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by Gifford Eardley

Amongst the earliest settlers of the Rockdale area was Mr. James Beehag, a descendant of a French Huguenot farming family formerly known as Behague, who was born at Southminster, a village set amidst the wheatfields on the flat lands of the English country of Essex. This rural village is placed at a meeting of crossroads midway between the tidal River Crouch and the wider sea-estuary known as the Blackwater River, the shore-side shoals of the North Sea being about five miles eastward.

Together with his brother William and sister (later Mrs. E. Way of Messrs. E. Way and Company, formerly drapers in Pitt Street, Sydney, sited in the block between Market and King Streets) he came to Sydney about the year 1836. According to report James Beehag first settled on the site at present occupied by the George Street store of Messrs. David Jones, located at the south-western corner of the intersection of George Street and Barrack Street, almost immediately opposite the General Post Office. About 1838 he moved to what can now be described as north-western Canterbury where, by all accounts, James Beehag was the first to settle in this area. Here he developed a market garden in the vicinity of the Liverpool Road, the property having an area of some thirty acres. The district at that time was a primeval forest which ranged over the low hills and their intervening shallow slopes. It has been mentioned that fresh water was one of the problems against the local settlement and, perhaps the nearest permanent household supply was at the casuarina tree-fringed Cooks River, which flowed a few miles to the south of the Beehag property.

James Beehag, who was of the Presbyterian faith, married Miss Mary Burnett at Scots Church in York Street, Sydney, where the ceremony, held on May 4th, 1840, was conducted by the Reverend William McIntyre. Their first child, named Isaac, was born on July 18th, 1841, and baptised on July 25th of the same year. The family address at this period was simply Liverpool Road and the happy couple were listed as farmers. Other children of the marriage were – Margaret (who married Samuel Tattler), Robert, Gideon (who married Elizabeth Eggleston), Elizabeth (who married William Humphries) and James (who married Elizabeth Humphries).

In 1852 the Canterbury property was sold and the Beehag family moved to the wilds of West Botany where they obtained a triangular shaped block of land some seventy acres in extent. The northern alignment ranged along Bay Street, Rockdale, from its junction, at an apex corner with Rocky Point Road (now Princes Highway) eastwards to the western corner of Pat Moore’s Swamp, located about midway between the present West Botany Street and England Street at Brighton le Sands. The westernmost portion of this plot was largely taken up by a low sandstone hillock, now quarried away for the passage of Bay Street, which once sloped southwards to the later made alignment of Chapel Street. This portion of the property was of little use for farming purposes, consequently when the need arose for a site to erect a Wesleyan Chapel, about 1854, it was offered for sale to the chapel authorities. A small edifice was subsequently erected and provision made for a cemetery. This old-time chapel (and its adjacent Methodist Church of much later construction) still stands in good order, both being situated amidst a wealth of lovely trees, the outstanding feature in the shopping area now known as Rockdale.

According to at least one early map the Beehag grant extended eastwards beyond the swamplands to the western shores of Botany Bay, then an area of sand dunes covered by a dense forest of age-old gum trees and a wealth of picturesque coastal scrub ranging from geebungs to banksias. The new farmland, in its original state, was likewise covered with a forest of huge black-butt and blue-gums, intermixed with angophora trees on the drier slopes. The pellucid fresh water stream, known as Black Creek (or by the less distinctive name of Muddy Creek), flowed through the estate, its banks being lined with feathery-leaved, sombre-hued, casuarina trees. It was hard work to fell the trees of the forest, burn their trunks and branches, remove the stumps, and drain and level, and then plough, the rich fertile land thus exposed for the cultivation of vegetables. No roads went by and a circuitous bush track wound its way northwards, avoiding where possible the marshy tracts bordering the western shore of Black Greek to gain the Cooks River Dam at Tempe. Here a connection was made with the old Cooks River Road which gave access to Sydneytown and its market place.

A small four-roomed cottage of locally burnt bricks was built, a tiny separate kitchen being placed at the rear in accordance with ancient custom. This double-fronted home possessed a shingled roof of silver-grey slats cut from the local she-oaks, and its four rooms had inter-connecting doorways without the benefit of a divisional hallway, In due course a large two-storied weatherboard packing shed was constructed at the eastern side of the little homestead to which lean-to’s were added to house the stables, feed-room, and the two-wheeled dray.

