Gerard Krefft

He was educated at St Martin's College in Braunschweig (i.e., Martino-Katharineum) from 1834 to 1845.[14] As a youth, he was interested in art and wished to study painting. After his schooling, his family found employment for him at a mercantile firm in Halberstadt.

He married Annie McPhail (?-1926),[15] later (1893) Mrs. Robert Macintosh,[16] on 6 February 1869.[14] According to Nancarrow (2007, p. 5), Annie McPhail was the Australian-born daughter of Scottish bounty immigrants, who had arrived in Australia in 1837 to work for George Bowman, and she was five months pregnant at the time of her marriage to Krefft.[17]

They had four children,[18] only two of whom survived their infancy: Rudolph Gerard Krefft (1869-1951),[19] and Herman Gerard Krefft (1879-1911).[20] A fifth child, an unnamed stillborn daughter, was delivered on 2 July 1874.[21]

As a German-speaker, Krefft belonged to the largest non-English-speaking group in Australia in the 1800s;[22] and, as such, he was one of a number of influential German-speaking residents — such as William Blandowski, Ludwig Becker, Hermann Beckler, Amalie Dietrich, Wilhelm Haacke, Diedrich Henne, Friedrich Krichauff, Johann Luehmann, Johann Menge, Carl Mücke (a.k.a. Muecke), Ludwig Preiss, Carl Ludwig Christian Rümker (a.k.a. Ruemker), Moritz Richard Schomburgk, Richard Wolfgang Semon, Karl Theodor Staiger, George Ulrich, Eugene von Guérard, Robert von Lendenfeld, Ferdinand von Mueller, Georg von Neumayer, and Carl Wilhelmi — who brought their "epistemic traditions" to Australia, and not only became "deeply entangled with the Australian colonial project", but also were "intricately involved in imagining, knowing and shaping colonial Australia" (Barrett, et al., 2018, p. 2).[23]

Darwin was not the first to speak of "evolution". Robert Chambers, in his popular works, Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation (1844/1884) and Explanations (1845), had already made the notion of "evolution" a matter of public discussion.

Also, there were the two earlier (anonymous) articles — recently attributed (see: Tanghe & Kestemont, 2018) to Robert Jameson, the Regius Professor of Natural History at the University of Edinburgh, and the Journal's editor — "Observations on the Nature and Importance of Geology" (Anon, 1826; esp. pp.297-299) and "Of the Changes which Life has experienced on the Globe" (Anon, 1827), that had been published in the Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal at the time that Darwin was studying medicine at Edinburgh University. The articles were even more influential in the case of Darwin, given the fact that during the 1826/1827 academic year, Darwin had, as an extracurricular study, "assiduously" attended Jameson’s popular natural history lectures at Edinburgh University, which involved "lectures five days a week for five months" (Secord, 1991, p.p134-135), at least one of which was entitled "On the Origins of the Animal Species" (Tanghe & Kestemont, 2018, p.586).

However, Darwin was the first to propose "natural selection"[38] as the process responsible for the diversity of life on Earth,[39][40] based upon the foundations of the extensive and varied evidence provided by his in-the-field observations over two decades.[41][42]

Along with the Sydney botanist, Robert D. FitzGerald, and the Melbourne economist, Professor William Edward Hearn, Krefft was one of the very few Australian scientists in the 1860s and 1870s who supported Darwin's position on the origin of species by means of natural selection.[43][44] Krefft’s scientific career[45] (and, in particular, his entire professional life at the Australian Museum)[46] was concurrent with, and greatly influenced by, the "Darwinian controversy" and its widespread ramifications; not the least of which was the question of the order in which individual specimens should be exhibited in the Museum, and in what sort of way.

Alvar Ellegård's extensive (1958) survey of the coverage of the "Darwinian doctrine" in the contemporary U.K. press between 1859 and 1872,[49] distinguished three aspects: "first, the Evolution idea in its general application to the whole of the organic world; second, the Natural Selection theory; and third, [the] theory of Man’s descent from the lower animals" (Ellegård, 1990, p. 24).

