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Jim Davidson, Moments in Time: a Book of Australian Postcards
Jim Davidson, Moments in Time: a book of Australian postcards
National Library of Australia, 2016, paperback $44.99 ISBN 9780642278777
The humble postcard enjoyed a relatively brief but spectacular place in postage history roughly from the 1890s to the 1920s. They were cheap and attractive and enjoyed a reduced postage rate. In 1906 alone the Sydney GPO handled more than 12 million of them. Many more which were not posted were tucked into postcard albums, to remind their owner of past travels or to impress visitors. Jim Davidson, a postcard collector and historian, has now compiled what amounts to a social history of Australia as depicted in its postcards. In this handsome book, full of nostalgic glimpses of an earlier time, he displays close to 300 of them, almost all from the National Library’s remarkable collection. Grouped by themes such as the beach, country towns, disasters, hotels, the military and politics, he demonstrates how postcards reflected and recorded our country in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Thanks to keen collectors, and libraries like the National Library, these small but important pieces of evidence about our past have been preserved when they could so easily have been jettisoned as more efficient forms of communication emerged and captured the imagination and interest of the public. Now we can all enjoy them and learn from them. Neil Radford 2016Sydney’s shipwrecks
Last week news broke that HMS Terror, the long-lost ship of British polar explorer (and former Governor of Tasmania) Sir John Franklin, has been found 168 years after its sinking. I thought I’d delve into the Dictionary of Sydney and explore some of Sydney’s shipwrecks for 2SER Breakfast this morning.
This city’s worst maritime tragedy would be the wreck of the Dunbar. On the night of Thursday 20 August 1857, after 81 days at sea, the Dunbar arrived off Sydney Heads. Treacherous weather conditions forced Dunbar aground at The Gap. The impact shattered the ship and the lifeboats were destroyed by the pounding seas. All but one of the 122 people on board perished that night. The lone survivor, crewman James Johnson, was hurled onto the rocks where he somehow managed to climb to safety, while his fellow passengers were flung up against the cliffs below. At the funeral procession four days later every ship in harbour flew their ensigns at half mast, guns were fired every minute, banks and offices were closed, and over 100 carriages passed in front of the 20,000 people lined on George Street. Another tragic incident occurred not far from the Opera House. On 3 November 1927 a ferry named Greycliffe collided with the mail steamer, Tahiti, as she made her usual trip from Circular Quay to Watsons Bay. Newspapers published witness accounts of Tahiti cutting through the Greycliffe ferry like a knife, ‘shearing through the steelwork and wooden superstructure as though it were so much as a matchboard’. Within seconds, one half of the ferry slipped under the water while the other was still afloat with people scrambling for their lives. The space in front of the Fort Macquarie Tram Depot, which is where the Opera House now stands, became a temporary casualty station as ambulance vehicles rushed between the site and Sydney Hospital. In total, 40 people lost their lives with the victim’s ages ranging from 2 to 81 years old. Along with the Dunbar wreck, the Greycliffe sinking is considered one of the city’s worst maritime tragedies. Maroubra Beach has been the site of many maritime disasters. In 1898, the iron clipper Hereward was on her way to Newcastle when she encountered a storm and was flung toward the shore of Maroubra Beach. The ship luckily avoided two rocky reefs and the 25 crew members were brought safely ashore. The wreck lay on the beach for decades until the local council began blasting the remnants in 1950 as a result of safety concerns. However, pieces of hull have re-emerged in more recent years, reminding beachgoers of Sydney’s shipwreck past. Listen to the Nicole & Nic's chat here and tune in to 2SER Breakfast with Nic Healey on 107.3 every Wednesday morning at 8:15-8:20 am to hear more from the Dictionary of Sydney. Listen nowThe Garden Palace, objects and memories
James Colman, The House that Jack Built: Jack Mundey Green Bans Hero
James Colman, The House that Jack Built: Jack Mundey Green Bans Hero,
NewSouth, Sydney, 2016, paperback $49.99, ISBN 9781742235011
Readers of the Dictionary of Sydney with an interest in heritage, conservation, urban planning and design – or the lack of it – and urban history and politics will find Jim Colman’s highly readable book insightful and stimulating. Colman has not simply produced a biography of the famous activist, conservationist, communist and unionist, Jack Mundey, though his book has certainly achieved this. He has written a beautifully contextualised history of the urban environmental movement in Sydney from the late 1960s. Though other places in Australia and overseas are mentioned from time-to-time, this book is about Sydney. Colman lived through the times and events that he writes about and his philosophical and political positions on heritage and the environment are clear. But the book is not partisan. Drawing on a raft of historical evidence, Colman provides a balanced account of the last half-century of Sydney’s urban growth and activism. He pays particularly attention – perhaps around one third of the book – to the turbulent 1970s. As the book’s title suggests, the Green Bans are the main focus here. (A total of 42 green bans were imposed from 1971 to 1975, stopping around $4 billion of construction.) And The Rocks, appropriately, attracts special treatment. A green ban was placed on The Rocks from November 1971 until 1975 which stymied Sydney Cove Redevelopment Authority’s (SCRA) scheme for the virtual destruction of the historic area. SCRA responded by modifying its scheme on a number of