The Chinese Market Gardeners of St. George District

by Gifford and Eileen Eardley


Disclaimer: Please be aware that this article contains potentially inappropriate language or ideas. The SGHS does not in anyway endorse or condone discrimination of any kind.
While some of this content may have been considered appropriate at the time of publication, we now recognise that it may contribute to harms.
We have decided to keep this content available as part of the historical record. However, this decision may be reviewed in the future.


The search for gold in Australia during the eighteen-fifties and later brought a great number of Chinese people, mostly from the southern provinces of that fascinating land, to seek their fortunes in this our wonderful continent. With the passing of the years and the petering out of the gold resources many of the Celestials returned to their homeland, some rich materially, others rich in experience. However, many elected to remain, and found a living in market gardening and the manufacture of furniture. These industries were financed by the more wealthy members of their community, who sought out avenues for the employment of their brethren. To this end the various market gardens farmed by Europeans along the fertile bottoms of Wolli Creek and Muddy Creek, and as far afield as Scarborough Park and Blakehurst were, with few exceptions acquired, and the houses on these properties were occupied by the employees of the new owners. In other instances it was necessary to erect small cottages in the cheapest possible fashion, built from such secondhand material as was readily available, and designed in principle to give shelter from wind and rain. These shanties were purely functional in every way and had no architectural pretentious They were built without levels or plumb-lines, and always in a glorious higgledy-piggledy fashion.

It has been truly said that beauty is only in the eye of the beholder, but the authors must confess that the not so obvious charms associated with what may be regarded as the Chinese huts of yesteryear have not escaped their admiring notice. This primitive style of architecture follows no fixed order or design and was solely dictated by the material at hand, covering the length of available tree trunks for uprights, and also the lengths of galvanised iron sheets obtainable at the lowest possible cost. A communal living room with its wide open fireplace at one side was essential for the general wellbeing of the community, whilst off this were ranged a number of smaller chambers providing sleeping accommodation, each with its tiny casement window for lighting. Ceiling heights were low, perhaps about seven feet, and ofttimes unlined, a fine view of the interior roof timbers with a glimpse of the blue sky far above through badly fitting sheets of iron often being a reward for those who like just these things.

Sam Hop’s residence, Eve St, Arncliffe

Strangely enough, although extremely primitive in its concept, the main living room was very snug, and was certainly well lived in. The little casement window, which usually opened outward, often had a covering of chaff bag material nailed along the lintel, an arrangement which to a certain extent kept out the all pervading houseflies and mosquitoes, but one missed any attempt at beautification, and colour of any shade was a missing refinement, The glow of the small fire of sticks burning on the hearth, surrounded by sundry cooking pots, some dangling above the flames on pieces of wire, was the very heart of the indoor scene and gave an air of comfort to an otherwise somewhat cheerless existence.

Mother earth formed the floor of these abodes in some instances and was kept in a reasonably dry condition by the presence of a narrow open ditch which ran around the outside of the external walling. Beds, chairs, and tables etc. were generally purchased cheaply and call for little comment, being of the standard type. Floors were invariably well swept and the place, apart from cupboards, had a lining of favourite hoes, pitch-forks with either two or three sharp pointed prongs, spades, and other accoutrements essential to the market gardener.

Adjacent to the roughly built horse and cart stable was the large manure heap, a mass of pungent bedding straw and other unmentionable commodities, which, when well spread and dug in, gave fertility to the soil. Nearby was the evil smelling “Loo”, with its surround of broad-leafed castor-oil trees for shade, shelter, and privacy. At times the shanty was placed within a girdle of ailanthus trees, which have a religious significance for Chinese people, and are known by them as “The Tree of Heaven”. The presence of these trees around any area is usually the sign of onetime Chinese occupancy. The construction of the “Loo” would have made a modern sanitationist’s hair stand on end. A rough framework of upright poles supported the side and back walls of galvanised iron, and in most cases the pleasures of a roof were missing. The so useful chaff-bag, suspended from the front top crossbar of the doorway by a row of nails, gave a front covering to good effect. Health inspectors have been known to express disapproval of the little out-house and its internal arrangement. A flower garden of any description was a missing refinement, although the shrub bearing a large white pungent-smelling trumpet shaped flower was occasionally to be seen together with a sprinkling of tiny mauve coloured opium poppies. This latter plant has disappeared nowadays from these former haunts of the men from China, but an occasional bloom may be seen at times around the low-lying lands of Arncliffe.