Ellegård identified five ideological "positions" taken (or ideological "attitudes" displayed) by individual participants over that decade and a half,[50] which were determined, to a considerable extent, not only by their levels of education,[51] but also by their particular politico-social, philosophical, and/or religious orientation.[52]

Ellegård's five positions (collectively) reflected a series. As one moved from lower (1) to higher (5) along that series, "less and less of the processes going into the formation of species were recognized [by those holding that position] as supernatural, or outside the range of ordinary scientific explanation ... [and, therefore] anybody accepting a position with a higher [level] accepted ipso facto all the scientific explanation already granted by those holding a lower position" (Ellegård, 1990, p. 30):[53]

• (1): Absolute Creation (p. 30): "the fundamentalist religious position, according to which each species arose as a distinct and instantaneous creation, in the literal and naïve sense of the word";[54]
• (2): Progressive Creation (p. 30): "where species developed mysteriously from the simplest organic form";[55][56]
• (3): Derivation (p. 30): "which recognised the principle of descent in progressive evolution but allowed that this mechanism was only one of the secondary processes which the Creator employed";[55]
• (4): Directed Selection (p. 31): "which admitted the efficacy of Natural Selection for a considerable number of specific differentiations, but relied on a teleological explanation as an indispensable part of the explanation of the organic world";[55][57] and
• (5): Natural Selection (p. 31): "the scientific, non-teleological, non-supernatural explanation of the evolution of the whole organic world".[55][58]

A talented artist and draughtsman, and having met Blandowski when he (Krefft) was making copies of Gould's illustrations of native animals in The Mammals of Australia in the Public Library of Victoria,[65][66] Krefft was hired, by Blandowski, "on the basis of Krefft's ability to produce detailed drawings of natural history specimens",[67] to help sketch and collect specimens for the National Museum of Victoria[68] on William Blandowski's explorations of the relatively poorly-known and semi-arid country around the confluence of the Murray River and Darling River in 1856–1857.[69][59][70][71]

"During the Expedition, Krefft was responsible for overseeing the preparation of specimens and the registration and record-keeping for all the biological material. Krefft apparently also carried out much of the day-to-day work around the camp, including cooking and caring for the horses and bullocks. He was also required to act as Blandowski’s amanuensis, taking dictation from Blandowski by candlelight after dinner. Krefft proved to be a keen and perceptive observer of wildlife and a fine natural history illustrator. Throughout the Expedition he kept numerous mammal species in captivity to learn more about their habits, documenting diet and breeding information, including seasonality and litter size." — Menkhorst (2009), p.65.

"During the 1856/1857 expedition [Krefft] was Blandowski’s right-hand man, the natural history illustrator and the chronicler of all Blandowski’s idiosyncrasies, and especially his failings." — Humphries (2003), p.163.

Blandowski was recalled to Melbourne by the Victorian Government in early August; and Krefft took command of the expedition until it returned at the end of November 1857.[72] In 1858 Krefft was appointed to the National Museum of Victoria,[73] to catalogue the expedition's collection of 17,434 specimens,[74] which he listed under 3389 catalogue numbers.[75]

In 1858, following the death of his father, Krefft was obliged to return to Germany, where he travelled via England — where he visited the principal museums, met up with John Gould, John Edward Gray, Albert Günther, and Richard Owen,[60] and presented a paper (Krefft, 1858b) to the Zoological Society of London.

