The Dictionary of Sydney team thanks you for your support over the last year, and wishes you a happy and prosperous 2013! You can read more about the history of New Years Eve in Sydney in Hannah Forsyth's entry on the Dictionary, and the article below from the Australian Town &  Country Journal, 11 January 1902 - some things never change it seems!

The city streets were given up to the customary abandonment of joy and delirium of excitement on New Year's Eve. It seemed as though all the population had centred itself in George, King, and Pitt streets, the block from the G.P.O. to Market-street being one mass of struggling humanity. The crowd began to assemble early in the evening, and had assumed its largest proportions about ll o'clock. Long before this hour, the rowdy element had begun to get in its fine work. Regiments of small boys, playing large trumpets and other instruments, which gave forth the vilest of sounds, marched through the streets. Adults followed their example, and having exhausted their enthusiasm in that way, made for the footpaths again. The various arcades were, of course, densely crowded. Our illustration on page 21 depicts the crowd in the Strand, and is rather remarkable, as it is an example of instantaneous flashlight photography. The ordinary flashlight is done with a time exposure, but, as the crowd was in motion, this would have been impossible in the present case, and the picture had therefore to be taken instantaneously. Good-humored chaff was indulged in at the outset, but the rough portion of the crowd, fortified by the usual New Year potations, carried things much farther. It was their delight to block the foot paths, to hustl and finally "bonnet" inoffensive citizens, who were timorously avoiding them, to heave bags of flour at passers-by in the carriage way, and to generally make night hideous. For a time the stream of people would be pouring along the footpaths in the most orderly fashion, then there would be a series of rushes and some unfortunate would be seen fleeing as if for his life. This state of affairs was continued right up to midnight, when the ringing of bells, the roaring of voices, the blast of trumpets, and the screeching of the thousand and one noisemakers, made known the fact that 1902 had arrived. Then the restrained portion of the Swimming Carnival at Kiama on New Year's Day crowd joined with the rest, and abandon reigned supreme. Handshakings followed the compliments of the season were exchanged; some more fun had its play; then gradually the people melted away, and sought their homes to rest ere the enjoyment of the holiday began. Such was the scene in the streets at midnight: but a more solemn and reverential ceremony took place in the churches, where the customary watchnight services were held. There was a large congregation at St. Andrew's Cathedral, where the Archbishop preached. He gave the sermon a general appropriateness, taking no text. At midnight he paused, and the "Old Hundredth" was sung by the congregation. At St. Mary's Cathedral there was also a large congregation. It is interesting  to note that the custom of ringing out the old and ringing in the new year originated at the Cathedral on December 31, 1843. On that occasion a new peal of eight bells was used  for the first time. Seen from Balmain heights, as the midnight chimes rang at the General Post Office, the spectacle was a fine one, as no fewer than five huge bonfires, the materials of which had evidently been soaked with kerosene, suddenly shot up their flames from the city into the air, tinting the sky, and in comparison almost obscuring the moon. Meanwhile the whistles on all the ferry steamers were kept blowing, and continued the fearful noise for about fifteen minutes. The roaring and noise in town, though dimmed by the distance to a murmur, was plainly noticeable. In Balmain and suburbs things were generally very quiet, those most disposed to celebrate the dying of one year and the birth of another by noise having gone to the city to add to the pandemonium there.