Historical Studies, Vol. 40, No. 2, 2009, pp.249-250.
26
Dennis, C.J. Dennis: the complete Sentimental Bloke, pp.ix-x.
27
Bellanta, Larrikins, p.xvi; Dennis, C.J. Dennis: the complete Sentimental Bloke, p.x.
28
Dennis, C.J. Dennis: the complete Sentimental Bloke, pp.76-83, 133.
29
Ibid. pp.132-140.
9him by a soldier friend, Frank Roberts. Dennis became a mascot for AIF soldiers who received a
specially designed pocket edition of Ginger Mick to fit their uniforms.30
However, the larrikin was not a term of endearment. Larrikinism began to be associated with
violent, anti-social behaviour, particularly among poor inner-city youths from the 1870s through to
the 1950s.31 Historians of the twentieth Century such as Bean, Patsy Adam-Smith, H.M Green, and
Russel Ward either denounce the true larrikin, Dennis’ characters, or avoid larrikinism all together in
their writings.32 The shift in favour of the larrikin as part of the ANZAC legend during the First World
War is traceable to enlisted men adopting behaviours associated with larrikinism such as drinking,
gambling and promiscuity.33 Immediately after the war, the patriotic Australian publication, Smith’s
Weekly, defended the image of the civilian man as soldier and became the ‘digger’s bible’. In the
white-collar city worker, Smith’s promoted an element that had been previously reserved for the
1890s bushman with a larrikin streak, popularising mateship, coolness under fire, and disrespect for
authority.34
Peter Stanley correctly points out the AIF was composed primarily of civilians and despite the
legend, not all were heroes. A fellow soldier described some enlistees as ‘criminals [and] base job
men’.35 Even Victoria Cross recipients committed military offences. Indiscipline could be the result of
the ‘bad men’ entering the AIF or the traumatic effects of war.36 The later, popular image of an
ordinary working man, drunk, embracing irreverent humour, anti-authoritarianism and nonchalance in
adversity often masked more serious acts, from racism to assault, rape and murder within the AIF. 37
As Bean argued, the larrikin legend did not apply to all returned servicemen. Veteran Fred Farrall
stressed his own sobriety during interviews with historian Alistair Thomson, and complained about
the ANZAC stereotype of the boozer, gambler, and womaniser, which did not represent his own
experience and view of the AIF. Thomson cautioned that the larrikin stereotype ‘could misrepresent
an individual experience, exclude him from public affirmation rituals, and make him feel
uncomfortable’.38 Stanley similarly observed that the larrikin image did not suit all men. Indeed,
30
Ibid., p.x; Geoffrey Hutton, C. J. Dennis, the sentimental bloke: an appraisal after 100 years of this birth,
Premier's Department, Melbourne, 1976, p.33-35.
31
Bellanta, Larrikins, p.xiv; Susan Priestley, 'Larrikins and the Law 1849-1874', Victorian Historical Journal,
Vol. 74, No. 2, 2003, p.244.
32
H.M. Green, A history of Australian literature pure and applied, revised by Dorothy Green, Angus &
Robertson, Sydney, 1985, pp.440, 443; Patsy Adam-Smith, The ANZACS, Nelson, West Melbourne, 1978,
p.178; Russel Ward, The Australian legend, OUP, Melbourne, 1958, pp.5, 8-9, 11.
33
Bellanta, Larrikins, p.174.
34
White, Inventing Australia, pp.132-133, 136; Bellanta, Larrikins, p.178.
35
Stanley, Bad characters, p.240; Bellanta, Larrikins, p.174.
36
Stanley, Bad characters, pp.10-11.
37
Bellanta, Larrikins, pp.172-173, 178; Stanley, Bad characters, pp.138, 242-243.
38
Alistair Thomson, 'Anzac Memories: putting popular memory theory in practice in Australia', Oral History,
Vol. 18, No. 1, 1990, p.28.
10‘larrikin’ soldiers who did not serve well found themselves excluded from post-war comradeship.39
Yet other men who Thomson interviewed celebrated the stereotype, as it conjured ‘exciting memories
of their own wild youth’.40
The closer study of Brunswick’s enlistees reveals further complexities by understanding they were
a citizen force, not professional soldiers as the defence forces are today. Recruits came from trades,
labourers, professional men, both good and bad. The AIF inherited their attitudes and behaviours that
would later define their time in uniform.