He took many illustrations and specimens with him;[72] however, as Allen (2006, p. 33) notes, "after his return to Germany, Krefft attempted to publish his observations and drawings, but was prevented from doing so by Blandowski ... [with] Blandowski claim[ing to Krefft's publisher] that the artwork from the expedition belonged to him, as expedition leader". Krefft returned to Australia from his sojourn in Germany, with brief stays en route at the Cape of Good Hope and Adelaide, arriving in Sydney on 6 May 1860.[77]

In June 1860, on the recommendation of Governor Sir William Denison,[14][78][79] he was appointed Assistant Curator to Simon Rood Pittard (1821–1861)[80][81][82] at the Australian Museum, "much to the annoyance of the museum trustees, who would have preferred someone with a formal degree".[83] Pittard, driven by his Anglo-Catholic, Puseyite views — and following the practice of Charles Willson Peale at the Peale Museum, in Philadelphia[84] — adorned the walls of the Museum with inscriptions of biblical texts.[85][86] Less than three weeks after Pittard’s death (in August 1861) the Trustees decided that these inscriptions were "[to] be removed, and that in future “no words be inscribed on the walls of the Board Room without the consent of the Trustees"."[87]

Having performed all of the duties of the position since Pittard's death in August 1861, Krefft was eventually appointed Curator of the museum in May 1864.[88][89][90][91]

During his time at the Australian Museum, Krefft maintained a relationship with the Melbourne Museum, corresponding and exchanged specimens with Frederick McCoy, its Director.[59] He also corresponded with a wide range of eminent overseas naturalists, including Charles Darwin, A.K.L.G. Günther, and Sir Richard Owen in the UK; L.J.R. Agassiz in the USA; "and many learned German scientists"[14] — and it is important to note that these interactions of Krefft were "informal communications with individuals rather than official dealings through government agencies, with the ensuing connections giving rise to further interactions with savants and museums in other centres of knowledge and power, including Germany, Austria, Italy, France, Sweden, Argentina, Canada, India and the United States, as well as Britain" (Davidson, 2017, p. 8).

"As a scientist Krefft occupied a position far removed from that of the typical collector at the periphery. He was a theoretically sophisticated naturalist whose contribution to the zoological literature of Australia was substantial and of lasting value. His letters to Darwin were those of a colleague and fellow scientist rather than a mere informant, and he took advantage of the existing networks of correspondence in furthering both his own career and the cause of science in the Australian colonies generally." — Butcher, 1988, p.147.

He was also responsible for arranging and cataloguing the Museum's collection of donated fossils, as well as those he had discovered in his own exploratory efforts in the field, such as the two important excavations of the fossil remains of mammals, birds, and reptiles he conducted in 1866 and 1869 at the Wellington Caves.[92][93][94][95]

Cabinet of Curiosities,
Domenico Remps (1689s).

"Which is the most important object:—that of collecting a cabinet of natural curiosities, to become the admiration of children and their nurses, or that of conveying knowledge and truth to the ignorant, to those in whose persons reside that power which will decide the future of this large and important country?" — G. H. Rowley, The Sydney Morning Herald, 8 August 1865.[106]

For at least two centuries British (and colonial) museums, clearly reflecting their Wunderkämmer/Cabinets of Curiosities heritage, had done little more than present "aimless collection[s] of curiosities and bric-à-brac, brought together without method or system of collections"; where, for instance, one of the most famous collections in "bygone days", that of the seventeenth century’s Musæum Tradescantianum (the collection which later provided the nucleus for Oxford University’s Ashmolean Museum), "was a miscellany without didactic value", "its arrangement was unscientific, and the public gained little or no advantage from its existence" (Lindsay, 1911, p. 60).[107]

In August 1846, within the Act establishing the Smithsonian Institution,[108] was a provision transferring the custody of the United States' official National Cabinet of Curiosities,[109] that had been previously deposited in the US Patent Office Building, to the Smithsonian.

In 1864, towards the end of his lengthy career as the Curator of the British Museum, John Edward Gray[110] — acknowledging the differences between a museum's research and public pedagogy functions, and expressing his hope that his colleagues would "heartily concur in doing all that is in our power to render [the British Museum] and other institutions conducive to the increase of the knowledge, the happiness, and the comforts of the people"[111] — remarked that, in his view, "public museums" were meant to serve the dual purposes of "the diffusion of instruction and rational amusement among the mass of the people, and ... to afford the scientific student every possible means of examining and studying the specimens of which the museum consists".[111][112]