The absence of dogs around the place was noticeable, the animals by all accounts being more noted for their culinary propensities. However some gardens kept several skinny specimens chained up to act as watch-dogs against vegetable thieves. There were always plenty of cats who eked out a living from the mouse tribes frequenting the stables. The cats had fur coats which showed a wondrous range of colour, from pure black, off white, to ginger and grey. They were not domesticated to any extent and did not court friendship in any way.

Leading from the always crazily constructed entrance gateway at the street alignment, a three furrowed pathway led to the house and around to its packing shed and stables. The two wheel ruts were often surfaced with dead reeds, or with leather scraps which were obtained gratis from the boot and shoe factories, thus tending to bind the sandy track together, whilst the centre track, between the narrow grass verges, was devoted to the path of the horse and was generally left in rough condition to give better hoof grip. Along the route of the path, on both sides, was a rank growth of grass intermingled with weeds and herbs of various distinctions, each of interest to a botanist and each a botanical wonder in its own particular way.

Essentially agriculturist way back into the dim past, it was a pleasure to meet these kindly Chinese people. They worked hard and lived hard, their only pleasures would appear to be an occasional trip of a weekend to see their compatriots in the Haymarket or Waterloo area, where, in some instances, they enjoyed a quiet pipe of opium, thereby gaining relaxation from the rigours of everyday life, or played Fan-tan, a gambling entertainment which often led them, in batches, to the local police courts and a subsequent fine. Women folk of their own nationality were few and far between, and perhaps with one exception, appeared to be a missing disturbing element in the normal tranquil life of the Chinese community of St. George.

The usual everyday attire of the gardeners consisted of somewhat baggy pants of much soiled blue denim with a loose shirt worn outside the trousers. When the sun was hot a huge wide-brimmed hat, with a low crown, gave facial protection, the same cane head-gear was also used in the rain, together with a thick cornsack over the shoulders, while a cape of long ribbon-like grass, dried to a light yellow shade, has also been noticed. Everyday ablutions were usually carried out under the shade of the open verandah, extension of the hutment, where a four-legged stool of sorts held the enamel dish of water, and a tin sufficed to hold the household soap. The towel, in common use, was strung out to dry either on the nearest convenient bush, or draped over a piece of cord tied between the verandah posts. It was all very elementary, but evidently very satisfactory for the needs of John Chinaman.

The boundary fence of the average Chinese garden consisted of a post and rail fence, a carryover in most cases from the former European ownership of the market garden. This fence and its immediate vicinity was a sort of no-man’s land where flourished unhindered a wild unkempt hedge of blackberries intermixed with pink and white lantana canes, a prickly unapproachable mass of foliage which afforded shelter to a multitude of small birds such as Zebra Finches, Blue-wrens, Redheads, Silver-eyes, and the humble but cheeky house sparrow.

The vegetable gardens were always well-tilled, each a model of rectangular rectitude. Ploughs were not used and every inch of the arable land was industriously dug over by fork or spade. Each plant was kept in its row and straight alignment, and between each row was a narrow watering footpath, kept absolutely free from weeds of any kind. Weeding the beds was a never ending occupation and a backbreaking chore to say the least. It was carried on regardless of weather conditions. Another never ending job was the watering of the vegetable plants per medium of a pair of large capacity watering cans, each slung from the end of a stout wooden shoulder yoke. Here and there amongst the vegetable beds was a water pond, about twelve feet in diameter, which collected the drainage from the various paths and conserved it for future use. A single plank served these wells, which permitted the gardener to enter a short distance below the surface of the water and thus fill his cans with a minimum of effort. There was always a spread of duckweed floating on the pond and also a congregation of yellow and bronze-green frogs who found conditions suitable for their tranquil existence, free from interference unless, perchance, a heron or a white egret discovered their hideout.

The varied market garden produce was usually taken by horse drawn two-wheeled carts to the City Vegetable Markets, the vehicles leaving the yard at a very early hour, and after the disposal of the wares to the wholesalers, a call was made, in a cleansing capacity, at the various stables where a return load of straw and manure was gathered. The fertility of the soil and its high productivity was maintained by this constant enrichment of otherwise waste products. Another source of vegetable disposal was the local round to nearby residents per medium of a pair of wickerwork carrying baskets of semi-circular shape, one of which dangled by cords from either end of a nicely tapered shoulder yoke. One of the oldtime sights of Rockdale was to see John Chinaman jogging along with his fully loaded baskets, calling here and there to his numerous customers, most of whom were gratefully thanked at Christmastime by a present of a large green glazed jar of preserved ginger, said jars nowadays being eagerly sought after by collectors of such bric-a-brac.

