The Collection

ECCENTRICS AND CHARACTERS

Mangus Jack	Famous whip maker who also made bridles, halters, belts, braces, watch bands etc travelled from station to station and eventually found dead on Old Man Plains between Hay and Deniliquin with one of his whips in his hand.
Paddy Lenny	The Horse King of the NT. Owned over 800 horses and refused to sell any of them as he moved the mob from water hole to waterhole.
Old Bob	Amateur artist who always painted fences in his pictures. From B Beatty 1954 Come A Waltzing Matilda
Old Jimmy	The name of Mr. James Tyson (or, as he is familiarly called – “Old Jimmy”), the Queensland millionaire, is so well known throughout this and the other colonies, says the Narrandera Ensign … see article in this section, “Hungry” Tyson Yarns Source: AUSTRALIAN PASTORALISTS’ REVIEW. JULY 16,1891
Abby Dabby	Had a regular stand outside the bank of NSW in George street and sold wax matches. His name came from his almost perpendicular shaped mouth, he couldn’t get his tongue around his cry of Max Watches, Max Watches. Penny a box. Source: M Tyrell Old Books Old Friends 1952
Sovereign Smith	Born in Plymouth and came to Manly via NZ. He opened the first smoked fish factory and also erected the first public merry go round. He nickname came from the fact he wore half sovereigns as buttons on his waistcoat. They were Q Victoria Jubilee sovereigns from 1877 and a large gold nugget on his watch chain
Miss Gladys Carey	Miss Gladys Carey used to live with her older sister in High Street, North Sydney. This was not far from where my family lived. She had come to Australia from England as a child with her family in the late nineteenth century. When I first met her in the 1950’s she would have been over seventy years old. Much of the character of North Sydney has changed since my childhood in the 1950’s. The Warringah Freeway and the many highrise buildings are now where houses used to be. But there are still parts of the suburb that have escaped some of the changes. One of these is a little parkland area called the Gladys Carey Reserve. During the Second World War, people living in North Sydney were asked by their local council to look after the appearance of their street. Miss Carey acted upon this request, keeping not only the footpath in front of her home tidy, but other neighbours’ home fronts as well. Just opposite Miss Carey’s house was a walkway down to Milson Park. Part of this walkway included a steep staircase, beside which there was an area of ground that had been left to run wild. Over the next twenty years Miss Carey changed this area into gardens. At the bottom of the staircase she made a park. I can still remember Miss Carey quite clearly. Weather didn’t stop her gardening and she could be seen toiling away on the most miserable of days. All the plants she grew came from cuttings from her own garden, her neighbours’ and even those which people had thrown in the street. The stones that formed the rockeries were manoeuvered into place by her. When I was a child bread was delivered to homes in our district by horse and cart. The baker’s cart would stop each day opposite the flats where I lived. At my mother’s suggestion, I would shovel up the horse manure that was left most days on the side of the road after the baker’s visit. With my bucket of hot manure, I would then walk the short distance to Miss Carey’s park and leave the contents there. She was a very friendly old lady and most thankful for the manure. I remember once, after she had tended her gardens and rockeries, that she went home and returned with some slides and a viewer. Seating herself in Milson Park, she proceeded to show my friends and me slides of far off places she had visited. In 1967 the local council recognised the work of Miss Carey. They named this area after her. The Gladys Carey Reserve remains today as a reminder of this wonderful old lady who led a useful life. Whenever I return to North Sydney I try to make time to visit her park. Listen to the song here. Read an article on Miss Carey’s Little Park here.
Flying Pieman	“The flying Pieman wore an old frock coat of different coloured patches and his hat being covered with tickets and placards and his legs and feet in hessian bags.” From Reminiscences of Hon. John McIntosh MLC 1839“A man named King tried to walk from Smith’s public house Parramatta to the Commercial Wharf Sydney in less time than it took the steamer Australia to do the run. King completed the distance in two hours twenty-five minutes. The steamer arrived three minutes before.” 11th Feb 1841 A song about the Flying Pieman follows this section.
Bill Weldon	a Victorian who claimed he was once a bush telegraph for the Kelly gang. BILL WELDON’S DITTY He told us yarns of Beechworth And Yackandandah too Wild horses he had run down Thick scrubs he’d galloped through And how he’d run the brumbies From the Snowy to Bell’s Hole And of the famous prime bull That he and Murphy stole. One of the men in his camp made up this dittySource:From book ‘gather no moss’ – Linklater 1978
Slogger Ball	A press ganger who’s beat for snaring unwary sailors was near darling harbour. He wore a stovepipe hat and frock coat and the back rooms of his house had hidden trapdoors leading to dungeons where he kept the sailors. From ‘the press gang’ Brodsky 1974
The Hermit of Hat Hill	William Andrew Murphy was born in the Maitland district in 1846. In his later years he lived near Hat Hill at Blackheath in the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, from around 1913 to 1925. Hat Hill was so named because it looks rather like an old felt hat. Mr Murphy built a small dwelling and soon the local animals and birds began regular evening visits to scavenge food from him. It was not long before people heard about this. On Sundays a local bus began driving people out to Hat Hill to watch quietly as Mr Murphy fed the wildlife. Unfortunately, a bushfire came through this area, possibly in either 1918 or 1919, and Mr Murphy’s home was destroyed. After the fire had passed, Mr Murphy was found underneath a small waterfall at the back of his property. Local people helped the old man to rebuild his house. They also gave him a horse to ride. However, the shock he must have suffered during the fire meant that things at Hat Hill could never be the same for him again. In the 1920’s he went to live in West Kogarah. He died there on 30 November 1927 and is buried in the Roman Catholic section of Woronora Cemetery. On his death certificate his occupation is that of carpenter. Most of the information I know about Mr Murphy comes from the recollections of Jack and Ted Harris. In the early 1980’s, they were asked to record some of their memories of the Blackheath area. William Murphy obviously created a lasting impression for the brothers. They clearly remembered the old gentleman who, over sixty years before, had lived at the end of their road when they were children. In July 1984, after listening to the Harris brothers’ recording, a part of the Blue Mountains Oral History Collection, I wrote a song about Mr Murphy. Some years later a photograph of Mr Murphy and also one of his home were discovered. Sections of the stone walls of Mr Murphy’s abandoned home can still be found in the bushland. Over the years the house site has slowly been reclaimed by the surrounding bushland. I have visited the ruins a number of times since writing the song. It is a place made special for me by Mr Murphy’s story, a story of celebration and loss. Perhaps in the future, as I continue singing my song, I will discover more about him. Listen to the song here. Listen to the podcast “Search of Mr Murphy” here.
Henry Brown	Sir Henry Browne Hayes –  1762-1832 He was an Irish convict adventurer. Belonged to a wealthy and respectable family in Cork. Knighted in 1790 then sentenced to death for kidnapping and forcibly marrying (by a man dressed as a priest) his victim, an heiress Mary Pike (22,000 pounds) , refused to accept the marriage. A quaker! (Merrily Danced the Quaker) After a warrant issued for his arrest in 1801 he agreed to be transported.Arrived Sydney 1802 and did well – until he sided with Bligh and was sent to the coal mines in Newcastle.Built Vaucluse House and imported tons of Irish soil to prevent snakes entering the grounds. Returned to Ireland in 1812  Sir Henry Browne HayesFrom ‘the press gang’ Brodsky 1974No snakes at Vaucluse HouseFirst owner was Sir Henry Brown Hayes. He was an Irishman and was scared of snakes. He dug a trench around the house and filled it with imported Irish soil.Sir HenryFrom RHS Story of Vaucluse House. 1915. (Tune: Merrily Kissed The Quaker) Sung as a taunt after the case of Sir Henry Brown Hayes who built Vaucluse House.