The Hungry 72 larrikins were a part of the Australian urban landscape prior to the First World War
and can be considered Brunswick’s ‘Ginger Micks’, even though the suburb was not synonymous
with Melbourne’s slums as were Collingwood or ‘Little Lon’.41 In 1871 Sir George Stephen, a self-
confessed larrikin, warned ‘if you do not understand larrikinism you will never understand the
Australian character’.42 My story looks past the myths and popular ideals of First World War soldiers
to the reality of a working-class suburb in which youths grew through adolescence in a larrikin push
and who, along with their country, were swept up in the war.
39
Stanley, Bad characters, pp.240-241.
40
Thomson, 'Anzac Memories', p.28.
41
Little Lonsdale Street.
42
Cited in Priestley, 'Larrikins and the Law', p.243.
11CHAPTER 1: THE HUNGRY 72
‘is name is on the records at the Melbourne City Court,
Fer doin’ things an’ saying’ things no reel nice feller ort;
An’ ‘is name is on the records uv the Army, over there,
Fer doin’ things – same sort o’ things that rose the Bench’s ‘air.
C.J. Dennis1
A n unassuming paragraph under the headline ‘Brunswick Police Court’ in the BCL of October
1915 relates that Percy Holmes and James Gilbert, charged with offensive behaviour, were
‘members of a push known as the Hungry 72’.2 Holmes was involved again in December during the
incident at the Town Hall, which became front-page news for the BCL. Readers learned that ‘the 72’s
are a push of larrikins, the greatest pests in the district’.3 A fortnight later, it was ‘The Hungry 72’s
again’ following an assault outside the Lyric Theatre in Sydney Road.4 The 72s had gone from
relative obscurity to media sensation in just a few months.
This chapter is the story of the Hungry 72. I have identified forty names connected to the 72s,
revealing a continuum of larrikin behaviour in Brunswick, as well as the formation of the push, and
the influences that brought the members together. Broad research during the twenty-first century
suggests variables including social, economic, and family conditions and opportunities combine to
influence gang formation.5 Although similar influences exist in the emergence of the 72s, their
development also reflected the extraordinary social upheaval of the early 1900s as the country
marched towards war and sought to control its larrikin youths.
Larrikin Inheritance
Larrikinism was an issue for residents and authorities in Brunswick as it was for any other
working-class suburb of Melbourne. Historian Melissa Bellanta describes the capital cities of
Melbourne, Sydney, and Brisbane as having a ‘larrikin belt’ between 1870 and the 1890s, defined by
where the majority of larrikins lived. In Melbourne, this included the city centre, Carlton, Fitzroy,
Collingwood, and Richmond, but not Brunswick.6 However, Brunswick’s young male and female
1
Clarence James Dennis, C.J. Dennis: the complete Sentimental Bloke, ed. Neil James, Angus & Robertson,
Sydney, 2001, p.73.
2
'Brunswick Police Court (d)', BCL, 8 October 1915, p.3.
3
'Worse than the Bubonic Plague', BCL, 3 December 1915, p.1.
4
'The Hungry 72's Again', BCL, 17 December 1915, p.2.
5
Karen Kinnear, Gangs: a reference handbook, 2nd edition, ABC-CLIO, Santa Barbara, 2009, p.6.
6
Melissa Bellanta, Larrikins: a history, University of Queensland Press, St Lucia, 2012, pp.viii, 9.