In addition to what may be regarded as his Bay Street estate, James Beehag was fortunate in obtaining another grant of similar land on the lower slopes of Kogarah Hill, east of Rocky Point Road and reaching to the border of Pat Moores Swamp. This land was also suitable for market garden purposes and portion of it, at the eastern end of the present Toomevara Street, is still under cultivation by a family of Chinese people. It is not known at this late date as to whether James Beehag undertook the development of his southern estate of fifty-four acres.

Mary Beehag died about 1853, when the eldest child, Isaac, was twelve years old, and the youngest, James, had attained his second birthday. It was a sad blow to the family to be bereft of their mother, and it is understandable that in due course the husband married Maria Hamilton, A second family eventuated, five in number, which comprised William, Samuel, Arthur, George, and Mary (who married Mr. Spackman).

Social conditions in the West Botany area of somewhat isolated farmlands were very much on the primitive side to say the least in the mid-period of last century. The community were beset by all manner of feuding and petty thieving. For instance, James Beehag’s cow strayed from its pastures into the surrounding bush and was never seen alive after it had been posted as missing. A search party later discovered that the animal had been shot, its carcass dismembered, and its flayed skin burnt in a fire, one of the culprits giving evidence of the theft and the slaughter. Then again the eldest son, Isaac, became the proud owner of a pony, which inadvertently strayed into a neighbouring market garden situated at the north- western corner of the present intersection of West Botany Street and Bay Street. The farmer of this land was not amused at the intrusion and subsequent eating of his precious vegetables and succeeded, in his rage, in slashing the pony’s jaws apart with an axe, an injury which caused the poor animal to be destroyed. These unfortunate happenings, amongst numerous others, did little, to create neighbourly feelings amongst those concerned with their livelihood in the immediate area.

When Isaac was a sturdy lad of eighteen he was engaged in cutting firewood at the Black Forest, later known as Gannon’s Forest and now as Hurstville. This wood, cut to a size suitable for domestic stoves, was taken by horse dray into Sydney and hawked through the back streets for the benefit of the housewives. It was necessary for the lad to sell his load, as the financial return was so essential for the sustenance of the large family at Bay Street, He dare not bring back the load to the farm for this reason.

James Beehag (senior) retired from business as a market gardener in 1883, and went to live in a two-storied house in the Arncliffe section of West Botany Street. Here he largely devoted himself to municipal affairs, being elected an alderman of the first West Botany Council, and in the second and third years of office he filled the position of Mayor. In the fourth year he resigned, but in the fifth year he again occupied the Mayoral chair for another two years, after which he resigned from the Council. At this period he was engaged, with William Hamilton Beehag, the eldest son of his second marriage, in the operation of a market garden located in West Botany Street almost opposite the intersection of Wickham Street, James Beehag (senior) died on September 10th, 1894, and was interred at the Wesleyan portion of the Rookwood Cemetery.

With his demise the estate and garden at the southern side of Bay Street was divided amongst the children of his first marriage, Isaac, Margaret, Elizabeth, and James (junior), all of whom continued to live on their portions of the once so extensive property. However, Robert and Gideon moved to St. Peters and Newtown. Margaret lived at the original cottage, later moving to a more commodious residence erected nearby. Her eldest daughter, Eliza Tattler, eventually married Mr. Edward Draper, a nurseryman, whose family still carry on the business. Strangely enough the original home is more or less intact, together with the large barn, but the second house on the property had been dismantled.

The aforementioned subdivision resulted in the formation of a short dead-end thoroughfare which was named James Street in honour of James Beehag (senior). This street gave access to several of the subdivided properties and was extended, under the title of West Botany Street, southwards to link with President Avenue at Kogarah. The erstwhile rural area is now occupied by all manner of factories and only a portion of the swamp land, together with Draper’s Nursery, remain to give an inkling to the wise of the former activities of that life-long gardener, James Beehag (senior).

For her kind assistance in the preparation of this article, the author is indebted to Mrs. Mary Ann Beaman, a charming lady approaching her ninetieth year, who is a grand-daughter of James Beehag.

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

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During Local Government Week, August 1998, Rockdale City Council launched a series of walk and drive guides to encourage a broad appreciation of the city. They highlight points of interest in the 1991 Rockdale Heritage Study by Meredith Walker and Terry Kass. The Heritage Adviser, Gary Stanley, produced the guides. The council was merged with City of Botany Bay Council in 2016 to form Bayside Council.