Bully Hayes	Sir Henry Browne Hayes – Bully 1762-1832 MSQ612 Fled England after a warrant issued for his arrest in 1801 Arrived Sydney 1802 Irish convict adventurer. Belonged to a wealthy and respectable family in Cork. Knighted in 1790 then sentences to death for kidnapping and forcibly marrying his victim. Built Vaucluse House. Returned to Ireland in 1812 Adventurer, swindler and blackbirder, best known as ‘BULLY’, is said to have been born in Cleveland, Ohio, United States of America, son of Henry Hayes, innkeeper, to have gained some knowledge of seafaring on the Great Lakes and to have roamed the Pacific engaging in the many trades that ocean offered in ways often not short of piracy. Although he is stated to have made a voyage to Melbourne and Sydney in the American barque Canton in 1853 his first recorded arrival in Australia was at Fremantle in January 1857 as master of the C. W. Bradley which he had acquired at Singapore by devious means. For three years he engaged in several audacious maritime frauds ranging from Fremantle to San Francisco. On 25 August 1857 at Penwortham, South Australia, he married, probably bigamously, Amelia Littleton. In January 1860 Hayes reappeared in Sydney after his stolen Ellentia foundered, and was charged with indecent assault on a young girl in that ship. The case was dismissed but the Empire printed a scathing account of his character and past activities which was rebutted by forged letters to the Sydney Morning Herald. For debt he was imprisoned in Darlinghurst gaol but released when declared insolvent. After some time in the Hunter Valley with the Glogski and Buckingham minstrel troupe he sailed for New Zealand as a passenger in the Cincinnati with his theatrical companions. There he reputedly ‘married’ Rosa Buckingham who, with her child, brother and a young nursemaid, were drowned near Nelson in August 1864; Hayes alone escaped. For some years he sailed New Zealand waters in various craft which he obtained by fraud and deception until in May 1866 he bought the Rona and with a wife and children on board became a South Sea trader and blackbirder. The Rona was lost off Manihiki, Cook Islands, and in Samoa he joined the American blackbirder, Ben Pease, in the Pioneer which later returned to Samoa as the Leonora with Hayes in command. Sir Henry Browne Hayes –  1762-1832 He was an Irish convict adventurer. Belonged to a wealthy and respectable family in Cork. Knighted in 1790 then sentenced to death for kidnapping and forcibly marrying (by a man dressed as a priest) his victim, an heiress Mary Pike (22,000 pounds) , refused to accept the marriage. A quaker! (Merrily Danced the Quaker) After a warrant issued for his arrest in 1801 he agreed to be transported. Arrived Sydney 1802 and did well – until he sided with Bligh and was sent to the coal mines in Newcastle. Built Vaucluse House and imported tons of Irish soil to prevent snakes entering the grounds. Returned to Ireland in 1812
Will Wentworth	SONG ON WILLIAM WENTWORTH’S CAMPAIGN If twixt the two ye make compare Ye’ll say ‘Your place mon is na there Hoot, Charlie sit in Billy’s chair Whistle o’er the lave o’t We knew for a’that’s come and gane That Billy had a tongue and brain Poor Charlie couldn’a saw nor plane Whistle etc And Billy ca’d us dirty loons And wad’na trust us wi his spoons Aft rag’d and swore Lord be aboons But Billy cross’d the mountains blue And drave the kye and wethers through The de’il a thing can Charlie do And mony the fight in ‘auld lang syne Has Billy fought, well worth to min’ But Charlie naewheer can ye find For Charlie’s nae this nor that Or black or white or cold or hot He fire can bring for no mans pot And Charlie is of those who bide The flow and turn of time and tide Aye strong upon the strongest tide When Poers abuse was sternly met When men were rendering thraldoms… Has ere his voice been lifted yet If Billy knew that Charlie’s soul Was coveting his empty stool My certie would hear a growl If Billy could but dream that Waddle Assisted by pen of twaddle Dared think of climbing in his saddle He’d swear in his most wrathful mood And say ‘such shame must be withstood Go vote for Parkes I’m sure he would Tune: Whistle O’er The Lave O’t Source: From Kempiana 1854 – a handbook for the hustlings.
Jock Robertson	A man of means would attend the Sydney Courts every day and pay the fines of all and sundry. He was a Scot.
Jack Robertson	Jack Robertson is best remembered for his Land Reforms and the opening up of the squattocracy. JACK ROBERTSON Heigh diddle diddle The Fox & the Fiddle The Parliament met in the moon The Doctor laughed To see such craft While jack ran away with the spoon Heigh diddle diddle The Fox & The Fiddle The Speaker grew sick in the moon The people stared But no one dared Stop Jack running off with the spoon. Parody when Robertson was NSW Premier. Source: From The Ghost Magazine 1860s
Paddy the Ram	Said to have earned his name after butting a sailor in a brawl at the quay. Went from handsome cab to handsome cab selling special candles used in their lanterns. Almost blind he used a very long cane with the candles sitting in a tin box secured around his neck. He wore his entire wardrobe – a large oilskin sou’wester, 3 pairs of trousers and sea boots.Circa 1850s Used to hang out near Devonshire St outside the old rail station. He sold squat cab candles to drivers. He was well known around the 1850s. In the early days Sydney’s water came from Busby’s Bore – you had to draw your own water from fountains around Sydney. From the fountain at Liverpool & Kent streets. Paddy would deliver water at one penny per bucket. He was always surrounded by a crowd of children who would listen to his singing. THE PACIFIC Australia’s Illustrated weekly. 1923 Aug onwards. Mitchell August 24 issue article on Street Characters of Old Sydney
Nosey Bob	Nosey Bob (Robert Howard) was the NSW hangman circa 1882Said to be NSWs last hangman. His nose had been disfigured by a horse accident when he was a handsome cab driver. He lived in a hut near Ben Buckler. He had a dispute with the nearest hotel because the publican had a habit of smashing every glass he drank from saying that no one else would drink from a glass that Bob’s nose had ventured into. Bob refused to drink in the hotel and used to send in his horse with a billy can and the publican would fill the can for him.
Nip Chain Allan	NIP CHAIN ALLAN Nip Chain Allan is me name Nipping dingoes is me game I nip chain all there is, is, is, In fact I make it quite a biz Nipping gibbers won me fame Big or small they’re all the same I’m a headache to the truckers And a headache to the muckers ’cause Nip Chain Allan is me name. Tune: Champagne Charlie Source: From Conveyor Magazine (Pub by the Zinc Corp Broken Hill) 1949
Old Mother Five Bob	Frequented the Domain gates near St Mary’s cathedral. She was a street fruit stall owner and much taunted by urchins. She dressed completely in green on St pats day and marched at the front of the procession.
Pockets	He wore a bowler hat, long tailed button up coat, tight trousers reaching only half way down with very thin legs showing with elastic side boots and no socks.
Billy Honey Huntington aka Garden Honey	A Londoner named Frederick Quick and also known as Garden Honey (because he sold it). He also later sold fruit then papers in Sydney. He always wore a peaked sailors cap and a velveteen sac coat with white vest and trousers. He called out ‘Evening News & echo – full account of my dear little Sweetheart Minnie Palmer (an opera singer in King St)Frederick Quick was born in Paddington, London. Usually dressed in white trousers a velveteen sac -coat and a vest with twilled shirt. He always wore a cloth cap with a flat peak surmounted a whimsical face. He was a noted wit. THE PACIFIC Australia’s Illustrated weekly. 1923 Aug onwards. Mitchell August 24 issue article on Street Characters of Old Sydney
Quong Tart	Quong Tart was one of Sydney’s most celebrated characters and a very successful operator of high class tea rooms. At one stage Mr Tart had seven tea rooms in the city. He was Chinese with a Scottish accent and was a member of the Caledonian Society One must also remember that the general opinion was firmly against Chinese immigration. MR QUONG TART Mr Quong Tart, Has made a start, In the flowery land you will find him; He’s left Braidwood, But not for good, He’ll return with others behind him. Land of gold, Cries the Chinese bold, Though all the world should fail you; The celestial race Having found the place, Will never cease to hail you. Quong Tart is gone, But his friends come on, A welcome from us ignoring: Brothers and cousins, Johns by the dozens. Into the city are pouring. Tune: The Minstrel Boy Source: . Sydney Punch – April 1881
Harry The Cat	Harry the Cat was a character at Paddy’s who pounced on every empty fruit case – he cornered the market. 1860s
Sweet Nellie of Manly	Sweet Nellie of Manly was Mrs Nell O’Sullivan who sold sweets from a handcart at Manly to help support her sick husband. She was not above dancing on top of the cart to get tips. She died in 1933 and local residents erected a memorial stone at Manly Cemetery.
Florentino the Fern Cutter	a character with long black hair who earned his living as a hedge trimmer used in local butcher shop window displays. From 1920 smh