12population were active on the suburb’s streets, growing up ‘straight’ or defining themselves through
anti-social behaviour. References to larrikin behaviour in Brunswick are evident as early as 1874,
when a Government Select Committee addressing the issue of Melbourne larrikins heard of incidents
that included a ‘horseman’ pelted with stones in Brunswick.7 In 1898, the first moniker ‘push’ came
to light in Brunswick when ‘J.E.G’ wrote to the Brunswick Medium complaining of the ‘Pie-stallers’
of Victoria Street, and other ‘foul-smelling “riff-raff”’ who targeted unprotected women in Albert and
Union Streets.8 Later that year, the Brunswick Magistrates’ Court fined members of the Diamond
Dashers for insulting behaviour on Sydney Road.9 During the later war years, other pushes emerged in
Brunswick, including the Mystery Push in 1916, and the Thirsty Lyndhurst in 1917, and later, the
Bashers and Little Bashers, The Lygons, and Broadways in the 1920s.10
Given the evidence of pushes prior to, and after the war years, the 72s were maintaining a larrikin
inheritance for Brunswick, part of an ongoing trend of gang culture involving youths in Melbourne’s
working-class suburbs.11 Gangs, or ‘pushes’ as they were known in Australia, often consisted of lower
class and less affluent youths aged between twelve and twenty-four, who defined themselves as a
group, defended a territory, and threatened social order before disbanding as they matured.12 The
territory occupied by the pushes alluded to in J.E.G’s letter, particularly around Union Street, were
later identified by Les Barnes as part of the 72s territory. This covered the Jewell train station, Union
Street and Little Gold Street, the Lyric Theatre, and pie stalls outside the Cornish Arms Hotel in
Sydney Road (see Appendix B and Appendix D: Figure 6).13
Larrikin Genealogy
According to Les Barnes, the 72s emerged in early 1914, yet the first reference to the ‘Hungry 72’
in the BCL did not appear until October the following year around along with another rival push, the
‘Dirty Forty’ (or ‘Dirty Forties’) from Moreland.14 No records confirm Barnes’ 1914 origin of the 72s
7
Unidentified, Parliamentary debates, Victoria Legislative Council and Legislative Assembly, Vol. XVIII, John
Ferres, Melbourne, 1874, p.516.
8
Flora Georgiou, 'Push an' Pies', in Brunswick: one history, many voices, edited by Helen Penrose, Victoria
Press, South Melbourne, 1994p.199; J.E.G, 'Correspondence: To the Brunswick Larrikins: To the Editor', in A
scrapbook of Brunswick in the Hungry 1890s, edited by Laurie Cunningham and Laura Donati, Laurie
Cunningham, Brunswick, 2008, p.19.
9
'"The Diamond Dashers"', Coburg Leader, 6 April 1901, p.4; Georgiou, 'Push an' Pies', p.199.
10
Georgiou, 'Push an' Pies', p.204; Les Barnes, It happened in Brunswick 1837-1987, Brunswick Community
History Group, Brunswick, 1987, p.52.
11
Georgiou, 'Push an' Pies', p.204.
12
Bellanta, Larrikins, p.xiv; Simon Sleight, 'Interstitial Acts: Urban Space and the Larrikin Repertoire in Late-
Victorian Melbourne', Australian Historical Studies, Vol. 40, No. 2, 2009, p.234; Kinnear, Gangs, pp.2-3.
13
Georgiou, 'Push an' Pies', p.202; Laurie Cunningham, Frame by Frame: a history of Brunswick's picture
theatres, Brunswick Community History Group, Brunswick, 1995, pp.8, 10; 'Brunswick Police Court (b)', BCL,
24 September 1915, p.2.
14
Barnes, It happened in Brunswick, p.44; 'Brunswick Police Court (d)', BCL, p.3; Les Barnes, 'Suppressing
Larrikinism', in Brunswick: stories and histories: a collection of articles from Fusion, Francesca Folk-Scolaro
(ed.), Brunswick Community History Group, Brunswick, 1999p.61; ‘News of the Week’, BCS, 15 October
13by name, but I contend that the formation of the push pre-dates the BCL accounts. Growing up in
Brunswick, Barnes was very familiar with the 72s legend. His recollections suggest an admiration for
the 72s evidenced in his youthful desire to join the push.15 Barnes played football with a Jack McEvoy
in the late 1920s and clearly gained information on the 72s from this experience. Jack identified his
brother, Allan, as a leader of the 72s after the first leader, Norman ‘Itchy’ Hutchinson, enlisted.16
Barnes also acknowledged that former push members related that 72s died in the conflict.17
Barnes suggests that the push derived the name ‘Hungry 72’ as they were always ‘hungry for a
fight’. He also proposed that local constable Barney Herbert provided their moniker ‘Hungry’ because
they ‘scoffed’ pies outside the Cornish Arms (see Appendix H for a biography on Herbert). The ‘72’
was supposedly the maximum number of members the gang allowed.18 Perhaps there is another origin
to this number. Punishments handed to 72s by the Brunswick court included a gaol term in default of
fines, usually forty-eight or seventy-two hours. The 72s involved in the Town Hall incident received
just such a sentence. Perhaps this length of time was the origin of ‘72’, denoting a celebration of their
larrikin bravado represented by their sentencing.