These guides are now available in the Resources section of our website:

• Arncliffe Heritage Walk – This two-hour walk features many fine Victorian and Federation houses and public buildings.
• Bayside Drive – This half hour 10km drive takes in the southern suburbs of Ramsgate Beach, Dolls Point and Sans Souci.
• Rockdale Heritage Drive – This 2-hour, 25km drive will give you an understanding of the original landscape, how the City developed, and highlights important natural areas, places and buildings which have been identified as heritage items, or of historic interest.
• Rockdale Heritage Walk – These one-hour walks feature many fine Victorian and Federation houses and public buildings.
• Wolli Creek Drive – A half hour 10km trip across the Bardwell Valley and down Wolli Creek Valley gives some indication of the land and original vegetation of the City.

Extract from The Propeller, February 1941

There’s many an old resident of the St. George district who will probably tell you, with proud memory of his schooldays, that you’re not a “dinki-di” Sydneyite until you’ve polished off a pocket full of five-corners. And, without any prompting, he’ll very likely add that, “As a ‘nation’ of five-corner eaters we are slipping”. Oddly enough there is a considerable amount of truth in such comments, since, in the days of fifty and more years ago, the name “five-corner” was a household word in many of the suburbs of Sydney, especially around St. George. In the five-corner season of the early summer it was a name that hung on the lips of almost every schoolboy — yes, and his sister, too. There’s many a local schoolroom whose floor has been littered with the well-chewed seeds of these wild berries of the bush. Indeed, it is familiarly known amongst those of the older generation that five-corners once enjoyed such popularity that, in season, they were bought and sold as a regular line in the old Paddy’s Markets, Sydney, and in some of the city fruit shops arid many a local boy and girl made pocket money by gathering them.

Yet today the chances are that nine out of every ten persons you meet haven’t even the faintest idea what a five-corner is, or wouldn’t even recognise a five-corner bush if they happened to see one. Moreover, amongst the new generation of school kiddies the pioneer custom of gathering and chewing five-corners has been rapidly replaced with the modern habit of ice cream licking and the munching of chewing-gum. In truth, what was once a most distinctively Australian pastime is gradually disappearing into the limbo of forgotten things. The reasons for these changes are, in a way, interesting, and several factors nave contributed towards them.

Let some of the old residents of St. George — all experienced five-corner eaters — have a word or two about schoolday memories of these native fruits. For instance, there’s the well known veteran of Hurstville, Mr. Jack Chappelow, whose father’s home, more than fifty years ago, stood amid thick bush down behind Allawah Railway Station, towards Blakehurst. With happy recollections, Mr. Chappelow remembers how, when he was a boy, the five-corner bushes grew thickly around the old homestead. He noticed that they seemed to flourish best along the rocky sandstone slopes, or else down on the sandy flats – but few, if any, would be met with back on the heavier clay country, such as occurs behind Hurstville and around Dumbleton or towards Campsie. In his young days this veteran, with his mates would make regular “expeditions” through the bush gathering in the spoils of the five-corner crop. They would spend hours filling tins and other containers – much the same as youngsters, and oldsters, do today when the blackberries are ripe. When a sufficiently bulky quantity had been accumulated Mr. Chappelow would give them to the local wood-carters to be taken into Newtown – which was then the nearest shopping centre. There they were sold by the shops to the public. And that’s how Jack Chappelow and his youthful mates earned odd shillings as pocket money, which was a novelty then for most children. Mr. Chappelow recalls that he gave many a pocketful of five-corners to Lochrin Tiddy – the man who, more than fifty years back, was the very first returning officer of Hurstville. Practically everybody, both young and old, chewed the wild fruits of the five-corners in those distant times, and such a custom proved a novel diversion to help break the monotony for those whose daily life was not readily furnished with the common enough sweetmeats of modern 1941. Along with the five-corners the pioneers also gathered from the bush such other wild berries and fruit as ten-corners, top-corners, ground berries, geebungs, native grapes (a bitterish as they are), lilli pillies, and the sour native currants.