David Mitchell	David Mitchell was known to Sydney handsome cab drivers as ‘old Four Hours’ because of his to the minute book buying habits. His usual dress was a black bowler, black cloth paget coat, matching trousers and elastic sided boots
Old Dad	Circa 1890s Old Dad was an Irishman in the 1890s and resided in the Rocks near the Argyle Cut – everyone in the neighbourhood knew when Old Dad went off to work. As he started down the stairs by the Cut, the street boys would cry out ‘Old Dad’ and the old man would shout in reply and chase them. He always carried a big stick but rarely caught a boy. THE PACIFIC Australia’s Illustrated weekly. 1923 Aug onwards. Mitchell August 24 issue article on Street Characters of Old SydneyKnown mainly for his bad temper. He wore a large floppy black hat and long yellow dust coat and carried a leather satchel over one shoulder. Grey side whiskers sprouting from his ears. Urchins followed him yelling out Old dad and he would respond by throwing stones at the, He once hit sir Henry Parkes with one by mistake.
Socks Cameron	“Gen-you-wine latest fashion folks 4p a pair or a bargain lot fer a deener. Step up and I’ll sock you 4p a time.” from The Restles markets of Sydney 1970
Lord Muck McCoy	Lord Muck McCoy was a character at the old Sydney Markets around the 1850s”Ere y’r ladies and gentlemen step this way. Noo models er lydies shoes fer 3/6 a pair. Kickers fit for a countess. An fer gents good walking suits only just soiled. Look like a guv’nor for 25 bob and if yer no tramp fdon’t look like one. Step right up ‘cos they won’t last long”. from The Restles markets of Sydney 1970
Daddy Nipper	Daddy Nipper was a goat herder. DADDY NIPPER Daddy Nipper and his kids Number thirty score Roam the Canning stock route Collecting more and more Set out with seven hundred But a greedy man is he Who’ll never be content? Till they number 73 Daddy Nipper is a pipper Most prolific he Adds to his large family ‘tween breakfast and his tea There is a suggestion the ditty was the work of Henry Lawson. Source: ‘The Story of the Canning Stock Route’ by E Smith 1966. Tune: Goosey Goosey Gander
Arthur Stace	The writer of ‘Eternity’ was a mystery until 1956 when the Rev lisle Thompson of the Burton Street Baptist Church saw Stace (who could barely write his own name) writing, in perfect copperplate script, ‘eternity’ on the pavement. “Are you Mr Eternity?” he enquired, “Guilty your Honour” Stace replied. Born in a slum at Balmain in 1884. His schooling was non-existent and at age 12 he became a ward of the State. At 14 he commenced work in a coal mine and succumbed to alcohol. At 15 he went continued a family tradition and was sent to gaol. He served in WW1 and returned to Australia and his old lifestyle. In the Depression he found God. He married and lived in Pyrmont with his wife Pearl. He would rise at 4am every day and commence his work of writing Eternity on Sydney’s streets returning home at 10am. Always primly dressed. Usually in a double-breasted suit and felt hat he became a familiar sight. He died aged 83 on 30 July, 1967. His iconic Eternity has passed into local lore and was used as a giant message on the Sydney Harbour Bridge for a 1990s New Year’s Eve. The year 2000 burst into life with an explosion of colour, as fireworks painted the sky over Sydney for almost half an hour. The display climaxed with the gradual appearance, through a residue of smoke, of the word Eternity. It was written in yellow lights across the centre of the Sydney Harbour Bridge arch. For many, the sight of this word would have awakened old memories. For me, it was enough to transport me over 40 years, back to the streets of my childhood in North Sydney. The word, carefully written in yellow chalk, would mysteriously appear on the streets of our suburb. It was always viewed with curiosity. On a visit to North Sydney in 1993 I recalled some of the places where I had seen the word written. There was something very special about its appearance. It was not until later that I heard about Arthur Stace and his story. For me, the mystique surrounding Mr Eternity persists to this day. My 1993 visit to North Sydney and the childhood memories it awakened resulted in my writing a song. The idea of a man resolving to write one word upon the streets of Sydney and its suburbs for more than thirty years is unusual to say the least. The same word that I saw as a child in the 1950’s had already been written by Arthur Stace for over twenty years. Such repeated practice had resulted in a perfection of style. As a child, this did not go unnoticed. These were still the days of the copper plate writing style when we dipped our pens into small ink bottles, neatly inserted in school desk tops, and learnt to write by repeated practice. I was intrigued by the look of the word and the way that it rolled effortlessly off the tongue when you said it. The word’s meaning introduced me to a concept of time which was hard for any young mind to understand without some sense of anxiety. The temporary nature of the medium used by Arthur Stace appears at odds with the message he wished to communicate. But once read, it was that indelibility in the memory of many that allowed it to endure. Listen to the song here. Read an article on Mr. Eternity: Arthur Stace here.
Champagne Charlie	90/205 Champagne Charlie arrived early on Major’s Creek from the Californian gold fields. He spent freely on champagne, and was rewarded with the sobriquet of ‘Champagne Charlie’. He was attended by Rufus Lambert, his factotum, who received four pounds a week for looking after him when on a spree. He was widely known as ‘Champagne’s Nugget’ REMINISCENSES OF GOLD FIELDS AND ELSEWHERE Martin Brennan. Sydney 1907 Covering 48 years as an officer of police
Dulcie Deamer	1890-1972 Most famous for her appearance at the 1923 Artist’s Ball in her shocking leopard skin costume. Officially crowned the Queen of Bohemia, she lived in Kings Cross during its heydays of the 1920s. Mss. 920.09441/2
William Francis King	1807-1873 Arrived from E in 1829. Twice beat the Sydney to Windsor mail coach on foot, walked from S to P and back, twice a day, for 6 consecutive days. Walked from Brickfield Hill (Near Haymarket) to Parramatta while balancing a live goat – in just under 7 hours. Picked up 100 live cats, 100 live rats and 100 live mice, placed a yard apart…what was he thinking! Would sell pies at Circular Quay to passengers getting on the steamer to P and then meet the same passengers a sthey disembarked having beaten them by foot. – 18 miles. Mss. 920.09441/2
William James Chidley	1860-1916 Philosopher with unconventional theories on sex, diet and clothing. Gave lectures but because he dared mention repressed sexual urges, he was persecuted and placed in lunatic asylums until public pressure to release him. Had an enthusiastic band of followers. Mss. 920.09441/2
L O ‘Daddy’ Bailey	The founder of the ‘Katies’ chain of retail outlets was a vegetarian and came to public attention during WW2 when he ‘adopted’ over 50 orphan children and raised them on a natural diet at his Bowral Hopewood property. He went on to establish the Natural Health Society of NSW. Despite being considered a ‘crank’ Bailey’s experiment was a massive success in regard to healthy bodies with the children breaking world records in dental health etc. Hopewood was the name of his institution which still continues his work. Mss. 920.09441/2
Billy Blue	1734-1834 ‘The Old Commodore’. Sydney’s first ferryman. Jamaican born arrived Sydney in 1801 as a convict sentenced 7 years transportation. Official ‘Water Bailiff’ he lived in a little stone house in grounds of Government House. Mss. 920.09441/2
Henry Grace	1884-1966 The Birdman. Designed elaborate bird whistles so that he might talk with the birds. Devoted more than 50 years – whistles made from old parts – wire, rubber, wood, tin, could imitate more than 60 native birds Mss. 920.09441/2
Joseph Cindric	1906-1994 The Trolleyman Hunched, helmeted, pushed cart around Sydney streets for over 20 years. Usually spent day around Hyde Park. Always on the move with all his worldly possessions. Lore has it he came from Eastern Europe and carried letters from his long lost son in the trolley. Mss. 920.09441/2
Beatrice Miles ‘Bee’	1902-1973 rebel. Anti-authoritarian. Disruptive. Loin cloth. Reputedly dived off Tamarama rocks, supoposedly fought off sharks with a knife she carried in a sheath. Scourge of Sydney taxi drivers because she refused to pay – unless she wanted to. Also wore a sign around her neck advertising that she would recite Shakespeare for a shilling. Mss. 920.09441/2
Francis Edward de Groot	1888-1969 Unofficially opened the Harbour Bridge 19 march 1932 taking all S by surprise. He was member of right wing paramilitary group The New Guard Mss. 920.09441/2
The Skull	1960s A tall, lean neo-fascist type who shaved his head at a time when it was an unusual sight. He attended most demonstrations including the Vietnam Moratoriums and was extremely vocal against all and sundry. Mss. 920.09441/2
