‘Great’ Brownless no one’s silly Billy

By Noel Murphy
CATS FOOTY legend Billy Brownless is the first to concede his limited reputation for academic achievements.
“I kicked a 150 goals in my HSC, I think that got me through,’’ he offers by way of evidence.
Not that Assumption College ever let too many slackers through.
Billy’s great great grandfather, Anthony Brownless, though, held an academic pedigree that would kick a Sherrin way over a Jerilderie wheat silo any day.
Sir Anthony Colling Brownless set up a medical course at Melbourne University and served as its vice chancellor.
He was a keen cricketer but appears to have shunned football.
“He was actually knighted twice, once in the UK and once in Australia,” Billy says.
“He set up a few things, he did pretty well for himself … and he had the best pack of hounds in Victoria.’’
Present-day Brownless family members Bill, father Tony and sister Melanie ventured to Melbourne Uni recently to lend three of great-great granddad’s medals to its Medical History Museum for display alongside a fully-restored portrait of Sir Anthony.
The great-great Brownless grandfather, who graduated from Scotland’s St Andrews University, arrived in Melbourne at the height of the Gold Rush in 1852.
He’d been forced to emigrate in a bid to recover from tuberculosis but smartly set up his own medical practice. In 1855 he was appointed to the council of the fledgling University of Melbourne, his aim to start up a medical school.
His portrait, a fine lithograph by British artist Thomas Herbert Maguire and dated 1850, is on show at the medical museum. Prodigious sideburns and coiffure aside, the image bears a fair resemblance to the footballing Brownlow scion of contemporary times.
“You really think so?” Billy asked.
“We’re proud of the contribution made to Melbourne and Victoria, absolutely, and continue to be impressed by his vision and dedication.”
The family heritage has another curious aspect.
“He died on the third of December 1897 and my daughter, Ruby, was born on the third of December 1997, exactly 100 years later,’’ says Billy.
It’s worth noting, too, the esteemed academic is in fact Billy’s namesake.
“Our first-born sons are all named Anthony. I’m actually Anthony William myself.”
But Billy failed to inherit the medical bent.
“I’m good at self-diagnosis, though,’’ he claims, “but you just have to work through it.
“A frothy helps sometimes, too, but my wife doesn’t think so.”