After his death, historians and biographers have fixated on this information, and for the most part have portrayed him solely as “a woman who dressed like a man” to pursue a medical career. However, it is likely (as we cannot sadly ask James himself) that he was in fact a trans man. His life, and the case of his representation in history, is important to the history of queer and trans stories throughout history, particularly in the history of western sciences.

An article in the Journal of Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh confirms through forensic analysis of letters many details of James Barry’s earlier life. He was born under the name Margaret Bulkley in Cork, in 1789 and the first records of James going by his new and permanent name was in late November 1809, at 20 years old. This was when he travelled to Edinburgh with his mother, who he generally referred to as his aunt, to begin medical studies. He never used the name Margaret Bulkley again, except in a few early letters to seemingly remind a few close family friends who knew of his name and gender change, who he was. One such letter was signed “James Barry” but with Miss Bulkley on the envelope.

In an article for the Science History Institute, Rebecca Ortenberg writes about the misrepresentation of Barry as a woman “masquerading” as a man. She compares the differences between Barry, who lived from early in his life to his death fully as a man, to cases where women (or at least people who at the time identified as women who also may have been trans) chose to dress as men and take male names temporarily for practical reasons to get jobs, education, or safe passage and travel. She discusses the case of Jeanne Baret, an 18^th century botanist who joined her male partner and fellow botanist on a scientific expedition when he was hired on the ship as a “plant collector.” She dressed in men’s clothes, went by the name Jean, and became her partner’s “assistant” until the end of the job where she was discovered, and the two were kicked off the boat in Mauritius. The two got married there and she continued pursuing botany, but chose to lead the rest of her life in society “as a woman.” Ortenburg points out the difference between the two cases - one person hiding their identity and gender temporarily for practical professional and personal relationship reasons, and one who lived the majority of their life as one gender until their death. Often historians and biographers grapple with representing historical figures who “cross-dress,” not knowing the details if the person was trans or not and aiming to use the names and pronouns the person would have hopefully wanted to have represent them. However, Orterburg states, “in sharp contrast, Barry’s story presents no such ambiguity…Barry never returned to his previous name and never presented as a woman again, living both publicly and privately as a man, signing his letters as a gentleman, and using male pronouns to describe himself.”