Rosaleen Norton	1917-1979 controversial artist said to be involved in black magic. Known as the ‘Witch of Kings Cross’. When asked if she would ever lead a normal life she said: “Oh God no, I couldn’t stand it! I’d go mad or sane. I don’t know which.” Mss. 920.09441/2
Harold Kangaroo Thornton	Born 1916– died in Holland in 2004. Extremely colourful artist. Used any canvas, including own clothes, advertised himself as ‘greatest genius that has ever lived’ and pushed a pram around lower Oxford street.This image is used with permission. It is of a painting he submitted to the Archibald Prize in 1985.Mss. 920.09441/2
The Wizard (formerly Ian Channel)	1932 Wizard of the fun revolution. Preached in Domain late 60s as Wizard of Oz. Moved to NZ in 1974 Mss. 920.09441/2
Sister Ada Green	Died 1984 Evangelist. Domain preacher for 43 years beating her tambourine and singing hymns. Audience would always respond to her preaching with “Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition” Mss. 920.09441/2
John Webster	J 1913- Domain’s most popular speaker during 1960s and 70s. Spoke about everything and anything as long as donations came in. wicked wit. Kinky, issued a regular pamphlet ‘Webster’s Aussie cult journal’ declared himself one of the landmarks of Sydney. Always stood on a ladder announcing himself as – Here is Mr Webster’. Also spoke on Sunday nights at Wayside Chapel. Mss. 920.09441/2
Paddo Sandy	Lived on street, paid fish shop to peel his prawns, which he ate on the bus stop with a bottle of Muscat. Played mouth organ. Always paid his bills. Had over $180,000 in bank – Commonwealth Bank. Mss. 920.09441/2
Gentle Annie	Circa 1860s A gentleman dressed in a Chesterfield snuff-coloured coat – dark complexioned, with lanky hair. He rejoices in, or rather endures, the name of ‘Gentle Annie’. He carries a concertina, which he swings vigorously as he plays he sings – When the Spring time comes Gentle Annie, And the wild flowers are scattered over the plain, Shall I never more behold thee, Never hear thy gentle voice again. When the Spring time comes, Gentle Annie, When the wild flowers are scattered over the plain. As an encore he will favour ‘Rosalie’, ‘The Prairie Flower’ the chorus which ran – Fair as a lily, joyous and free, Light of the prairie home was she. Everyone that knew here, felt the gentloe power, Of Rosalie, the prairie flower. ‘Gentle Annie’ flourished in the sixtiesTHE PACIFIC Australia’s Illustrated weekly. 1923 Aug onwards. Mitchell August 24 issue article on Street Characters of Old Sydney
Bowls and Rocker	flourished in the sixties Bowls and Rocker were two veterans who had both left their legs at the Crimea War. They propelled themsleves through Sydney on their stumps. Whenever the met they would argue and fight. THE PACIFIC Australia’s Illustrated weekly. 1923 Aug onwards. Mitchell August 24 issue article on Street Characters of Old Sydney
William King	Born in London, the son of a paymaster of petty accounts in the treasury at Whitehall.He arrived in the colony in 1828, where he played a number of parts from schoolmaster to barman. THE PACIFIC Australia’s Illustrated weekly. 1923 Aug onwards. Mitchell August 24 issue article on Street Characters of Old Sydney
Garden Honey	Frederick Quick was born in Paddington, London. Usually dressed in white trousers a velveteen sac -coat and a vest with twilled shirt. He always wore a cloth cap with a flat peak surmounted a whimsical face. He was a noted wit. THE PACIFIC Australia’s Illustrated weekly. 1923 Aug onwards. Mitchell August 24 issue article on Street Characters of Old Sydney
Scavenger Dan	A song appeared in the Sydney Punch April 1865 which must have been aimed at this particular Sydney identity. It is a confusing story but pointed. One needs to remember that Sydney was not that large and eccentrics stood out and a song like this would immediately identify the victim. SCAVENGER DAN A dainty old chap is our scavenger bird, That loveth ‘midst rubbish to pick, And likes it the better the more it is stirred Tho’ every one else it makes sick How he grubbeth, and pecketh, and raketh about Each foul rotten mess that he finds, And loudly doth spout as he rooteth it out, And scatters its scent on the winds. Oh! rooting -where he safely can A rare old chap is scavenger Dan. How fondly he rooted, how closely he stuck To that famous, but dirty, old case. Disgusting to others, to him ’twas good luck, As he revelled in shame and disgrace : Then rooting, and poking away at the Works, (I wonder they didn’t him punch,) He pecked at the clerks, made them labour like Turks, And frightened them out of their Iunch. Oh! rooting like a half-starved man, A horrid old bore was scavenger Dan. No shame ever feeleth this dirty old bird, As he grabbeth and feasteth away, On carrion well will he thrive, but I’ve heard, He would rather first worry his prey. If ever he seeth a clean passer-bv, Or a gentleman with a white shirt. Full at him he’ll fly, with a yell and a cry, And bespatter him over with dirt. Oh! rooting as he only can, • A perfect old pest is scavenger Dan. Stilll prowleth about this old scavenger Dan. For a hungry old sinner is he, His very last victim’s a well-to-do man, That’s the reason he hates him, you see. So he worries and hounds him with villanous spite Quite delighted such pains to inflict, ‘ It would serve him well right, if this savage old kite Round the town were most heartily kicked. Oh.! worrying all the life out of a man, A common old nuisance is scavenger Dan. Air: The Ivy Green. Source: . Sydney Punch – April 1865.
Black Harris	“Black Harris will get you”A common Hunter Valley scare for children. Harris was a Jamaican who kept a boarding house in Bolton St.
Syrian Mary	Syrian Mary was a hawker who lived in the NSW town of Mudgee. Twice each year she would routinely walk north-west to Coolah, a distance of just over 200 kilometres return. Also travelling south-east to Lithgow and back, a return trip of over 250 kilometres, she repeated this trip each year as well. The total distance covered by her each year would have been hard to estimate, as she did not restrict her visits to people living on or near the main road. She made diversions to customers in out of the way places as well. Syrian Mary provided a valuable and welcome service to those living isolated lives away from the larger towns. She carried her goods in three baskets, one in each hand and balancing the third one on her head. Apparently she later used a pram. She walked the lonely roads and tracks of the district between the years 1890 and 1910. The bushman ‘Duke’ Tritton remembered meeting her in his early twenties, while travelling and working in the area. This would have been sometime during the latter part of the first decade of last century and he estimated her to be then in her sixties. She obviously made a significant impression on Tritton. Some fifty years later he described her “as the most remarkable woman I have ever met”. He also noted that she was “as straight as a ramrod, and walked like a queen”. To his knowledge, she never came to any harm during her travels, despite the fact that the bushranging Governor brothers roamed this area of the state. (“Once A Jolly Swagman”, by ‘Duke’ Tritton in ‘Walkabout’s Australia’, Ure Smith Pty Ltd, 1968, pp 191) Mary Byers’ childhood memories, as retold to Vicki Powys, in her book ‘Growing up at Dark Corner'(1993), add some more light on the enigmatic Syrian Mary. Mary Byers was born in 1895 and recalled a lady who used to visit the family Dark Corner home during childhood days. It seems highly plausible to assume that this visitor was Syrian Mary. It also highlights again the great distances travelled by this woman to accommodate her grateful customers in isolated areas. “Another traveller that used to come around selling things was the Syrian lady. Or perhaps she was the Assyrian lady, I’m not sure. Anyway, she sold haberdashery items, and these she carried in a big wicker basket on her head. She always wore a long black dress, and we’d see her, about every three months, walking along the road from the Palmer’s Oakey direction. She spoke just enough English to get by. With the help of some sign language too. I suppose she didn’t have a husband or children to look after; if she did we never saw any sign of them. Mum always asked her in, and the Syrian lady would spread out a tablecloth on the floor of the front verandah, and then proceed to set out all the items she had for sale, cottons, elastic, hairpins and hatpins, needles and pins, ribbons, buttons and lace, all those sorts of things. Mum used to save up so that she could buy from the Syrian lady, since she was cheaper than the shops. I never knew where she had come from or where she was going to, but she passed by our door on a regular basis.” (pp 27-28) Listen to the song here and view the lyrics here. Read an article on Syrian Mary by Jim Low here. Listen to a podcast on Syrian Mary and Charcoal Annie called Two Women Travellers here.