Persons who have resided for any considerable time around the lower parts of Kogarah and Rockdale, and between Sans Souci and North Brighton along the flats, are the ones who have probably had much more experience with five-corners than anyone else in St. George. This is for the simple reason that the “fivie” bushes once grew the thickest of all in those areas, especially from Sans Souci to Cooks River, where they stood in veritable ”jungles” — so dense, in fact, that it was far easier to crawl along under them than to try and brush through. And, in that sandy country, such an adventure was invariably attended by the risk of coming face-to-face with marauding snakes, or else being tormented and stung by no end of “red joeys”. Many a tale about the “fivies” of Brighton will the old hands tell you. At the height of the season some of the “regulars” would spend hours down at the lower ends of Bestic and Bay Streets while they filled empty flour bags with the ripening berries – most of which would be lying on the ground under each bush.

Mr. Kinsela, of Sans Souci, and formerly of Bexley, is another of the “old school” who has many happy recollections about five-corner picking. He recalls the time, when he was a boy, when “fivies” could be bought at the old Paddy’s Markets, Sydney, for a penny an egg-cup full. Large quantities of them were traded there; and in later years certain city fruit shops displayed them for sale. Yet now-a-days it’s a safe wager that you won’t find a single five-corner in the whole of the city. One of their best collecting grounds, says Mr. Kinsela, was the scrub and bush that once spread thickly on either side of Woniora Road, from South Hurstville down towards Tom Ugly’s. Many a tin and basketful he and his school mates gathered down that way, after spending whole afternoons amongst the bushes. Today you could walk for miles around that locality – and Brighton too, for that matter and not see one five-corner bush. There are, however, odd ones still growing here and there in isolated patches, particularly in a spot like Oatley Park, or way out around Lugarno. On the Sutherland side of George’s River, and in wide bushland areas such as the National Park, lots of five-corners may yet be found in favourable situations.

Because of the overwhelming spread of suburban settlement within the last three decades most of the localities in St. George, and other parts of coastal Sydney, where “fivies” once flourished, have been entirely swept clean of their natural scrub and bush. In similar fashion to the more lordly gum-tree, the humble five-corner bush and his mates is fast disappearing beneath the crush of sardine-packed suburbs. No doubt that is one of the primary reasons why the pioneer tradition – handed down from the aborigines and the first white settlers – of five-corner gathering and eating is dying off. Another factor also in this historic change is that youngsters of the present generation are much more privileged with pocket money than their grandfathers were. Moreover, there are greater inducements today in the way of buying ready-made pleasures and pastimes. Youngsters, as a consequence, are more readily attracted to the civilised “fruits” of the sweet shops and the milk bars; and that goes too for the grown-ups.

And now, finally, a word or two about the five-corner bush itself – what the botanists will tell you. In the first place, the five-corners — of which there are eleven different kinds or species – are true native plants of Australia, and found no where else in the entire world. Not only did they grow principally in New South Wales, but they are confined almost solely to the coast and eastward slopes of the Blue Mountains. One or two types of five-corners, in fact, will be found nowhere else but on the sandstone zone of which Sydney is the centre. Thus it can be said that five-corners are unknown to the majority of Australians.

These wild plants are classed as members of the Australian heath family — of which they are said to be the largest and most beautifully coloured. Their botanical name is Styphelia; which was taken from the Greek word “styphelos”, meaning rough; which describes the stiff, compact and harsh nature of the shrub and its foliage. As mature fruit-bearing shrubs they may be found in heights of anything from two feet to eight feet and even taller, depending on the situation in which they are growing. Their leaves are on the small side – for example, smaller than those of the Christmas bush – and are of plain shape, but have sharp pointed tips. In the different kinds of five-corners the flowers vary in colour from pink and red to yellow, green, and white. They are tube-shaped, with lung stamens poking out through the opening. Honey-eaters and insects are fond of the flowers, as they hold sweet drops of nectar. It is in the late winter and early spring months that the five-corners come into bloom, and the ripening berries will be found from then on into the summer. Odd ones, of course, will be seen in fruit out of season. Now, it is an interesting point that the popular name of the shrub – five-corner – is really descriptive of its fruit, each of which is “wrapped-up”, so to speak, in five small leaves, which first held the flower. This produces the characteristic of five points or corners; which is an outstanding guide to the identity of this shrub. Each berry is described by botanists as being in the shape of a drupe, meaning that it has the appearance and structure, generally, of an olive, but on a much smaller scale. Oddly enough there is nothing startling about its flavour, and not much flesh covers the one central seed. It is, however, on the sweetish side when fully ripened, and has a distinctive taste, though only mild, which is not quite like any other wild berry. It is certainly the very opposite of the native currants! The succulent fruit of the five-corner, by the way, is properly ripe when it has fallen to the ground beneath the bush; although many “fivie” enthusiasts prefer to pick and eat those that are still amongst the green foliage.