Despite Barnes’ recollection of their 1914 origins, it is likely that the 72s does have credence pre-
dating 1914 (see Appendix A). A list of 72s identified in the BCL indicates three members of the push
had older siblings with larrikin associates known to the police from whom it is possible to trace the
influences and associations of the push. For instance, known 72s member John White had an older
brother, Fred, who was associating with John Pickup, Clarence McIntyre, James Dowling and John
Belcher when charged with obstructing the footpath in September 1915.19
John Pickup was a notorious character in Brunswick, well known to police for never having a job,
and appeared on at least seven occasions in the BCL. He is also the earliest character linked to the 72s
I have found during the war years. In January 1916, Pickup faced court for vagrancy. Police had been
watching his movements for months at racecourses and two-up schools.20 The constabulary
denounced his character, reporting he was a ‘reputed thief and kept company with convicted men’,
prostitutes, and even notorious Melbourne gangster, ‘Squizzy’ Taylor.21 Pickup, trying to reclaim his
character, declared he had ‘joined the forces’ for three months, but admitted to his dismissal for
wearing a stolen soldier’s tunic, adding a military conviction to his tattered reputation.22
1914, p.2.
15
Georgiou, 'Push an' Pies', pp.202, 204; Barnes, 'Notes from a journal 1982', pp.45-46.
16
Attestation Papers in ADFPR, 11791, Norman Hutchinson, B2455, NAA.
17
Georgiou, 'Push an' Pies', p.204; Barnes, It happened in Brunswick, p.44.
18
Georgiou, 'Push an' Pies', p.202.
19
'Brunswick Police Court (b)', BCL, p.2.
20
'A Local 'Gentleman' in Unsavoury Limelight', BCL, 14 January 1916, p.2.
21
Ibid.
22
Ibid.
14Pickup did not actually enlist in the AIF, almost certainly because he was charged with larceny
over the tunic. His police record would not have helped either. I have not been able to connect Pickup
directly with the 72s, although most of his offenses occurred before publication of the moniker.
Associates of Pickup during his offences included McIntyre, Dowling, and Fred White. They did not
have previous military training, perhaps explained by their age. Enlistment records indicate they were
twenty-two years or older in 1915 and probably avoided the seventeen year old age requirement in
1911 for compulsory military training, or were dodging as many young men did.23 Pickup, however,
was twenty-one in 1915 and would have qualified for compulsory training four years earlier
explaining why he might have ‘joined the forces’. McIntyre, Dowling, and White, however, all
enlisted in the First World War as was suggested by one court report on White in 1915.24 White was
killed in action in France in 1916 and although never identified with the 72s moniker, I wonder if he
and his mates were part of the enlistments and deaths that Barnes attributed to the Hungry 72 (see
Appendix D, Figure 5). 25 Were these men part of a push that existed prior to 1914, or part of the
founding members of the ‘72s’ in 1915?
Nevertheless, an analysis of the offences committed by the 72s reveals two groups of offenders.
The first group of fifteen individuals comprise the older brothers of 72s, including Fred White, Arthur
Ali, John Belcher, and their associates, who were over the age of twenty in 1915. The second group of
twenty-five individuals are the 72s themselves, comprising younger brothers and their associates who
were under twenty-one years of age and did not offend with members of the older group (see
Appendix A). Older push members often avoided police attention. Fresh or young recruits could be
‘put in’ by older members, or offended to prove themselves to the push.26 As I suggested earlier, it is
unclear whether the older group defined themselves as a push per se, as Constable Herbert may have
called members of the older group ‘Hungry’ before October 1915. Nevertheless, what is certain is that
only after the younger members fronted court and police identified defendants as ‘72s’, that the name
became a BCL sensation.