In the early nineteen-hundreds, at weekends and holidays, the market gardeners reaped a harvest of money at Brighton le Sands where they foregathered at the terminal of Saywells Tramway. Here they awaited the picnicking crowds and did a roaring trade in tomatoes, lettuce, and cucumbers, all bright and fresh for eating at the picnic lunch in Shady Nook, or on the sands of the then wonderful beach. There was also a regular system of customer rounds made on a larger scale by horse drawn carts from which fruit was sold in addition to garden produce. An opened cornsack was spread-eagled beneath the cart with cords radiating to the four corners of the vehicle. Ensconced within the sacking were potatoes, onions and swede turnips, items which would not be seriously affected by road dust and grime.

It is of interest to recall the location of these fertile Chinese market gardens, as most of them, under the lack of wise planning, have been given over to factory sites, or have lath fallow because their leases have expired. The production of essential green foodstuffs for an ever-growing city community is obviously regarded as being of secondary importance in municipal circles.

Commencing from the north-eastern portion of the Rockdale Municipality, in the vicinity of the Cooks River Bridge, we would have found the first of these old gardens off the eastern side of Illawarra Street, the growing area being bisected by the magnificent brick sewer viaduct which spans the low-lying area, at one time a tidal marsh, and also the small creek which spills down from what might be regarded as the Wollongong Road Valley. The southern fence of the garden property, a rickety post and rail affair, followed the alignment of Allen Street, Arncliffe. The garden house was a low pitched galvanised iron cottage of rambling disposition, intermixed with shaky packing sheds, cart-sheds, and stables, and surrounded by the inevitable castor-oil trees set off by occasional clumps of the feathery plumed pampas grass. A row of New Zealand flax plants was also in evidence, the spiky leaves of which were torn into thin strips for the binding of spinach, carrots, parsnips, and swede turnips. It was a picturesque assembly of primitive buildings of all sorts, sizes, and shapes, although comfortable withal it was a group that would not be sanctioned by present day over-bearing building regulations. Unfortunately in recent years this garden has been replaced by a number of factories and foundries and little if anything remains to mark the site of the one time fertile growing area, even the creek has been channelled to discharge through brick lined walls and the water-rats are no more.

The house of Mow Sang, West Botany St, Arncliffe

Tracing our footsteps along the old Arncliffe Road and entering the Valley of Wolli Creek the first and now long abandoned Chinese garden was Pine Farm, occupying the site of the junction of the East Hills Railway. The position of the former cottage is still marked by a lovely American Magnolia tree, which flourishes against the railway signal-box. Immediately north of the junction, on the salt marsh bordering Wolli Creek, is a large patch of Autumn Crocus displaying a mass of dainty white bell-shaped flowers in season.

Continuing on our way in a westerly direction, and passing beneath the huge sewer viaduct, the old road reached a second garden placed on the site now occupied by the National Cash Register Company. Later than 1901 the industrious Chinese lived in the small brick built Primitive Methodist Church, then no longer in use for worship. This edifice was on the garden property and was quickly surrounded by packing sheds and stables of typical Chinese design. Then came a small garden which was located on the former Reuben Hannam grant adjacent to the water splash of Arncliffe Road across Wolli Creek, This garden was fringed along its road border by a grove of lofty age-old Pinus Insignus trees and Weeping willows and Casuarinas grew thickly along the banks of the creek. The double-frontaged weatherboard cottage was obviously one of the Hudson “Ready-built” type. The garden has long been abandoned and factories now occupy the site.

Crossing the footbridge over Wolli Creek the road passed between two market gardens, that on the south lying within the bend of Wolli Creek, and its quaint little cottage, flanked by coral trees, was on higher ground nestling beneath the rocky escarpment of Nanny-goat Hill. The northern garden was once distinguished by two tall Norfolk Island Pine trees and a grove of white-flowered acacia trees. There was the usual conglomeration of small buildings of various sorts and sizes, one being noted for its galvanised-iron roof, the sheets on the south side overlapping at the top by some three feet those set on the northern side of the building. Successive floodings of Wolli Creek in the nineteen-thirties wiped out both gardens, consequently their distinctive cottages as well as the Pine trees were demolished. Their lands, still subject to flooding, are still vacant and covered with reeds. A large “dipping” pond still remains, full of tiny fish, and sheltered by scarlet flowered coral trees.