occasions but these were rejected by the local Residents Action Group with the Builders Labourers’ Federations (BLF) backing. Mundey was its radical, high profile secretary. When one of these revised plans was sent back in early March 1973, a newspaper reporter observed that ‘the most powerful town planning agency operating within NSW at the moment is the BLF’. In August 1973, Mundey put the BLF’s position bluntly: ‘My federation will lift its ban when the residents are satisfied with what is being put forward by the authority’. New plans eliminated high-rise buildings to accord with the ‘people’s plan’ and the Sirius Apartment building was constructed to provide public housing for displaced local residents. Ultimately, the area’s history and heritage – colonial and working-class – was recognised and SCRA – somewhat shamelessly – dropped the word ‘Redevelopment’ from its name. The ‘battle for The Rocks’ was a major, perhaps the major urban coup for the heritage movement in Australia. It destabilized the dominant ideology of progress which had largely gone unchallenged throughout Australia’s past and brought to the fore participatory democracy in civic affairs. It is not co-incidental that a raft of state heritage legislation, amongst the earliest in Australia, was drafted and passed not long after this landmark and other associated struggles such as that over Woolloomooloo: NSW’s Heritage Act came into being in 1977, the Environmental Planning and Assessment Act was passed two years later and the Land and Environment Court Act brought that jurisdiction into being in 1979. The House that Jack Built does not present Mundey or the environmental movement in a celebratory light. Rather, it paints a realistic picture of the movement from – literally – go to woe. Ironically, the Sirius Apartment Building in The Rocks is both an artefact and a symbol of the battle for The Rocks and broader developments in the heritage movement and participatory democracy. Recently, the Heritage Council of New South Wales adopted a nomination to have the building listed on the State Heritage Register. But this was rejected by the Minister, Mark Speakman, who insisted that this did not indicate an attitude of ‘money trumps heritage’. But it clearly does during a time in the history of the environmental movement that has seen heritage legislation and agencies gutted and the Federal Productivity Commission call for greater rights for private property. It can only be hoped, as Colman does, that we do not see a complete return ‘to the cowboy days of Sydney’s property boom in the 1960s’ (p287). Paul Ashton August 2016Sydney sayings
Don't forget that History Week starts this Saturday! You can also download the full History Week 2016 program here!
History Week 2016
Colonial neighbours: Reynolds' cottages
Did you know there are three cottages side by side on Harrington Street in The Rocks which have survived for 187 years! Writer and historian, Melissa Holmes, has researched extensively about Reynolds’ cottages and their previous inhabitants for the Dictionary of Sydney. In the lead up to the History Council of NSW's History Week 2016: Neighbours, let's take a look at the colonial neighbours of Reynolds' cottages.
Reynolds’ cottages were built in 1829 and are among the earliest dwellings in The Rocks, coming just behind Cadmans Cottage which was built 200 years ago in 1816. The story of these cottages reflects the changing area of The Rocks, from penal colony, to working-class neighbourhood and now ‘heritage theme park’.
These cottages came about after Thomas Ryan, a convicted forger, exploited his position as a clerk at the Colonial Secretary’s Office to evict the baker and convict James Rampling in 1825. Rampling tried to argue his case to continue his bakehouse, but Ryan, as chief clerk in the Principal Superintendent Office of Convicts, denied his application on the basis that Rampling was still a Prisoner of the Crown. Four years later, two cottages at 28 and 30 Harrington Street were built by convict labour.
Originally the cottages were one-room deep, with a shingled roof, brick walls and timber floors. Ryan sold the cottages to William Reynolds in 1830 for £100. Reynolds was an Irish blacksmith who had been transported for life to the colony for highway robbery. He worked for William Redfern, the naval surgeon and inspiration for the inner city suburb of Redfern. Eventually, Reynolds set up home in one of the cottages, and his blacksmith’s forge in the other, and in 1834, he built the third cottage at 32 Harrington Street. Within a few years, Reynolds had gone from highwayman to successful property owner in The Rocks.
After Reynolds’ death in 1840, his children Maurice and Margaret inherited the property which transformed from a family home and business to a boarding house. Maurice died when he fell off a horse in 1877, and Margaret died of ‘senile decay’ in the Hospital for the Insane in Parramatta in 1894. The cottages passed through different hands and gradually fell into disrepair as The Rocks area became more known for its disreputable traits, including its push gangs which congregated in the area around the cottages.
Despite its dilapidated state and the plague hitting the area in 1900, Reynolds’ cottages still stood. And thanks to the green bans of the 1970s, the cottages survived and operated as a cafe and antique store for many years.
If you’re interested in hearing more, Melissa Holmes will be talking about the cottage neighbours William Reynolds and Francis Greenway, the famous architect and convicted forger, during the History Council of NSW’s History Week festival next month! Her talk will be delivered on site at 28 Harrington Street on Sunday 11 September,11:00am-1:30pm. Don’t miss out! Book here.
If you missed today’s segment, you can catch up here via the 2SER website. Listen now Tune in to 2SER Breakfast with Nic Healey on 107.3 every Wednesday morning at 8:15-8:20 am to hear more from the Dictionary of Sydney.You can also download the full History Week 2016 program here!