In the 1860s, a time when "Colonial museums tended to exhibit specimens row upon row, and for the most part neglected to incorporate up-to-date techniques such as explanatory labels and habitat cases" (Sheets-Pyenson, 1988, p. 123), Gray's scientific position, his curatorial rationale, and his administrative approach were strongly supported by Krefft. Krefft, who was "devoted to the museum's interests", rather than to those of the trustees,[14] had already begun separating his own museum's research collections from its exhibition collections, and had already adopted many of Gray's measures by the early 1860s.[113]

In 1893, Sir William Henry Flower, labelled Gray's view "The New Museum Idea",[114] describing it as "the key-note of nearly all the museum reform of recent date", (Flower, 1893, pp. 29–30). Although these views were not unique to Gray,[115] it does seem that Gray's (1864) axiom had the widest dissemination over the ensuing years, was the most widely quoted and, therefore, can be said to have had the greatest influence — influencing many world-wide, including Krefft, and in the UK, such as Flower, at the British Museum (see: Flower, 1898),[116] and in the USA, such as G. Brown Goode at the Smithsonian Institution (see: Goode, 1895),[117] and Henry Fairfield Osborn, at the American Museum of Natural History (see, Osborn, 1912),[118] etc.

In 1917, American museum director John Cotton Dana lamented the fact that there was still great room for improvement, noting that the best museum displays were to be found in department stores, rather than in museums of the day.

In 1835, having examined teeth that had been extracted from the Rhaetian (latest stage of the Triassic) fossil beds of the Aust Cliff region of Gloucestershire in South West England, the Swiss natural historian Louis Agassiz identified and described ten different species of a holotype (or "type specimen"), which he named ceratodus latissimus (‘horned tooth’ + 'broadest'),[129] and had supposed — based upon the structure of their teeth plates resembling that of a Port Jackson shark[130][131] — were a kind of shark or ray, and from this, he had postulated, belonged to an order of the class of cartilaginous fishes (Chondrichthyes) collectively known as Chimaera.

Over the 1860s, Krefft’s regular dinner companion, the pastoralist squatter and former Premier of New South Wales, William Forster, had often spoken of the Queensland fresh-water salmon with a cartilaginous backbone,[132] well known to the Queensland squatters as Burnett Salmon — called "salmon" because of its pink, salmon-coloured flesh and its good eating — or "barramunda" (N.B. not barramundi). On each occasion, Krefft expressed his view that Forster’s claim of the existence of such a salmon was entirely mistaken.[133]

In January 1870, Forster presented Krefft with an approx. 3 ft (92 cm) specimen of the Burnett Salmon,[134] that had been sent to him [Forster] by his cousin, William Forster M'Cord.[135]

It was the first that Krefft had ever seen. From his detailed (and, perhaps, unique to Australia) familiarity with the relevant scientific literature, and from the specimen's unusual teeth, Krefft immediately "understood its enormous significance",[136] and recognized it as being something that "was halfway between dead (fossilised, like its nearest relatives) and alive (known to science)[137] — and, thus, "a living example of [Agassiz's] Ceratodus, a creature, thought to have been like a shark, which had hitherto been known only from fossil teeth":[138] a parallel to the (1994) recognition of the true identity of the Wollemi pine as a "living fossil".[139]

"The lungfish is a member of an extraordinary group of fishes, the Dipnoi, which have lungs as well as gills, allowing them to breathe air as well as water. Of the once widespread Dipnoan fish, only three survive today: Neoceratodus in Queensland, Protopterus in Africa, and Lepidosiren in South America. Neoceratodus appears to be more primitive than its overseas cousins. It is the closest surviving relative of the fish from which the first land vertebrates, the Labyrinthodonts, arose about three hundred and twenty-five million years ago." — (Grigg, 1973, p.14)

The lungfish is now widely recognized as a classic example of Darwin's "living fossils",[140] and its recognition as such, by the sagacious Krefft, represents a classic example of one of Walpole's serendipitous discoveries: i.e., those made by "accident and sagacity",[141] in that:

"(a) they were accidental: in that the discoverer was 'not in quest of' the thing discovered;
(b) they were made by one who was sufficiently sagacious to apprehend the connection between items that, to others, were completely random;[142] and
(c) they were not hidden: they were clearly visible to the sufficiently sagacious — i.e., 'hidden in plain sight'— and, once their location was indicated, could be seen by all."[143]

Krefft immediately announced his discovery in a letter to the Editor of the Sydney Morning Herald, published on 18 January 1870 (1870a); and, in doing so, he also named the specimen:

"In honour of the gentleman who presented this valuable specimen to the Museum, and in justice to him (whose observations I questioned when the subject was mentioned years ago, and to whom I now apologise), I have named this strange animal Ceratodus Forsteri.[144]

It is significant that, by announcing his discovery in the pages of a Sydney daily newspaper, rather than in some "learned British journal ... Krefft was not only claiming the lungfish, [but] was also staking a claim for Australian scientific independence".[145] Krefft's discovery was specifically mentioned within the comments of Australian Museum trustee Rev. William Branwhite Clarke on the mineralogical and geological exhibits at the 1870 Intercolonial Exhibition, held in Sydney;[146] and, moreover, it was of such significance that the Exhibition's report also included a poem, highlighting Krefft's discovery, written by Clarke himself.[147]

In November 1889, Norman Lockyer, the founding Editor of Nature, noted that Krefft's discovery of "the Dipnoous [viz., 'having both gills and lungs'] fish-like creature Ceratodus of the Queensland rivers" was "[one] of the more striking zoological discoveries which come within our [first] twenty years [of publication]".[148]

One of Krefft's main objectives, as Curator, was to re-position the Museum as a "forum of people's science" (Moyal, 1986, p. 99).

Given his recognition of the economic, social, and educational value of a wider dissemination of an accurate, up-to-date knowledge and understanding of scientific matters (especially Australian natural history) to the emerging colony and its developing community, it is significant that (from March 1871 until June 1874) Krefft published more than one hundred and fifty, lengthy, once-a-week "Natural History" articles in The Sydney Mail — a widely-read weekly magazine published every Saturday by The Sydney Morning Herald — on an extremely wide range of relevant subjects (see: ), specifically directed at an educated Australian lay audience; rather than, that is, engaging with his well-informed fellow scientists.[155]

In his first article (Krefft, 1871a), reflecting a view that had been expressed a decade earlier by the botanist Joseph Dalton Hooker,[156] speaking of how, although "few countries offer such a wide field to the student of nature as Australia" there were very few "handy books for the beginner" available in Sydney, "which has caused, in some measure, the apathy of the people to study our natural products". Moreover, he wrote, because "the most useful books" were little known — and many of those were "so expensive that they cannot be purchased, except by the wealthy" — he proposed to present a series of articles on Australian natural history, with the hope that their aggregate would eventually be published as a complete work.

Due to the distractions connected with the last stages of his disputes with the trustees of the Australian Museum, the last item he published whilst still Museum curator was on 27 June 1874.[158] Sixteen weeks later, following his separation from the Museum, he resumed his weekly articles,[159] and went on to publish another thirty-three "Natural History" articles over the next nine months.[160]

Although Krefft produced more than 250,000 words in the more than 180 "Natural History" articles that he had published over that four years, his hope of eventually producing a aggregated single work was never realized; no doubt mainly due to his dismissal from office having greatly limited his resources and significantly restricted his capacity to continue his dissemination enterprise.[161]

As part of Krefft’s determination to disseminating up-to-date scientific knowledge, a number of his Natural History, articles mention Darwin’s matter-of-fact observations as an in-the-field naturalist: e.g. (1871c, 1871d, 1871e, 1875a, 1875b, 1875c, etc.).