THE FLYING PIEMAN

The crazed exploits of William King , the Flying Pieman, have been well-documented, and here is one of half a dozen songs and poems that tell of his deeds

Warren Fahey sings ‘The Flying Pieman’ to a traditional tune he fashioned to fit the verses.

The Flying Pieman ‘Twas the close of a heavy drinking bout on port and sherry (Cape) From public, half-seas over, we had just made our escape; Our infant in its cradle was peacefully asleep, And merrily we rolled along the street of Church Hill steep. (repeat last line each verse) At length Bill Tompkins gave a shout of terror and fear, As though he just had gazed upon some stern policeman near; We looked all down the pavement, cried Tompkins, “well, I’m blowed, See where the Flying Pieman comes bounding o’er the road.” He comes! The Flying Pieman comes! And terrible his pace, He scuds along the flinty path as though he ran a race; The cards and placards in his hat all plasted on awry, Are circulated quickly, as the Pieman dashes by. He scudded on too speedily to mark his rapid flight, In fear and consternation then we staggered off, half tight; Quoth Tompkins, “When we travel home, I fear there’ll be a breeze, Our better halves will put an end to these delightful sprees.” Then mark the Flying Pieman, for comical his doom, He scuds about from morn till night, queer costumes doth assume; Around the town he beats about, forever, night and day, And boys admiring shout, “There goes the Flying Pieman, hip! hooray!”   Tune: The Flying Dutchman Source: . Colonial Society Magazine – Feb. 1865

“HUNGRY” TYSON YARNS

AUSTRALIAN PASTORALISTS’ REVIEW. JULY 16,1891

The name of Mr. James Tyson (or, as he is familiarly called – “Old Jimmy”), the Queensland millionaire, is so well known throughout this and the other colonies, says the Narrandera Ensign and as he is at present making a most determined stand against the Queensland Union shearers, perhaps the following few anecdote about the old gentleman may be of some interest. That “Jimmy” is a very eccentric fellow no one who has ever come in contact with him will deny, and he ha a made several attempts to perform big public business; attempts which would have brought a less reserved man into prominent notoriety.