The 72s moniker was not the only way the push defined themselves. Bellanta and historian Simon
Sleight discuss various larrikin clothing and haircuts that characterised a push, which the later
describes as a ‘public performance’.27 According to Barnes, Lew Holmes, a coppersmith and likely a
23
David Pyvis, Government youth policy in Australia, 1788-2000: the control of military training, employment
and socialization, Edwin Mellen Press, New York, 2006, pp.101, 103.
24
'Brunswick Police Court (b)', BCL, p.2; Attestation Papers in ADFPR, 1507, Clarence McIntyre, B2455,
NAA; Attestation Papers in ADFPR, 1637, James Dowling, B2455, NAA; Attestation Papers in ADFPR, 2124,
Frederick White, B2455, NAA.
25
Casualty Form-Active Service in ADFPR, 2124, Frederick White, B2455, NAA.
26
Susan Priestley, 'Larrikins and the Law 1849-1874', Victorian Historical Journal, Vol. 74, No. 2, 2003,
p.246.
27
Bellanta, Larrikins, pp.106-126; Sleight, 'Interstitial Acts', pp.240-243.
15brother of 72s repeat offender Percy Holmes, designed a ‘H72’ pin that members wore.28 Such a pin
would certainly have been part of such a performance, identifying the 72s on the streets among their
peers alongside their reputation, and providing a sense of unity amongst the push membership.
Pushed Together
The formation of the 72s is difficult to understand from newspaper accounts alone. Bellanta
described the formation of gangs as a product of ‘the pull of the push’, but warned there was no single
reason for why a push formed.29 Barnes himself indicated the continuity of pushes were part of the
urban landscape, observing that ‘every street or region had its mob. You qualified at fifteen and were
automatically included’.30 Bellanta also observed that pushes could be ‘ad hoc entities’ of varying
members comprising brothers and friends, sporting associates, or a ‘looser collection of youths’;
factors that are also evident in the 72s.31
At least six pairs of brothers were involved with the 72s, including the older brothers I identified
earlier. Members of pushes came and went, as Barnes observed with the 72s who went to war, grew
older, or married, while others may have moved suburb, changed jobs or friendships, or were
frightened off by the law. The latter may account for why many of the 72s appear only once in the
BCL for related offences.32
An analysis of the spatial distribution of the 72s reveals that the push members were generally
living close to their territory at the southern end of Sydney Road (see Appendix B). Addresses of 72s
obtained from the BCL and enlistment records show two distinct clusters around Union Street and
Dawson Street. However, other members were scattered up to nearly two kilometres away such as
Norman Hutchinson, while one member was living in North Carlton.33 Hutchinson’s father was
former Brunswick councillor, James Hutchinson, and his family may have lived in the more
‘respectable’ streets of the suburb.34 Bellanta identified larrikinism as often involving Irish
Australians, particularly during the nineteenth century.35 The area around Gold Street, Union Street,
and Wilson Street, which became part of the 72s territory, was an Irish enclave in the late 1800s
surrounded by brickyards and employee’s homes.36 But the 72s were a diverse push. Service records
of the members indicate a variety of faiths including Catholics, Anglicans, Presbyterians, and
Methodists. Ethnic diversity may also be apparent in the 72s, as the Ali brothers appear to have been
28
Georgiou, 'Push an' Pies', p.202; Barnes, It happened in Brunswick, p.44.
29
Bellanta, Larrikins, pp.57, 85.
30
Barnes, 'Notes from a journal 1982', p.45.
31
Bellanta, Larrikins, pp.76-77.
32
Ibid. p.77, 84-85; Barnes, 'Suppressing Larrikinism', p.61.
33
'Offensive Behaviour (d)', BCL, 14 January 1916, p.2.
34
'News Worth Reading (b)', BCL, 11 May 1917, p.2
35
Bellanta, Larrikins, p.25.
36
Les Barnes, 'The Irish Presence', in Brunswick: one history, many voices, edited by Helen Penrose, Victoria
Press, South Melbourne, 1994, p.253-255; Bellanta, Larrikins, pp.25-26.