In 1873, he devoted two of his columns — 5 July 1873 (1873a), and 12 July 1873 (1873b) — to

The Darwin Correspondence Project contains an un-dated fragment of a letter from Krefft,[162] in which he explains that, given the "dreadful ... ignorance of even well educated people", and the constant criticisms of Darwin's "theories" voiced in Melbourne by the devout Irish Catholic Professor Frederick McCoy of the National Museum of Victoria, and the Evangelical Anglican Bishop of Melbourne Charles Perry, and, especially, the well-attended (7 July) Sydney lecture by the Melbourne-based Jesuit, Joseph O'Malley,[163] on "Noah's Ark"[164] — with the devout Irish Catholic layman[165] and Puisne Judge of the Supreme Court of New South Wales, Peter Faucett in the chair,[166]

Following his report to the trustees that, upon his return to the Museum on Christmas Eve 1873, Krefft had discovered a robbery (which was never solved) of "specimens of gold to the value of £70",[171][172] the trustees (although eager to do so) were unable to find any evidence of Krefft's complicity.[173] By this stage, with his accusations that the trustees were using the Museum's resources to augment their own private collections,[174][175] Krefft had fallen foul of most of the Trustees — especially William John Macleay, whose own extensive private collection, which included the comprehensive collections he had inherited from his uncle, Alexander Macleay (1767-1848), and his cousin, William Sharp Macleay (1792-1865), would become the foundation of the collections of the Macleay Museum at the University of Sydney in the 1890s.[176]

In the process of the escalating dispute between the trustees and Krefft,[181] the Museum was closed to the public, by order of the trustees, for eleven weeks — from 4 July 1874 to 23 September 1874 — and, at the same time, a police guard was stationed at the Museum, and Krefft was denied access to all parts of the Museum (including the cellar within which the fuel for his much-needed-in-the-winter fires was stored), except his private residence.[182][183][184][185]

Krefft had been suspended following an investigation by a subcommittee of trustees — Christopher Rolleston, Auditor-General of New South Wales, was appointed chairman, and Archibald Liversidge, Professor of Geology and Mineralogy at the University of Sydney, Edward Smith Hill, wine and spirit merchant, and Haynes Gibbes Alleyne, of the New South Wales Medical Board — who, having examined a number of witnesses, found some of the charges against Krefft sustained, and also claim to have discovered "a number of [other] grave irregularities".[186]

Krefft had been unable to meet the trustees' request to appear before them on the Thursday (2 July 1874) because he was unwell (he had supplied a medical certificate to that effect),[187] and that his wife, whose difficult confinement had been attended by George Bennett, had just delivered a stillborn child (on 2 July 1874), a daughter, after two days of intense labour with Krefft by her side the whole time in their residence over the Museum.[188][189]

On 1 September 1874, three weeks before Krefft's forceful eviction, long-term trustees George Bennett (who, at the time, was attending Mrs Krefft's confinement) and William Branwhite Clarke both resigned "as a consequence of the steps recently taken by the trustees of the Museum with respect to the Curator".[193]

On 21 September 1874, Krefft and his family were physically removed from his Museum apartment within which he had barricaded himself,[194] by the "diminutive bailiff" Charles H. Peart, assisted by two known prizefighters (identified as Kelly and Williams) who had been expressly hired (from Kiss's Horse Bazaar)[195][196] to effect the eviction,[197] because the Police refused to act — on the grounds that Krefft had not been dismissed by the Government, only by the trustees (and, therefore, it was a civil (and not a police) matter).

At his eviction, he was forcibly carried out of his apartment, refusing to move from his chair, and was, then, unceremoniously thrown out into Macquarie street by the prizefighters.[198][199] The press report of Krefft's subsequent (November 1874) damages action noted that, "throughout the affair [Krefft] had denied the trustees' power to dismiss him; and, on the trustees appealing to the Government, the Colonial Secretary [viz., Henry Parkes] had cautiously told the trustees that, as they thought it expedient to expel [Krefft] without first seeking the advice of the Government, no assistance could be afforded".[196]

At the time of his forcible eviction, all of his possessions were seized; and, almost two years after the eviction Krefft was complaining that "my own and my wife's personal property, my books, specimens, scientific instruments, medals and testimonials", all of which had been "illegally taken possession of by the trustees", were still to be returned to him.[200][201]

Krefft's position was that the trustees, acting independently of the New South Wales government, had no right to dismiss him.