The first of these was to offer to construct a line of railway from Rockhampton to the Gulf of Carpentaria, the farthest coastal point in Queensland. The recompense “James” required from the Government was three miles depth of frontage along the whole route; but the representatives of the people in Bananaland thought the offer was a bit one-sided, and declined to negotiate.

We next find Mr. Tyson in New South Wales, at the recent financial crisis, offering to take up £4,000,000 worth of Government Treasury bills at a moderate rate of interest. As the public well know, this offer was also declined.

A few years back, when the large cathedral that adorns Brisbane was in course of construction, the collector for the building fund called upon a well-known mercantile firm for a subscription, but he was politely told that he should go to the rich people of Queensland, who may be in a better position to “help the work along.”
“To whom shall I go ?” queried the collector.
“Well, go to Jimmy Tyson,” was the answer, “he has more than any of us.” (I might men- tion that up to that time “Jimmy’s” name was never seen on any list for more than £1).
“Well,” said the collector, “as Tyson is a rich man I will go to him for a donation.”
“Do,” said the head of the firm, “and whatever he gives you we will guarantee you the same amount.”
The collector, a few days after, meeting Mr Tyson, related to him what had taken place, and concluded by saying ” So, Mr. Tyson, I do not know what amount the firm is going to give until I have your name on my list.”
“Well,” said Tyson, in a gruff voice, “give me yer pen and ink and I’ll give yees a bob or two.”
“Jimmy” went into a private room and wrote out a cheque for £5000, and gave it to the astonished collector who in turn presented it to the more astonished merchant, who, however, could not ” ante up” more than a century.

On another occasion the subject of this sketch sent a lady a cheque for £300 towards a ” parsonage fund.” The lady, in a jocular manner, sent the cheque back, and asked Mr. Tyson if he bad not forgotten the other, “0” at the end of the figures. It is needless to say Mr, Tyson felt aggrieved, and immediately burnt the cheque,- and did not subscribe one shilling.

Meeting a friend on one occasion on the platform at the Orange railway station, the friend expressed surprise at seeing Mr. Tyson riding in a second-class carriage.
“Do yon know why I do ride in a second-class compartment?” said Mr. Tyson.
“No, I do not know why,” said the acquaintance.
“Well,” said “Jimmy,” “it is because there is no third-class,” and with a broad smile he resumed his seat, and the friend looked crestfallen, and went and drowned his contempt for the ” old fellow” in a bottle of Bass’ ale.

The writer of these lines was at one time engaged by Mr. Tyson for three days to do some clerical work, and when the work was completed, he (Mr. Tyson) reviewed the job, and asked me how much he had to pay me.
“Half-a-guinea a day,” was the reply.
“I wish to goodness I could use the pen as well as you do,” said Mr. Tyson; “if I could I would be a rich man in a few years.” (He had banked the day before a total of £170,000.)
“You are now a very rich man, Mr. Tyson, are you not ?” queried I.
“No, I am not,” said “Jimmy. “No man is rich until he has as much as he wants, and I have not near that yet. However, as you have done your work to my satisfaction, kindly accept my cheque for £35.”
It is not necessary for me to state here that I accepted.

Many people are under the impression that Mr. Tyson is a man devoid of all sense of liberality, but they are, in my opinion, sadly mistaken, for although he has been known to refuse a swagman a match lest he was paid for it, he has, on the other hand, been known to help widows and orphans to the tune of thousands, and when he leaves the scene of his earthly struggles, and his life is recorded, I am sure that his liberality and generosity will overbalance the charge laid against him by a certain section of the community, viz.ó parsimony.

GOD HELP US – RELIGION IN THE BUSH

Frontier settlements like Australia have typically done their work in the name of King, Country and God (strangely, financial greed is not mentioned). Even the First Fleet, with its cargo of sinners, was accompanied by parsons. The men of the cloth continued to come and try to save the souls of the colonials, and whilst they were thumping their bibles, they also tried to save the souls of the so-called ‘natives’. Skip to the most recent census, and we now find less than fifty per cent of Australians identify as Christian. It is reassuring to consider that Australia was settled as a penal colony and America as a new world by devout Christians. Today, the homicide rate in America is 500% higher than ours. Food for thought.

God’s role in Australia, which I interpret mainly as the Christian god, spanned from witnessing floggings in the convict era to Salvation Army bands beating their tambourines outside pubs as they flogged their weekly newspaper, the War Cry. The god-squad had a fairly tough time in the rum-sodden colony and the hotels of the gold fields, and things didn’t get much easier when the itinerant bush brigade, particularly the shearers, hit the lambing down shanties. The colonials were hitting the hard stuff in the cities too.

Religion did some inspiring work in looking after destitute families, abandoned children, war victims, and so many other good works.

Stories abound of country parsons, and many of these tales have entered folklore. One parson had a habit of wandering through Victoria to administer to his flock and he always took with him a saddlebag of lemon seeds, which he liberally scattered along country roads, rail tracks etc. Today, these wild gems are known as ‘parson’s lemons’.

Warren Fahey sings ‘Tolerant Man’

The 2016 census found a large majority of Australians entered ‘no religion’ on the census form. I was tempted to put ‘Callithumpian’ on mine.

In 2009 the Australian Concise Oxford Dictionary deemed ‘Callithumpian’ its ‘Australian word of the month’, explaining its history –

In 1892 the Sydney Truth newspaper asked: ‘What are calathumpians? There are four of them in New South Wales. Who founded that religion? It is not known in England.’ The next time we encounter the term calathumpian is in the Adelaide Advertiser in 1903 as the name of an Australian Rules Football team called the ‘Calathumpian Rovers’. By 1925 in the Sydney Truth, the Australian sense is becoming clearer: ‘Whether Mr Hartigan is a Catholic, Congregationalist, or Calathumpian doesn’t matter a tinker’s cuss to the average Australian.’ In later uses (and usually with the spelling Callithumpian) the term is sometimes used as the equivalent of a generic ‘religious beliefs of any kind’: ‘Tony Abbot has not disguised the fact that the objective is to reduce the rate of abortions in Australia. What’s wrong with setting up an anti-abortion counselling service— whether the counsellors are Muslim, Catholic or Callithumpian?’ (Australian, 2 January 2007). By the 1970s, callithumpian broadened from its earlier religious focus, and came to be used also to refer to beliefs (especially political) of any kind. Here is a very typical political instance: ‘He hoped that the euthanasia debate would not become politicised as it was not about “Labor, Liberal, National Party, Callithumpian”’ (Australian, 30 September, 1996). The following example alludes to economic views: ‘Results from these formal models always rest heavily on the model-builder’s assumptions—including their prior beliefs about whether the economy works in a neoclassical or Keynesian or Callithumpian way’ (Sydney Morning Herald, 18 June 2007). All these uses of callithumpian are Australian. The word exists in American English, but there it has a very different meaning. It designates a band made up of discordant instruments ‘such as tin horns, bells, rattles and similar instruments’. Such bands are used in merrymaking on occasions such as New Year’s Eve or the Fourth of July, and in the past they were sometimes used by a community that disapproved of a marriage or was jokingly celebrating a marriage— much like the European charivari. The Australian and American uses, with such different meanings, go back to an identical British dialect word gallithumpian. The gally part of the word probably means ‘to frighten, scare; to confuse with noise’, and thump means ‘to beat’. This would explain the origin of the raucous sounds of the American callithumpian band. It does not so easily explain the Australian callithumpian. The English Dialect Dictionary provides two clues. First, in Lancashire, Dorset, and Devon in the nineteenth century, the gallithumpians were ‘a society of social reformers’. Secondly, in Dorset and Devon in the eighteenth century the gallithumpians were ‘disturbers of order at parliamentary elections’. It was from these political and social rebels that the Australian callithumpians developed, although they were often people (unlike their British forebears) who did not want to make known the precise nature of their political, social, or political beliefs.