16of Arabic heritage.37 Ernest Ali’s service record describes his physical appearance as dark
complexion, hair and eyes. Bellanta’s assessment of ethnicity in pushes suggests a major priority for
membership was place of birth; a notion supported by the array of religions, heritages, and perhaps
even social status, amongst the 72s members.38
Surviving poverty may also be a factor in the formation of pushes. Janet McCalman studied life
expectancy in Victorian colonial populations, noting that men from poor or marginalised backgrounds
lived longer if they maintained family relationships.39 Critically, factors such as desertion or death of
a father, ‘sickness, truncated schooling, delinquency, [and] unemployment’ could prevent a youth
surviving in to adulthood.40 Could the 72s, along with other pushes, have formed simply because they
came from a demographic with a low rate of survival; the push offering the emotional support and
companionship needed in marginalised families to survive the rigours of poverty?
The growth of both rugby and Australian Rules football during the Edwardian period is yet another
factor that brought push members together. Bellanta observed that pushes were fighting over footy, as
Barnes confirmed with Australian Rules in Brunswick reflecting, ‘you went to football or played with
the mob team’.41 Larrikin gangs were creating their own football teams, and the 72s formed the
‘Emeralds’ after the war.42 In early November 1916, an incident involving the 72s and a rival push
may suggest tensions between pushes over not just territory, but also football. Push members Frank
Mitchell, Ernest Ali, Thomas Garland, Robert Hunt, Raymond Rosewarne, and Mervyn Anderson
faced court for their part in assaulting Sidney Seal, a member of the Mysteries Push.43 Mitchell and
Ali received one month’s imprisonment and the others fourteen days’ imprisonment. 44 A year after
this event and members of the similarly named Mystery Football Club came to police attention for
behaving offensively, again not far from 72s territory, indicating the Mysteries were likely to have
been both a push and football club.45 It is likely Seal was a member of the Mystery team.
Bellanta’s ‘loose association’ of push members is evident when John McShane was charged with
assaulting George Matthews near Glenferrie Station, Hawthorn in February 1916. McShane, a
resident of Richmond, claimed he was not a 72s member but a friend of push member Harry
37
Attestation Papers in ADFPR, 6770, Ernest Ali, B2455, NAA; Attestation Papers in ADFPR, 2103, Almas
Ali, B2455, NAA.
38
Bellanta, Larrikins, pp.25-26; NAA: B2455, Ali, E: Attestation Papers.
39
Janet McCalman, 'To Die Without Friends: Solitaries, Drifters and Failures in a New World Society', in Body
and mind: historical essays in honour of F.B. Smith, edited by Graham Davison, et al., MUP, Carlton, 2009,
pp.175, 185-186.
40
Ibid., p.183, 188.
41
Bellanta, Larrikins, p.xvii, 129; Barnes, 'Notes from a journal 1982', p.45.
42
Bellanta, Larrikins, p.131.
43
'"The Hungry Seventy-two's"', Argus, 23 November 1916, p.9; 'News Worth Reading (a)', BCL, 24 November
1916, p.2.
44
'"The Hungry Seventy-two's", Argus, p.9; 'News Worth Reading (a)', BCL, p.2.
45
Georgiou, 'Push an' Pies', p.203-204; 'Police Court News at Brunswick', BCL, 12 October 1917, p.1.