Retracing our steps and proceeding eastward along. Arncliffe Road, and from thence into Princes Highway, we cross over to Marsh Street and come to the former vegetable farm of Thomas Beehag. This small garden, now operated by Chinese people, is still in production and its collection of buildings are assembled together in a discarded section of Marsh Street, The garden is bordered by a thick hedge of wildlings and is most picturesque. Also on the former William Beehag’s property, but ranged against the lower northern side of Eve Street, Arncliffe, was another garden, complete with a Chinese built cottage and outhouses of wondrous design, flanked by a dense cluster of Camphor Laurel trees intermixed with Castor-oil trees. One particular end-gabled out-house had its galvanised-iron roof about one foot higher at one end than the other, giving rather an unusual effect but what can one do without a level. This garden has long been abandoned, although the buildings, in derelict condition, remain, together with the splendid trees. A small allotment, without any housing arrangement was located on the southern side of Eve Street, immediately opposite the last mentioned garden, but it too has been abandoned.

The residence of Sing War, West Botany St, Banksia

Reverting to West Botany Street and going, in a southerly direction we reach Spring Street, on the southern side of which once lay the extensive gardening property of William Beehag. This rich bottom land was leased to a number of Chinese gardeners and at least two groups had their residences placed thereon. The westernmost was the usual conglomeration of buildings, whilst that on the east was built of brick and was a single room wide. This place was featureless, but distinguished at times by a smelly row of fish, pegged by their tails on to a clothes line, drying in the sun. On the eastern side of West Botany Street, opposite to the intersection of Spring Street, were two other gardens, the southernmost still being in occupation, its housing clustered on higher land at the southern end and flanked by the ubiquitous Coral trees.

Turning into Bestic Street and crossing Muddy Creek Bridge the former farms owned by the Goode brothers are now cultivated by Chinese who live in the original farmhouses ranged along the length of Occupation Road. It is believed that large quantities of shallots are grown on these fertile acres which are hounded on their western side by the mangrove fringed Muddy Creek. There was another garden located near the northern end and on the western side of Francis Avenue. The weatherboard residence was rectangular in shape, devoid of paint, gaunt, and unadorned.

Retracing our steps to West Botany Street and proceeding southwards we reach the former property of Mr. Wilson whose house is claimed to be the first cottage built in the Rockdale area. This edifice still stands in good condition and its garden nowadays is cultivated by Chinese people. Across Muddy Creek Bridge, south of the former Napper property, now occupied by the Elizabethan Bowling Club, was another garden of which little is known. Chinese also farmed the section of land on the western side of West Botany Street between Muddy Creek and Bay Street. There were two market gardens on the southern side of Bay Street, one either side of the James Street intersection, their sites being now occupied by modern suburban residences.

We now adjoin to the Princes Highway where a fine vegetable garden once flourished on the property, so it is understood, of the Skidmore Family, but later by a team of Chinese gardeners who resided in a slab built humpy at the north-western corner of the land. Although a post and rail fence bordered this property on its northern side a hedge of wild growth, intermixed with a line of tall Pinus Insignus trees lined a trickling stream on the western side, said creek flowing from the Frederick Street area at Rockdale. The bank of Muddy Creek on the southern side was covered with a dense impenetrable mass of lantana, whilst on the eastern frontage along the alignment of Princes Highway, the old post and rail fence was covered with masses of the orange flowered Buddleia. The Skidmore homestead, of three small buildings built of brick, was against the main road on the southern side of Muddy Creek and was always occupied by Europeans. The humpy mentioned above conformed in every way to the description given in the early part of this essay.

Against the eastern side of the Princes Highway, on the site now occupied by the Southside Plaza, was an extensive garden at first farmed by Samuel Schofield, and later by the Reuter family. In recent years this land was in the hands of the Chinese, likewise the neighbouring Twiss garden further to the east, At the corner of Moore Street (now an extension of West Botany Street) and President Avenue was another small garden of later vintage, the little residence, now derelict, being constructed of fibrolite sheets. Passing beyond the old Moorefield Racecourse area to Toomevara Street, Kogarah, the vegetable farm originally owned by James Beehag is nowadays cultivated by a Chinese lady with the help of her compatriots. The house is of brick and almost obscured by a huge packing shed. The southernmost farm in what may be regarded as the Pat Moores Swamp area nestles beneath the eastern face of Clarkes Hill at Ramsgate and is bordered on its eastern side by the boundary fence of Scarborough Park. The residence is low and squat and built of galvanised iron and both it and the adjoining garden are maintained in excellent order.