The trustees — two members of which, William Macleay and Captain Arthur Onslow, "manifested great animus towards Mr. Krefft, and used their utmost exertions to cast obloquy upon that gentleman"[205][206] — responded by accusing Krefft of drunkenness, falsifying attendance records, wilfully destroying a fossil sent to the Museum by one of its trustees, George Bennett, for its preparation to be sent on the Richard Owen at the British Museum — an entirely false allegation that was completely (and independently) refuted by a letter from Owen, received by Bennett in late June 1874, in which Owen "acknowledged receiving [the fossil specimen] in good order"[207] — and, even, condoning the sale of pornographic postcards.[60] The (fifty to sixty) postcards in question, "some of which were of the most indecent character" (which had been "seen" by one of the trustees "in the workshop of the Museum") had been copied entirely without Krefft's knowledge or consent, by the museum employees (and Krefft's subordinates) taxidermist/photographer Robert Barnes and his brother Henry Barnes.[208]

"[In these matters] I am only one against many and you know that law is expensive and only made for the rich. Had I been an Englishman by birth, had I humbugged people, attended at Church, and spread knowledge on the principle that the God of Moses and of the Prophets made "little apples",[211] I would have gained the day, but [as] a true believer in [your] theory of developement [sic] I am hounded down in this [Paradise] of Bushrangers’ of rogues, Cheats, and Vagabonds". — Krefft to Charles Darwin, 22 October 1874, seeking Darwin's support.[212]

Krefft subsequently brought an action, in November 1874, to recover £2,000 damages for trespass and assault against one of the trustees, Edward Smith Hill,[213][196] and "the jury, after a short deliberation, found a verdict for the plaintiff, with £250 for damages".[196] The judge (Justice Alfred Cheeke) held that Krefft was a superior officer under government, and that no one had power to remove him but the governor with the advice of the executive council.[214]

In 1876 — with John Robertson (rather than Henry Parkes) as Premier — the New South Wales parliament passed a vote of £1,000 to be applied in satisfaction of Krefft's claims.[215][216][217] The Government refused to pay unless Krefft renounced all other claims, which Krefft refused to do. He sued the trustees for his medals and property, and was awarded £925. They offered to return his belongings with only £200.[218] He was declared insolvent in 1880.[219]

Krefft was:

• A Fellow of the Linnean Society in London.[61]
• A Master and Honorary Member of the Freies Deutsches Hochstift (Free German Foundation) at Frankfurt am Main.[61]
• A Member of the Société Humanitaire et Scientifique du Sud-Ouest de la France (Humanitarian and Scientific Society of the Southwest of France), the Imperial and Royal Geological Society of Austro-Hungary in Vienna, the Royal Geographical Society of Dresden; Royal Society of New South Wales, and the Royal Society of Tasmania.[61]
• A Corresponding Member of the Zoological Society of London,[61] the Senckenberg Nature Research Society of Frankfurt am Main,[61] and the "Society of Scientific Naturalists in Hamburg".[241]

• In 1869, the Cross of the Order of the Crown of Italy was conferred upon Krefft by Victor Emmanuel II, "in token of his Majesty's appreciation of Mr. Krefft's services in the cause of science".[242]
• He received a gold medal from the Government of New South Wales "for services rendered".[61]
• He held "a silver medal for exhibits from the Emperor of the French, and ... various other silver and bronze medals awarded in the colony".[61]
• He was awarded "the honorary degree of Doctor of Philosophy".[243]

Krefft was a member of many scientific societies, and contributed papers to the Proceedings of the Zoological Society of London and other scientific and popular journals, some of which were also printed separately as pamphlets. For a comprehensive, chronological list (of more than 150 of his contributions), see Whitley (1958, pp. 25–34), with some later additions and modifications to that list at Whitley (1969, pp. 39–42); also, see Mahoney & Ride (1975, pp. 197–215).