Francis Greenway: convict architect in Sydney

Francis Greenway (1777–1837) was born near Bristol and became something of a well known architect in Bristol and Bath. It is not clear to me what when wrong with his career or personal life, but he came to grief with the law. In 1809 Greenway was declared bankrupt, and in 1812 he was charged with forging a financial document and was found guilty. The punishment, rather harsh I thought, was death, later commuted to 14 years transportation to Australia.

Only one good thing came out of this horrible era. Greenway had been friendly with Arthur Phillip (ex Governor of NSW) who was living in retirement at Bath, and Phillip wrote to Lachlan Macquarie (current Governor of NSW), recommending Greenway to him.

Hyde Park Barracks, main entrance

Greenway arrived in Sydney in Feb 1814 to serve his sentence and was soon given work as a colonial architect. My major reference for this era is Shaping Sydney by Chris Johnson. Johnson reported that Greenway first met Macquarie in July 1814 and it was during this meeting that Macquarie mentioned wanting a new town hall and a new courthouse. What is certain is that Greenway was appointed Acting Civil Architect and Assistant Engineer in March 1816.

Between 1816-18, Convict Greenway was responsible for the design & construction of colonial buildings! So successful was he that the Governor of New South Wales, Lachlan Macquarie, gave Greenway his ticket of leave. He was a free man. And as Acting Civil Architect, he went on to build many significant buildings in the new colony.

Hyde Park Barracks, convicts' sleeping space

The first Governor of New South Wales, Captain Arthur Phillip, had a very flimsy residence that badly needed remodelling. By 1816 Francis Greenway was commissioned to construct a substantial extension and ballroom by Governor Macquarie, transforming Phillip's house into an Italianate cottage. The stables commissioned for the house by Macquarie in 1816 still stand in the Botanic Gardens today, and form a facade for the Sydney Conservatorium of Music. And Greenway also designed the Macquarie Lighthouse in 1818 to guide ships entering the Heads at Sydney Harbour. Built of sandstone quarried on site, the material was so soft that it eventually eroded and had to be replaced, but the original design is still intact.

Sydney has 49 extant buildings attributed to Greenway's designs. If these buildings had been in Melbourne, and had been built several decades later, Greenway might have been asked to design banks, gold safes, the royal mint and a customs office. But early Sydney had a penal population, so they required facilities more suited to law and order.

St James' Church

I want to concentrate on three main Greenway designs: Hyde Park Barracks and St James Church, both of which were finished during his working career, and the Supreme Court House, which was finished after Greenway retired from architecture.

Greenway sited the Hyde Park Barracks directly opposite St James Church in Macquarie St. And the courthouse was built on a site immediately to the west of St James Church, thus forming a linear relationship with both the church and the barracks. Johnson showed that Greenway was clearly interested in the individual buildings AND in a total civic context for the new city.

St James' Church, looking towards the apse

Constructed by convict labour, the Hyde Park Barracks became the principal male convict residence in New South Wales, providing lodgings for convicts working in government employment gangs around Sydney. Inside the tall brick walls of the barracks, convicts were mustered daily and marched to worksites around town. Their tools, equipment, food and clothing were also supplied by convicts, people who had been skilled in cobbling, weaving, carpentry before their deportation from Britain.

The barracks remained in active service until 1848, and now the building functions as an excellent museum of colonial Sydney.

St James’ Church, designed by Greenway in 1819 in the Old Colonial Regency style, was originally designed as a courthouse – a purpose revealed by two strange, non-clerical elements: the very large western gallery and the central positioning of the porch. The building wasn’t consecrated as a church until 1824, so clearly there were already Anglican churches in the colony. Nonetheless Gov Macquarie saw this church as one of the key elements of his town plan for Sydney and St James’ Church became the site in which the first Bishop of Australia was installed, in 1836.

The interior of the church, which today looks as it was following the renovations of 1900-1902, faces east. Note the sanctuary that is set within an apse with gold mosaic semi-dome. The sanctuary has marble and mosaic flooring, and is flanked by the organ and choir. The church connection to law and order is still celebrated today: the beginning of the legal year is marked with a church service attended by the Supreme Court justices, fully robed up.

In July 1813, Governor Macquarie, aware of the need for a court house in Sydney, started a public subscription for the building. An appeal was launched, but few of the settlers shared the official enthusiasm. Soon the appeal was abandoned and Governor Macquarie reluctantly decided that if he was to have a court house, it would have to be built with convict labour.

He engaged an architect to produce a design for the building. When the plans for a two-storey building with two wings and a Doric portico were finished, Gov Macquarie sent the plans and a request for funds to Earl Bathurst, the Secretary of State for the Colonies in London. But funds were denied.