I had the word from my father, George Fahey, who often referred to himself as a ‘Callithumpian’. I hadn’t thought of the word for decades. In truth, my father, although raised a Roman Catholic, was an atheist, and, at one stage, a member of the Rationalists Association of New South Wales.

It’s interesting to speculate on the history and role of religion in early Australia. Certainly, the convict class, feeling remorse, and also the restrictions of incarceration, understandably often turned to God for relief. Church attendance for convicts was compulsory. Those indentured on farms and workhouses were also expected to attend a weekly church service. Considering the convicts were expected to wash and, for the men, shave, church was possibly seen by the authorities as an opportunity to improve the overall health of the community.

As a penal colony, New South Wales was portrayed as being next to Hell. Religion was seen as part of the system and attendance and observation part of the convict’s return journey to ‘civilised’ society. Despatches from the young Colony also told of debauchery between the sexes. This ‘convict stain’ also spread to the other colonies who had convicts. Convict free South Australia was viewed as a much safer place for emigration, especially for women. Adelaide was, of course, doubly blessed with a reputation of ‘city of churches’.

Many of the transportation ballads call on God for forgiveness or, as in several of the Come All Ye type of song, end with ‘Thank God I am set free.”

Back in NSW the Reverend Samuel Marsden was probably not a good poster boy for his church. Known as the ‘Flogging Parson’ he has gone down in history as unnecessarily cruel and seemingly intent on ‘converting’ his convicts through thrashings with the ‘cat-o-nine-tails whip.

It is surprising there are no songs ridiculing this clergyman.

Samuel Marsden (25 June 1765 – 12 May 1838) was an English born Anglican cleric and a prominent member of the Church Missionary Society, believed to have introduced Christianity to New Zealand. He was a prominent figure in NSW history and was senior Anglican cleric, but also for his employment of convicts for farming and his actions as a magistrate at Parramatta, both of which attracted contemporary criticism.

Later poets commented on Marsden including John Degate in his song ‘The Answer’s Ireland‘

Who raised a ruckus at Castle Hill, who there defied the crown?
‘Twas the same rebel boys who in ’98 ‘gainst odds would not lie down.
Oh, but they made Samuel Marsden fret and ruffled silver tails,
Why, the words “Croppy Pike” were enough to strike fear into New South Wales.

Kenneth Slessor also recalled the man in Vesper Song of the Reverend Samuel Marsden including the lines Lord, I have sung with ceaseless lips

Lord, I have sung with ceaseless lips
A tinker’s litany of whips,

The early settlers also looked out for higher assistance. Loneliness played on the soul of early settlements. There is probably nothing like loneliness to dance on the conscience and to make one think of a higher being. Misfortune such as drought, bushfire, death and so forth needed a reason so that the survivors could continue living. Certainly, many of diaries of early settlers and itinerant workers referred to God. Others preferred to rely on humour for survival.

The discovery of gold in 1851 didn’t do much to promote the Lord. On the contrary, most diggers only had one thing on their mind – gold. Grog would have run a good second and there were a lot more drinking shanties on the goldfields than prayer tents.

Newspaper reports point to the difficulty of attracting sufficient miners to regular goldfield services. In some cases the ministers abandoned the Lord in favour of hunting for gold.When gold petered out the diggers moved to a new rush, however, some stayed behind and the nucleus of a town replaced the tent city. Most large gold towns, if one could call them ‘towns’, had a community hall, general store, post office and a newspaper office.

When gold petered out the diggers moved to a new rush, however, some stayed behind and the nucleus of a town replaced the tent city. Most large gold towns, if one could call them ‘towns’, had a community hall, general store, post office and a newspaper office. With permanency, the next building was usually a church, often a shared facility catering for various faiths.

What we do know is that from the goldrush onwards a seemingly never-ending flow of evangelical ministers arrived to ‘save souls for their Lord’.

Community churches, and they came in all shapes and sizes, often built by volunteer labour, became a focus of many communities because of the necessities of birth, death and marriage. At the same time distance, as always in Australia, was a major problem. There was also the demanding nature of outback life – farming, husbands away working, sick stock, bad weather etc. That said, the church was an opportunity for socialising, especially for young people, a rarity in early outback Australia.

Churches were also educators with some religions establishing schools. Some of the larger old towns like Bendigo, Ballarat, Goulburn and Bathurst built exceptionally large schools. The Methodist and Presbyterian were also active in establishing Sunday Schools. Many early travelling clergy also staged magic lantern shows – often with bible slides – to assist their work. Reverend John Flynn, known as ‘Flynn of the Outback’, had an extensive range of magic lantern slides, including general interest programs.

Many of the travelling clergy were often of the fire and brimstone variety, no doubt outraged by the Australian consumption of alcohol. Later in the 19th century, the Temperance Societies toured such preachers. Singing against wicked alcohol was part of their service and the T.S. published its own songbooks. The songs were fairly ordinary and many adapted from those of their British and American counterpart organisations.

The Observer Hobart 2 Sept 1845

NEW TOTAL ABSTINENCE PUBLICATION.-A “Tasmanian Total Abstinence Song Book” has just been published. As a specimen of the production, we give the following. By the way, is it not a pity to omit the tune to which these striking verses should be sung.’

MODERATION MUDDLERS.

Ye men of sops, and little drops,

Ye moderation muddlers, Ye are the seed that raise the breed

Of regular drunken fuddlers. You all preach up a little sup,

And think you’re mighty sure all ; You talk away, but still we say,

” Abstain’s the only cure all.”

The Salvation Army also thought to save souls and was particularly active in Australia. General Booth toured twice. Salvation Army bands are covered in the Musical Instrument section of this site.

DRINKING SONG      

(The licensee of a hotel has complained to the Caulfield Council that the Salvation Army drummer plays the drum so loud that the customer’s orders for drinks cannot be heard.

When the wine was flowing freely And the beer was frothing  Well, then came a sudden tumult  What it was I couldn’t tell – 

But when I raised my voice for rum The barmaid gave me gin, and mine host  He tore his whiskers at this most unnerving din.  

Yes! The pint pots danced a polka, And the barmaid yelled unheard So I popped my head into the street   To see what had occurred.

Twas the boom, boom, boom of the Army  The boom, boom, boom of the drum Twas the joyous thunder of the Army  That drowned my lusty call for rum.  

I’ve listened to sweet music over sherry, And heard a tenor solo with my beer. I’ve heard an organ-grinder grinding organs   Without ever feeling queer.    