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

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At the official gathering held at Kurnell on 6th May, 1899, to set apart 251 acres as a public reserve and a National Memorial to Captain James Cook, Mr. Joseph Cook (Minister for Lands) referred to the fact that Cook discovered the river so named after him. The following is an extract from his speech:

“I have in my possession temporarily (thanks to the courtesy of Mr. Huntington) a facsimile of Cook’s own chart of Botany Bay, and it shows that he proceeded in his boats up Cook’s River as far as the dam.”

The earliest reference we have to the name Cook’s River is in the year 1800, when Surveyors Grimes and Meeham, in their field books for the years 1799 to 1802 refer to surveys of farms at Cook’s River. it is interesting to know that in the early days and for many years, wild flowers grew in great profusion along the shores of the river. It was described as a peaceful and beautiful river, and the banks, especially in the upper reaches, were covered with tall trees.

The river, from the source at Rookwood, near the eastern boundary of Liberty Plains to the dam at Tempe, is 9.25 miles long, and from the dam to Botany Bay it is 3.25 miles long, making a total length of 12.5 miles.

About eleven years ago the river was diverted in an almost straight line from Tempe to Botany Bay.

That portion of the river from Shea’s Creek to Botany Bay was filled in so as to enlarge the Mascot Aerodrome.

The first place of interest on the banks of the filled in portion of the river at the entrance to Botany Bay, was to be seen the ruins of the old Macquarie style building with a high chimney. After the river was filled in the chimney of his historic building was removed. This building was used from 1858 to 1888 as a pumping station for the water supply of Sydney. The Botany and Randwick swamps, known officially as the “Lachlan Swamps”, were linked up as a chain of ponds. A tunnel was commenced in September 1827, to convey this water to Sydney. This work was under the direction of Mr. James Busby, Mineral Surveyor, and it was completed a few years later. The tunnel was known as the “Busby Bore” or Busby Tunnel.

At the former Cook’s River tram terminus, the road bridge crosses the river within about 100 feet of the site of the original bridge, owing to the river altering its course, and the old river-bed forming a dead-end. The dam at this old bridge was constructed by convict labour, under the superintendence of Mr. Colvert, during the year 1835. On the Sydney side of the river stood a little wooden toll bar at the entrance to the bridge. The toll gate was closed at night. All horses and vehicles were charged a small fee to pass through, but foot passengers went through free.

On the Arncliffe side of the river from the bridge was the line mansion known as “Tempe”, built and occupied by Mr. Alexander Brodie Spark.

Further along the river was the old Unwin’s Bridge, formerly a wooden structure, built by convicts in 1836, and so named after the Unwin family who resided in a pretty home at Undercliffe known as “Wanstead House”, named after their native home in Essex, England. Further along the river on the right hand side was the old home of the Hon. Thomas Holt, known as “Warren House”, with its beautiful lawns and gardens. The estate consisted of about 140 acres.

When nearing Canterbury, on the banks of the river, was an old stone building erected by the Australian Sugar Company, and it bears the inscription: A.S. Co., 1841. A dam was built across the river to ensure a supply of fresh water. The first sugar was placed on the market during 1842 and the business was transferred to Sydney in 1855.

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

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(article from February 1964)

Historic Rosevale Villa, one of the last pioneer homes left in Rockdale is no more and although its stones were marked and every care taken in its demolition it is unlikely that it could ever be rebuilt.

The soft sandstone mouldings which have withstood the ravages of time for almost 100 years crumbled badly as they were being moved and the large stone blocks from which the building was made fared little better.

This is a great disappointment to this Society which fought for its preservation from the time the “FOR SALE – DEVELOPMENT SITE” notice was posted on its front fence.

Also to be demolished in the reasonably near future is the Bray Family home in Market Street, Rockdale, which stands in the way of the large parking area being developed at the rear of the Rockdale Shopping Centre.

Although much older than Rosevale Villa, this cottage does not have the same architectural merit as the first named building and in recent years has been obscured by a number of additions.

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

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