17Robinson. Perhaps trying to impress Robinson, McShane instigated the assault on Matthews before
push members Daniel Maher, Percy Holmes, Frank Mitchell, and Robinson joined him. A member of
the push in uniform, described as being a soldier, also joined the affray. One of the 72s reportedly
announced, ‘we have come from Brunswick; we have fixed them all up out there, and came here to do
the same’.46 The 72s present faced charges of ‘aiding and abetting’, received a £5 fine or two months
gaol. The court issued a warrant for the soldier’s arrest, but a search of police files failed to find any
further information on the suspect.47
Manly Exercises
The involvement of a soldier in the assault at Hawthorn suggests another reason as to why pushes
may have formed during the war. Les Barnes argued that military training was a factor in the
behaviour of Brunswick larrikins, although he did not explain his reasoning further.48 Prior to his
conviction for vagrancy, John Pickup was parading around ‘in uniform’ when charged with
obstructing the footpath outside the Lyric Theatre in September 1915, confirming members of
Brunswick’s larrikin mobs were actively involved in military training.49
Fisher Labor Government Defence Minister George Pearce was instrumental in establishing
compulsory military training in 1911 to teach teenage working-class boys responsibility and good
citizenship, to prepare them for the defence of the country, and to direct them away from spectator
sports with which the larrikin was synonymous.50 Pearce had complained in 1907 of unruly crowds
going to the football past his house and proposed, ‘It would be a blessing to those youths … to haul
them off by force … from the football grounds, and give them a few manly exercises on the military
field’.51 Masculine ideals of toughness or athleticism certainly would have played out amongst push
members and their role in a gang. Yet other observers took a different view, claiming that larrikinism
and city life was weakening the Australian male, and that war service would develop characteristics of
manhood.52
What transpired instead, I contend, was that the training camps offered a breeding ground and
outlet for larrikin behaviour, and arguably brought potential push members together. A BCL article in
46
'Unlawful Assault', Hawthorn, Kew, Camberwell Citizen, 4 February 1916, p.2; Georgiou, 'Push an' Pies';
'Hawthorn Police Court', Reporter, 11 February 1916, p.3.
47
'Hungry 72's at Glenferrie', BCL, 11 February 1916, p.2; Victoria Police Department, Victorian Police
Gazette, February 3, 1916, Government Printer, Melbourne, 1916, p.88.
48
Barnes, 'Notes from a journal 1982', pp.44-45.
49
'Brunswick Police Court (b)', BCL, p.2.
50
John Connor, Anzac and empire: George Foster Pearce and the foundations of Australian defence, CUP,
Melbourne, 2011, p.16, 22; Pyvis, Government youth policy in Australia, p.101.
51
Connor, Anzac and empire, p.22.
52
Bellanta, Larrikins, p.128; also see Noel McLachlan, Waiting for the revolution: a history of Australian
nationalism, Penguin, Ringwood, 1989, p.117, 182; and Richard White, Inventing Australia: images and
identity 1688-1980, George Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 1981, pp.42, 73, 81-83, 137.
181914, for instance, highlights vandalism and stone throwing by cadets in Coburg.53 These ‘street
devils’, as one resident described them, formed cadet gangs up to twenty strong, drinking and
smashing windows, tearing down signs, swearing and abusing residents after drill. A councillor,
shocked by their behaviour, regretted his earlier optimism, having believed ‘drilling would improve
them’.54
When discussing the larrikin element of the AIF, Bellanta suggested some AIF soldiers ‘thought
themselves larrikins’ prior to enlisting. Their behaviour may have influenced other enlistees to believe
they too were larrikins.55 Certainly, some men treated military camps as partly paid holidays and
unruly incidents involving recruits from training camps.56 At times, larrikin elements stirred trouble
alongside, but separate from, soldiers who rioted on the streets of cities and towns. 57 The press in
Fitzroy believed the ‘terrifying force of larrikin boys’ were a ‘disciplined cadet corps’ thanks to
military discipline, despite accounts of push fights continuing in the suburb during the war years.58
Historian David Pyvis also suggested ‘the claim that the [military training] scheme reduced
larrikinism has to be heeded’.59 However, the 72s suggest otherwise.
At least six members of the 72s served in the AIF. Service records of these members indicate five
of these six were involved in military training prior to enlistment (see Appendix C). This explains
why offenders, like Pickup, were seen in uniform in Brunswick and potentially how they knew each
other and came to be in the push. The ‘soldier’ involved in the Hawthorn assault may very well have
been a cadet and member of the 72s, as a photograph of cadets at the time depict an outfit that could
easily be considered a military or soldier’s uniform (see Appendix D, Figure 4).