Supreme Court

It was not until 6 years later, in October 1819, that Macquarie set the foundation stone of "a large and commodious court house' designed by Francis Greenway. As I mentioned, the site was at the western end of St James' Church! A guest at the ceremony was Commissioner John Thomas Bigge who had recently arrived from England to conduct a Royal Commission of inquiry into the colony.

Alas Bigge intervened and Macquarie felt he had to follow Bigge’s advice. Greenway set about converting the design for the court house and work proceeded. However the building was still incomplete when Macquarie left the colony in Dec 1821. Greenway protested to Macquarie's successor, Governor Sir Thomas Brisbane. But Brisbane would not debate architecture with an ex-convict. Thereafter Greenway's relations with officialdom went downhill, until he was dismissed from the Government service in 1822.

After his dismissal, Greenway strongly criticised the work being done on “his” courthouse. Apart from the circular staircase, the Doric portico at the western end of the building, the window treatment and certain recessed wall panels, quite a lot of Greenway's original design did not survive. Still, in 1824, the first Chief Justice of NSW read the Charter of Justice establishing the Supreme Court of New South Wales. The building itself was completed by 1828.

Greenway on the ten dollar note

Greenway’s architectural career in Australia, which started in such a flurry in 1814, was largely over in less than 10 years. He died in 1837, aged 59. Today he is memorialised on Australia's ten dollar note.

Travel posters: Harwich to Hook 1930s-50s

I have always had a passion for travel posters. By the late 19th century the art work for travel posters was already very interesting, but at that stage, most ordinary families realised that the promised excitement of Venice or Cairo was not meant for them.

Day and night services on the three sister ferries

It was only just before WW2 broke out and especially after it ended that package holidays opened up travel options for the non-wealthy. So it was very interesting to hear of a travel poster exhibition at the National Railway Museum in York Feb-Sep 2010. Called Once Upon a Tide, North Sea Ferry Tales, this exhibition has focused on the romance and excitement of international travel. In partnership with the National Railway Museum in the Netherlands, York Museum’s excellent poster collection has been used to explore the Harwich-Hook ferry route.

The NRM curators reminded the modern viewer that since 1867, ferries transporting passengers to Holland have been one of Britain’s main links with Europe. The first ferry, the Avalon, took 13 hours to steam from Harwich in Britain to the coast of Holland. But bigger, faster ships soon followed.

And the trip represented more than just a connection to the Dutch coastline. In 1890, the service began calling at Hook; and Hook was itself connected to the rest of Europe by rail in 1904. For the next 60 years, a system of boat trains linked with the day and night sailings from Harwich.

Visitors to the exhibition can explore the personal recollections of travellers throughout over 100 years of North Sea crossings, and from Hook to Europe’s holiday hot spots, including Switzerland, Berlin and Rome.

elegant Berlin café society, 1925

Almost always, the posters relied on powerful graphic design. The images were simple, the posters were not cluttered with too much text and the colours were clear and strong. The poster designers had to assume that they had only 30 seconds of the viewer’s time to impress the eye and to attract his/her closer attention. In the case of modern and efficient transport, the images had to be dynamic; the angled windows and sleek ships gave the posters a feeling of movement.

Once travel became a realistic option for the non-wealthy, a myriad of travel destinations competed for tourists. Posters had to lure tourists to Paris, Amsterdam, Venice and many other places. The poster-mad travel industry elevated advertising to an art form by romanticising and stylising their product, including the methods of transport and the possible destinations. The glamorous world of European café society and wide boulevards was a recurring theme of the advertising campaigns before WW2. Even service on board the ferry looked both modern and attentive.

The ferry trip

A fine poster showed the three sister ferries (Prague, Vienna and Amsterdam - see above) that were built by John Brown of Clydebank in 1929. The Antwerp 1920 was also visible on the left side of the poster.

Harwich to Hook

The Blue Lantern blog has raised another important point. In parallel to the travel posters, consider the emergence of beautifully illustrated travel magazines in the 1930s, directed at women. New styles in clothing offered freedom of movement and there was the possibility of adventure, especially at slightly exotic beach resorts. Examine the superbly simple graphic design in the travel advertisements that Jane selected.

Garden Palace: Sydney's Exhibition Building 1879

The 1879 Sydney International Exhibition was held under the supervision of NSW’s Agricultural Society. There was initially some discussion about the Exhibition commemorating Cook’s discovery of Australia’s East coast. But a more urgent theme was emerging: a national interest in technical & industrial development, both in tertiary education and in the creation of museums.

After all, the Inter-colonial Exhibition of 1867 in Melbourne had been such a great stimulus that the NSW government bought many of the exhibits to place in the brand new Technological, Industrial and Sanitary Museum (later the Powerhouse Museum of Applied Arts and Sciences). Industrial development was a hot topic.