We now cross over Clark’s Hill in a westerly direction to gain the flat lands at the head of Kogarah Bay. Here the early farms of John Carrol and James English came into Chinese hands and were assiduously cultivated. Then onwards to Blakehurst where there was another Chinese garden on the shallow northern slopes leading downward to Kogarah Bay Creek, Much of this land has been subdivided in recent years for housing requirements. At the north-eastern corner of the junction of the old Kogarah Road with Woniora Road at Blakehurst there was a wide expanse of garden, the southern outpost so to speak, where the Chinamen resided in a little brick building clear of the vegetable plots and facing towards Woniora Road, A little while ago the garden was reclaimed as a playing field while the erstwhile cottage has been demolished.

No more will we hear the jingle of harness on the road and the steady plod-plodding of the horses as they passed on their way to and from the city markets. The old order has passed and the motor age, with its crazy desire for speed, has come to stay. Scanning over the long list of local market gardens one reaches the conclusion that the greater part of the arable land came into the hands of the men from China. These lands were taken over, in their productive stage, from European ownership, after the pioneering work had been accomplished, the marsh lands drained, and the encroaching forest felled. The pioneers first grubbed and tilled the garden beds with their hand tools and excavated the numerous watering ponds. They erected their primitive houses, barns, and stables, from such materials which came readily to hand. Theirs was a hard life of unremitting toil and it is quite understandable that these people should have sold, at presumably satisfactory prices, to the Orientals, particularly when the bank depression years of the early eighteen-eighties so sadly hit the fortunes of the community at large. The industrious Chinese, with their frugal habits, and so few needs, weathered the financial storm and their gardens became widely known as “The Vegetable Bowl of Sydney”. It is unfortunate that so few of these gardens remain in production.

The authors trust that they have graphically presented a short history, covering most if not all of the market gardens, and what may be tersely regarded as the Chinese invasion of the Land District of Eastern St. George.

This article was first published in the December 1970 edition of our magazine.

April 1999: The Arncliffe, Kyeemagh, and Toomevara Lane Chinese Market Gardens were added to the New South Wales State Heritage Register.

Browse the magazine archive.

Lydham Hall

This article was first published in the December 1970 edition of our magazine.

I am sure members will be pleased to learn that, during last month, Rockdale Council completed the purchase of Lydham Hall. This old home in Lydham Avenue, Bexley, is to be used as an historical museum where items of interest may be displayed for all to see.

Photograph by Joan Hatton (courtesy Georges River Libraries Local Studies Collection)

Whilst the Council has assumed responsibility for the restoration and maintenance of the outside of the building, our Society has undertaken to restore and furnish the interior. This work has already been commenced, and some members have spent recent Saturday afternoons in painting ceilings and walls, and cleaning the cedar woodwork so that the timber may be restored to its original condition.

The task of restoring a home 115 years old calls for a lot of patient work, and we are in need of assistance from all members who are able to help. This help may take a number of forms – by spending a few hours either mid-week or at week-ends in cleaning timber, assisting the ladies committee to raise funds, or by giving or lending furniture and items for eventual display. Any assistance members may give would be greatly appreciated.

Lydham Hall, Lydham Avenue, Rockdale (courtesy Bayside Library)

D. H. Sinclair

President

Browse the magazine archive.

Some Excerpts from “A History Of Carlton”

A Railway Is Built

Early in the 1860’s agitation commenced along the southern coastal district for improved means to transport the rich produce of the area to markets in Sydney. The small ships plying the coastal trade were both irregular and unreliable and the long, bad road was a nightmare. To ensure the development of the coal industry along the Illawarra coast, some speedy, efficient and reliable form of transport became necessary.

As a result of this agitation, added to the weight of economic factors, a number of trial surveys were begun in 1873 and continued for some years. It was intended to link the area with Sydney by means of a railway which was to cross Georges River by bridge and embankment at Rocky Point. This proved impossible owing to the difficulty in finding the bottom of the river. Successive governments baulked at the prospect of bridging rivers and constructing tracks on the sides of mountains and it was not until the late 1870’s that the scheme was finally tackled.

The Public Works Act of 1881 authorised the raising of £1,020,000 for the construction of the first section of the railway to Kiama. Tenders were called for the first portion in September, 1882. The date for completion as far as Hurstville was September 30, 1884.

Work commenced almost immediately and local residents soon had all doubts removed as to what route the railway would follow.