I’ve heard street corner mezzos sounding throaty While I drank a foaming pint and nibbled cheese; And I’ve heard a viol’s tortured Irish ditties Come wafted on a porter-smelling breeze:  

But I’d never seen the pint pots rattle madly,   Or a barmaid growing purple in the face  Until I found that little pub in Rosstown When the Army nearly drummed down the place

Oh that boom, boom, boom of the Army That frenzied altercation on the drum!  Twas the radiant thunder of the Army That drowned my hundredth call for rum

SOURCE

The Argus 28 July 1934

Sideshow Alley Freak Shows

(Warren Fahey) As a kid growing up in the 1950s, the two highlights of the year were Bonfire Night and the Sydney Royal Easter Show. I saved up for both by doing odd jobs and retrieving the deposit from soft drink bottles. My money went on bags of fireworks for Cracker Night, and at the Easter show, it went on sample bags, rides and some very weird sideshows.

The first Show was staged at Parramatta in 1923, a year after Sydney’s landed gentlemen had formed the Agricultural Society of New South Wales. Parramatta, at the time, was the centre of colonial agriculture.

By 1870 the Agricultural Society was growing, and so was their annual exposition. It was a showcase for breeding stock, an opportunity to buy and sell and, most importantly, a marketplace for new inventions in agriculture.

In 1869 the Society had called “Tally Ho!” and relocated to a larger space at Prince Alfred Park – where they could “bring the country to the city”. They soon outgrew the park and commenced looking for a new home.

By the 1880s, Australia was economically riding high with record wool, beef and wheat exports and a deal was struck for the Society to take a ten-pounda-year lease on 40 acres of rough scrubby land at Moore Park. In 1882 the first show was staged at what became the Sydney Showground.

The first shows proved very popular with the public, who were keen to see the exhibits, especially the exotic animals, which included llamas, camels, alpacas and ostriches.

By the 1920s, weird and wonderful shows had been added to the agricultural attractions. This was the era of spiritualism, freaks and wonders. Sydney couldn’t get enough freakishness and craziness – and Sideshow Alley was born.

Tent shows have a long history in Australia. Even before the 1850s goldrush we were prepared to be taken in, offer up our pocket money, and gawk at a headless lady or some other improbably sight.

Some of the early showmen certainly relied on suckers being born every minute. “Come and see the biggest mug in Australia”, shouted the showman and when you entered his tent you saw your own reflection in a mirror! Another tantalisingly yelled, “Only sixpence to see the man-eating fish” and, on entering the tent, there was indeed a man-eating fish – and chips!

It was the curious, exotic and freakish that most punters wanted to see. Here is Mexican Rose – the biggest and, according to the spruiker, the most beautiful woman ever exhibited. She was 343 kilos and had a sling and crane to move her in and out of the tent. On the other side of the ally were the mother and son billed as ‘The world’s fattest humans’.

Betty Broadbent – the tattooed lady offered 460 designs head to feet. Her largest was on her back and portrayed the Madonna & Child.

Tam Tam, the Leopard Man from Ethiopia – the strangest man alive – causing amazement in scientific circles. ‘Very intelligent and religious’ – his skin is slowly turning white, and he is spotted like a leopard. One thousand pounds if not alive and genuine.

Jo Jo the dog-faced man. “Lady, stand back. He bites.”

There was a famous real dog too. ‘Dan’, billed as ‘The largest dog in the world’ was a massive St Bernard the ‘showie’, Les Short, had bought for 400 pounds in Switzerland. There was also Wee Walla, the world’s smallest trotter and Wee Willy, the world’s smallest racehorse.

Pig-a-Dilly Circus must have been a sight. Six little pigs “that do everything except talk – the most wonderful animal act in the world” These wee pigs did acrobatics and circus clown acts and staged a ‘pig fight’ in a tiny boxing ring.

“And here we have Princess Pontus, the gigantic Amazonian head hunter. Standing 8’ 2” and weighing 305 kilos, this huge woman graphically describes the customs and rites of the almost extinct Amazon head hunters.”

Exceptionally tall people (or very short people) were an attraction with more than one being billed as “the tallest person in the world”. Lanky Bill, from the Isle of Man, was a towering 8’ 9’’ and claimed to have sold his body after he died to the Surgeon’s Research Society of England for 1000 pounds. Dennis O’Duffy was 8’ 51/2 and still growing at 26.

The roar of screaming motorbikes was also a drawcard – especially the female riders, Pat Gamble and Jean Duke – Hell’s Drivers on the motordome’s Wheel of Death.

Without a doubt, one of the most enduring attractions was the pygmy Ubangi from Central Africa. Brought to Australia aged 30 by veteran showman Dave Meekin, in 1949, she toured all over Australia as ‘the tree-dwelling woman’ and ‘pygmy princess’ (Ubangi was 25 inches high), and, according to the sideshow spruiker, “You are looking at a very wealthy woman.” Other exotics included young Jang – the wild boy from Borneo, Indian mystic, Chanda Abdulla, and his mysterious Indian rope trick (“How did he do that!” and Venitia, the snake charmer.

Showies typically paid their performers 40% of the profits, which could be a considerable amount in a good season.

One of the saddest exhibitions was Chong Chang the pinheaded Chinaman. Considered a curious freak (his head was the size of an orange), he suffered from the then-unknown incurable condition of microcephaly and abnormally small brain development.

In 1948 the RAS banned freak shows and performing animal acts.

The Travesty Wild Man was part of the new sideshow alley where deception was acceptable. Seated in a pit he had long shaggy hair, a wild beard and large vicious tusks in his mouth. “He don’t like his meat cooked, ladies and gentlemen”, yelled the showman. When the wild man attacked the raw meat thrown into the pit he grunted in appreciation with blood dribbling down his chin. Bystanders were taken back one day when a friend passed by and the wild man gave him a wink.

Anna John Budd was another curious show. Billed as Canada’s living wonder he was half man and half woman. From one side a muscular, sinewy developed man and yet the other side revealed the aspects of a naturally formed woman.

Proving there’s a sucker born every minute one of sideshow alley’s biggest success stories was Madam Zena’s Circus of Performing Fleas “Madam is the only female flea trainer in the world and she has brought to Sydney over 200 clever fleas”. To which Madam Zena would explain to the open-mouthed crowd, “Sydney fleas are lazy. I buy them sometimes paying as much as 2/6 each. I get them from the Kings Cross Picture Show and boarding houses. But they don’t live long – they prefer to such blood than jump through hoops, waltz and do other tricks.”

The sound of the beating bass drum heralded the next session of Jimmy Sharman’s Boxing Troupe. Established in 1911 it ran until 1971. The members of the troupe were experienced boxers including the Aboriginal boxer Dave Sands who was described as ‘one of the greatest boxers never to have won a world title.” Although most of the audience believed the fights were staged, there was usually some mug in the audience who thought he’s have a go and claim the ten pound prize. Some times they did. The merry-go-rounds, beating drums and hubbub of sideshow alleys have now been replaced with amplified music, high-pitch advertising and the bump and whirl of mechanical rides. The Royal Easter Show relocated to Homebush Olympic Park in 1997, taking with it decades of memories that are now rapidly slipping into time.