The presence of the 72s in Hawthorn may also reflect a working-class antagonism towards the
middle-class that intensified during the war. A poem submitted to the BCL in 1915 implied that men
from Toorak were not as committed to the war as the working-class suburbs. A reply from a
‘Brunswick-Tooraker’ chastised the antagonistic and divisive nature of the piece, suggesting that
‘Toorak’ was chosen to ‘set class against class’.60 During the 1880s, Hawthorn had become an escape
for the wealthier middle-class fleeing Richmond.61 Glenferrie station, located a few stops east of
53
'Vandalism by Coburg Cadets', BCL, 25 September 1914, p.2.
54
Ibid.
55
Bellanta, Larrikins, p.174.
56
Peter Stanley, Bad characters: sex, crime, mutiny and the Australian Imperial Force, Murdoch Books,
Sydney, 2010, pp.57-58.
57
'Victorian Riots', West Australian, 18 January 1916, p.7; 'Riot in the City', Sydney Morning Herald, 14
December 1915, p.10.
58
'Prussianism and Modern Germany', Fitzroy City Press, 8 May 1915, p.2; 'Trouble in Fitzroy', Argus, 15
March 1915, p.4.
59
Pyvis, Government youth policy in Australia, p.127.
60
'Brunswick', 'To Those Who Should Follow', BCL, 24 September 1915, p.1; 'Brunswick Tooraker', 'To Those
Who Should Follow', BCL, 1 October 1915, p.2.
61
Graeme Davison, The rise and fall of marvellous Melbourne, 2nd edition, MUP, Carlton, 2004, pp.180, 185.
19Richmond, was easy access for a larrikin mob, with a soldier or cadet in tow, intending to ‘fix up’
their social betters.
The pushes did not hold sway over public space though. Police were keenly aware of the larrikins
on their beat like John Pickup and his mates, both identifying them as members of the 72s and
recording their names and activities. Loitering around Sydney Road brought twenty-two year old
Arthur Ali, the older brother of 72s enlistee Ernest, to the attention of Constable Herbert on more than
one occasion. Ali was charged with ‘having insufficient means of support’ in August 1915 with
Herbert relating he was ‘always about the Lyric Theatre … holding up verandah posts’. Three other
constables also never knew him to have work and associated Ali with a list of suspect characters,
including Pickup.62 Ali asserted he worked with the Hoffman brick works as a labourer until being
injured, finding odd work in between for one shilling per hour. His story, collaborated by Joshua
Kemp of the Hoffman Company, resulted in the Brunswick court dismissing the case.63
Keeping the House
Arthur Ali’s case is important as evidence of the hardships endured by the Ali family, and
Brunswick’s young men, in 1914. Social conditions rarely receive note in newspaper and courts
accounts that more often focus on the offences committed by miscreant youths. A difficult family life
and depressed economic situations could be another reason as to why youths joined the suburban
pushes.64 Any number of the 72s who enlisted may have done so because of family or economic
factors that went unrecorded. High unemployment across Australia during the first months of the war
is one reason for the ‘rush’ to enlist in addition to other factors such as patriotism.65
When arrested in 1915, Arthur Ali was struggling for work and only earning a minimal wage even
then. General labourers in clay industries in 1915 could expect wages around eight to nine shillings
per day (probably for an eight-hour day) or forty-eight to fifty shilling per week.66 Barnes recorded his
father earned £3 6s per week, of which £2 10s (fifty shillings) ‘kept the house’.67 Depending on the
availability of work, Arthur would have been a very low wage earner, represented by his admission
that he lived with his parents.68 Arthur’s two brothers, Almas, and 72s member Ernest both served in
the AIF. The poor financial position of the family may have played a part in their decision to enlist.
62
'Police Court Doings', BCL, 20 August 1915, p.1.
63
Ibid.; 'Brunswick Police Court: Vagrancy', BCL, 20 August 1915, p.2.
64
Kinnear, Gangs, pp.5-11.
65
Eric Montgomery Andrews, The Anzac illusion: Anglo-Australian relations during World War 1, CUP,
Melbourne, 1993, pp.44-45.
66
A. M. Laughton, Victorian Year Book 1914-1915, 35th edition, Albert J. Mullett, Government Printer,
Melbourne, 1915, p.803.
67
Barnes, 'Notes from a journal 1982', p.44.
68
'Vagrancy', BCL, p.2.
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