Alexander Milsop (courtesy Bayside Library)

“The effect of the coming of the railway on the landholders of the district was electric. The people became land mad and the great land boom of the eighties got under way. Land values rose enormously and a steady influx of new purchasers became evident. Farms were either subdivided and sold in allotments or purchased by building societies for subdivision”.

Nowhere was this better exemplified than in the area upon which our story centres. Early in 1881, Alexander Milsop sold his orchard in Willison Road to John Cliff. The price paid, £2,565, was nearly five times what Milsop had bought it for only seven years before. In June the same year, Cliff sold the land to Dr. C. F. Fischer for £3,465. The following year it again changed hands for £5,850 when William Kingscote, a Tamworth farmer, bought it from Fischer.

Kingscote also purchased the adjoining 34 acres which had originally belonged to James Swaine but which had passed to Patrick McMahon and later to the Keane Brothers of Murrurrundi. The price paid for this land was £7,000.

The intersection of Carlton Parade and Willison Road, Carlton, 1894 (courtesy Bayside Library)

With the railway already under construction, Kingscote sold his combined holdings to Robert Doyle on July 17, 1884 for the staggering price of £25,858 and only a few hours later it passed into the hands of the Enterprise Land and Building Company Ltd. for £27,535.

Thus, in the space of four years, land worth only a few hundred pounds became worth tens of thousands.

This was the plan used to advertise the auction held on 18th October 1884 to sell lots of land in the Hurstville Heights Estate, Bexley. The following streets are shown on the plan: Forest Road; Glenfarne Street; Forest Street (now Wood Street); and Brownes Road (now Willison Road). Lewis Street is also shown on the plan although it is not named. (courtesy Bayside Library)

The Railway Is Opened

On Wednesday, October 15, 1884, the railway as far as Hurstville was declared open and a special train left Sydney at 10.30 a.m. carrying the Hon. F. A. Wright, Minister for Works, and party who deputised for Premier Alexander Stuart. Stuart had been laid low with a stroke, but sent his good wishes and an assurance that the work had been undertaken for the benefit of the Colony as a whole and not, despite libellous accusations to the contrary, because he owned considerable areas of land through which the line passed.

The stations along the line were decked with flags and floral displays, bands played, speeches were made, toasts were drunk, refreshments indulged in and a regatta held on the Georges River.

Local residents gave vent to their emotions by gathering in small knots along the track and vigorously waving their handkerchiefs in salutation as the official train passed.

Reporters spoke of beautiful undulating country with occasional glimpses of the water and the fading lines of dim hills which presented scenes of the most picturesque description.

A Municipality Is Born

Soon after the opening of the Railway in 1884 moves were made for the incorporation of Hurstville as a municipal borough. Rockdale, or as it was then called, West Botany, had been incorporated as early as 1871. In 1885 Kogarah was granted municipal status.

George Perry was one of the pioneer settlers of Bexley. Perrys Avenue is named after him. (courtesy Bayside Library)

This prompted two prominent Hurstville residents, Joseph Walker Bibby and Lochrin Tiddy to take up a petition to have Hurstville similarly incorporated. Tiddy was the retired headmaster of Hurstville School while Bibby was a well known Sydney company secretary and auditor and man of very substantial means. He had settled at the corner of Forest Road and Webber’s Road in the early 80’s on land formerly owned by George Perry. Here he built a fine home distinguished by its “fire-extinguisher” tower from which magnificent views of the surrounding country could be obtained. The grounds were beautifully laid out with ornamental shrubs whilst a wide lawn lay between the house and Forest Road. In later years one of Bibby’s daughters became Lady Riddell, wife of an early Governor of the Commonwealth Bank.

On March 28, 1887, the Hurstville Municipality was proclaimed and the first Municipal Election held at the Blue Post Inn on June 15, the same year. Lochrin Tiddy acted as returning officer. The results of this election are of interest —

Elected:

Alexander MilsopCapitalist244
H. PatrickCapitalist222
W. J. HumphreyContractor217
A. E. GannonCapitalist193
J. PeakeFarmer189
H. P. TidswellMerchant187
J. W. BibbyAccountant177
M. McRaeLanded Proprietor167
C. HowardCapitalist165

The unsuccessful candidates were —

D. J. McLeanMerchant Salesman162
W.C. CorbettFruitgrower157
H. KinselaLandowner129
D.J. TreacyProduce Merchant117
H. RobertsBuilder91
W.E. PaineCarpenter73
W. HardenStonemason62
R. WilsonContractor57

Carlton’s representatives met with mixed success. Former Carlton resident, Alexander Milsop, who topped the poll, was elected Hurstville’s first mayor. Joseph Bibby, not surprisingly, was also elected to the Council but William Harden and Robert Wilson finished at the bottom of the poll.

Map of the proposed Municipality of Hurstville, showing part of Bexley, mid 1880s (courtesy Bayside Library)

Carlton subsequently became part of the Bexley Ward, by far the most closely settled of the three Wards which went to make up the new municipality, and it is reported that between 1887 and 1890 Bexley Ward increased in population by some 469 souls and numbered 363 houses, 13 shops and one hotel, the vast majority of which were clustered in small groups around the station at Carlton or along Webber’s Road.

Rumblings Of Discontent

James William Larbalestier was the first Mayor of Bexley Council (courtesy Bayside Library)

As early as March, 1901, the residents of Carlton began to have grave misgivings about the advantages of their newly won Municipal status. The progress and reforms which they had been promised showed no signs of eventuating. The Council was experiencing severe financial difficulties; what few improvements were made, had been provided in Bexley and the kindly J. W. Larbalestier appeared to be a tool in the hands of the “Bexley Clique” as they sweltered over their problems in the oppressive summer of 1901. It was about this time that moves were made to build Bexley’s Town Hall at Carlton — a move which was probably influenced more by the presence of reasonable means of refreshment than by geographical convenience. The Council continued to meet, however, by the light of a kerosene lamp in the school room of the Rev. C.J. Forscutt’s Rockdale College in Gladstone Street, Bexley.

A protest meeting of ratepayers in Grant’s Hall presided over by Mr. W. Wiseman was assured that all was well but the great majority remained sceptical. The three worst problems were the water-course which ran under Short Street and Webber’s Road, known as the West Kogarah Drain, which was the favourite dumping ground for everything from discarded mattresses to discarded horses; the inadequate rail facilities both at the Station and on the trains and, of course, the straying stock which wreaked havoc on the gardens and nurseries which abounded in the area. One Council correspondent, Charles H. Everson, complained of being attacked by a stray cow in Mill Street. Another had run over a goat in Carlton Parade, “breaking his cart” and “receiving an injury” to himself.

At last it was decided to prevail upon the redoubtable J. G. Griffin to take up the cudgels on Carlton’s behalf.

John George Griffin

John George Griffin served as an alderman on Bexley Council from 1902 to 1923. He was Mayor of Bexley in 1909. (courtesy Bayside Library)

Of all the people who have lived in Carlton since the opening of the railway, none was as outstanding a personality as Griffin.

John George Griffin was born in Richmond, Victoria, in 1846. He was educated in England and at an early age entered the service of the Great Western Railway Company where he qualified as a civil engineer and surveyor. He was engaged for two years on railway construction work in Bulgaria and Romania. Returning to Australia in 1867, he settled in Portland, Victoria, for a time as shire engineer. Later he came to Sydney where he set up in business as a surveyor being the principal of the firm of J. G. Griffin and Harrison, Surveyors. At one time he served as supervising engineer on the extension of the Great Northern Railway in N.S.W. He settled in Carlton in 1890 and in 1893 was elected to the Hurstville Council where his abrupt manner and an inability to suffer fools brought him into immediate conflict with his colleagues. For three stormy years, 1893, 1894 and again in 1898, he was Mayor of that Municipality. In 1896 he was the centre of a minor controversy. Having secured an overhead footbridge for the Station at Carlton, he refused to use it, continuing to walk across the railway lines in defiance of a notice he himself had erected forbidding it.

At the memorable Municipal Election of 1899 Griffin was strongly challenged in the Bexley Ward by Mr. W.H. Wicks, of “Dundry”, Ocean (now Verdun) Street. Wicks had the backing of such influential figures as Frederick Grant and John Cooper and wont to considerable pains to point out that Mayor Griffin had spent the entire coming year’s income of the Council without authority. Griffin, however, mobilised the resources of the Council to his side, using Council-paid employees as his scrutineers inside the booths and as his agents outside as well as employing them to drive known Griffin supporters to the polls in Council owned conveyances. Whilst the ethics of his actions could possibly be challenged, the success could not. From the time of his arrival in Sydney, Griffin had lived at “Thalinga”, No. 91 Mill Street, Carlton, yet he was for a period an alderman and Mayor of the Manly Council. He served five terms as an alderman of the Sydney City Council between 1900 and 1915 and for over 20 years he represented the Suburban Municipalities on the Metropolitan Board of Water Supply and Sewerage. He was the first elected President of the Municipal Association which later became the Local Government Association and was a member from its inception. He was a strong supporter of the Free Trade Party and unsuccessfully sought election to the State Parliament for the seats of Hawkesbury and Marrickville. He once opposed Sir Henry Parkes for a city seat. He was an ardent advocate of a Greater Sydney scheme and was a pioneer of better working conditions for Council employees.

When the Borough of Bexley was formed he had been a candidate for the first Council, but had not been elected.

Such was the calibre of the man who was now called upon to plead Carlton’s case.

At the Municipal Election of 1902 Griffin topped the poll and almost immediately, the fireworks began. Griffin was a caustic critic whose utterances often stirred up angry feelings. He so harried the Bexley selected Mayor, Henry Watson Harradence, over the state of the West Kogarah Drain, the dangerous pedestrian crossing across the railway line from Gray Street Kogarah to Guinea Street and the unsatisfactory local safeguards against the outbreak of bubonic plague then assailing waterfront areas of the city, that Harradence attempted to silence Griffin by pointed and repeated references to “The Chain Letter Scandal”.

The Chain Letter Scandal

At a packed public meeting, held on May 30, 1902, at the Royal Hotel, Griffin made the following explanation.

In 1895, whilst a member of the Board of the St. George Cottage Hospital, he had read in the London Times a letter advocating the use of chain letters for charitable appeals – each letter to contain ten postage stamps which would subsequently be sold. He had suggested to his 17 year old daughter, Audrey, that this would be an excellent way to raise money for a much needed children’s ward at the hospital.

It was hoped to raise £25 in this way which, with the government subsidy of £1 for £1, would contribute £50 towards the appeal. The scheme was not only a spectacular success but soon got completely out of hand. Hundreds of letters arrived daily at the Griffin home in Mill Street from places as far away as England, America and the Continent. After £64 had been contributed to the hospital Griffin decided his daughter could no longer cope and he put on a man to handle the matter at his office in the Equitable Building in the City. When the £64 was handed to the hospital committee they refused to devote it towards the erection of a children’s ward.

The home of Bexley alderman J. G. Griffin, Mill Street, Carlton (courtesy Bayside Library)

Griffin thereupon refused to hand over any more money and protracted legal manoeuvres ensued. Finally, Griffin resigned from the hospital board and wiped his hands of the whole matter.

Ugly rumours persisted that Griffin had used the money for his own purposes and a Royal Commission was demanded. Griffin denied making money from the venture, producing evidence to show that all money received after the initial payment of £64, had been taken up in wages and legal fees.

Griffin was accorded an overwhelming vote of confidence whilst Harradence was greeted with cries of derision. One persistently noisy interjector was flattened by the editor of the “St. George’s Advocate” who was having difficulty in hearing Griffin’s explanation.

Round Two

Having failed to discredit Griffin in this manner, Harradence adopted a ruse that was as clumsy as it was petty.

Henry W. Harradence and family (courtesy Bayside Library)

After the minutes of the Council Meeting of September 29, 1902, had been confirmed, Harradence privately instructed the Council Clerk, Hector Wearne, to insert a motion in Griffin’s name to the effect that all persons owing £2 or more in rates were to be prosecuted. Times were still hard – particularly in Carlton and the Council received many requests during these years from insolvent ratepayers to work out their rates.

Griffin indignantly denied having moved such a motion – pointing out that he had not even been at the meeting on the night he was supposed to have moved it. Harradence, realising his folly, then tried to erase the motion with acid but succeeded only in making several large holes in the pages of the Minute Book.

There then followed three stormy meetings.

At the first, Griffin, backed by a cheering gallery of Carlton residents, demanded the resignation of Harradence as Mayor. This motion was carried with Harradence as the sole dissentient – even his Bexley colleagues could not countenance this action.

Then Griffin demanded an explanation from the Council Clerk. Much against Griffin’s wish it was decided to hear this explanation in closed Council. The packed gallery was understandably upset. Griffin was beside himself with rage. He swooped down on the one and only copy of the Council by-laws, rolled them into a ball and threw them at J. W. Larbalestier, who had replaced Harradence as Mayor.

He refused to resume his seat but threw open the windows and relayed proceedings to the excited crowd outside.

Mr. Wearne tendered his resignation as Council Clerk.

Finally, Griffin moved that Harradence be proceeded against for “altering, mutilating and defacing the minute book of the Bexley Council” but was ruled out of order for his “boorish, ungentlemanly and offensive conduct”.

This article was first published in the August 1964 edition of our magazine.

Browse the magazine archive.