Furthermore the Sydney International Exhibition of 1879 would be the first World Exhibition in the southern hemisphere, far from the cultural and commercial centres of Europe. So there may have been a bit of national showing off involved.

In 1879, architect James Barnet was put in charge of the Sydney International Exhibition building. It was to be in the grounds of the Royal Botanic Gardens because the harbour frontage was so attractive, but in the end it occupied land that was just outside the Gardens.

The Colonial Architect’s Office completed this huge task in nine months, including preparing the drawings, management of the project accounts and payments, and supervision of the building. The Exhibition Building used the first electric light in Sydney, imported from Britain, to get through the project with around-the-clock shifts. To show you how early in electricity’s history this was, it would be another 25 years before a Lady Mayoress turned on the switch to illuminate Sydney streets, using power from Pyrmont Power Station 1904.

Sydney’s Exhibition Building was similar in design to Crystal Palace in London and similar also to the Royal Exhibition Building in Melbourne.  And it was set in gorgeous garden settings, like these two other cities, thus inspiring the NSW Premier Sir Henry Parkes to call it the Garden Palace.

Garden Palace, exterior

The Italianate building consisted of 3 double storey, turreted wings meeting beneath a central dome which dominated Sydney's harbour skyline. Sydney's first hydraulic lift was contained in the north tower. Directly under its 64m high central dome was a fountain, and a huge statue of Queen Victoria. Inside there were excellent facilities including restaurants, an oyster bar and tea rooms. There was only one structural problem - there had been no time to use permanent and fire-retardant materials. Aside from the brick used in the foundations and the entrance towers, the majority of this vastly enormous building was wood and corrugated iron.
*
Garden Palace had an impressive opening ceremony, in Sep 1879. Paolo Giorza (1832-1914) from Milano moved to Australia in late 1871. Politician Sir Patrick Jennings, a passionate music-lover, chose Giorza as director of music for the exhibition. Giorza was commissioned to compose the grand celebratory opening cantata which was scored for a large chorus and children's choir, soloists and a full orchestra. During the exhibition, Giorza also provided daily concerts, some of them grand orchestral and choral occasions, with Handel's oratorios prominent as well as band and chamber music and piano recitals.

Spectacular pieces from the Sèvres porcelain factory, established in 1738 at Chateau de Vincennes, were among the many decorative art items sent by France for the 1879 Exhibition, to demonstrate France’s rich cultural heritage. One label said: “this vase was a gift from the French commissioner which acknowledged "proof of the lively and sincere sympathy of my Government for your flourishing colony but above all a token of the full appreciation my countrymen have of the energy and freedom of the inhabitants of Australia, freedom extended to all, whatever may be their origin."

Garden Palace Interior, display courts

By the time the Sydney Exhibition closed in April 1880, a million visitors had paid to go through the turnstiles. Architect James Barnet might have been criticised in Parliament because the project greatly overran its budget and the Exhibition lost money. Yet the exhibition was judged a determining landmark in the history of the NSW Colony, marking that state's sense of achievement, progress and aspirations on the world stage.

Some collections, put together for the 1879 Exhibition, lasted. The paintings in the fine arts display, for example, became the nucleus of the government’s art collection. The first purpose-built art gallery building was opened in 1884, only 5 years later.

According to Scratching Sydney's Surface, the Garden Palace was originally intended as a temporary structure, but as it had proved such a success, the authorities decided to keep it.  So when the timber Palace was completely engulfed by fire in Sep 1882 and destroyed, it was a total disaster. The newspapers suggested three possible reasons for the blaze. One theory was that wealthy Macquarie St residents, upset their harbour views had been stolen by the giant building, lit the blaze. Another was that it was burnt to destroy the 1881 census. Stored in the Garden Palace, the records apparently exposed embarrassing secrets about the convict origins of many leading families. Or possibly the fire was just an accident.

Garden Palace gates.

What remains of the Garden Palace today? Nothing, really. Even the beautifully carved sandstone gateposts and wrought iron gates, located on the Macquarie Street entrance to the Royal Botanical Gardens, were built as an entrance to the new gardens in 1888.  And the one artefact from the 1879 Exhibition that did survive the fire - a carved graphite statue of an elephant, from Ceylon - is displayed elsewhere (at the Powerhouse Museum). A 1940s-era sunken garden, and fountain featuring a statue of Cupid, merely mark the location of the Palace's once impressive dome.

Herzl Museum Jerusalem: new museology

Born in Budapest, Theodore Herzl (1860-1904) identified with the Germanic world of Vienna and its culture. Yet working in government service was problematic for a Jew, even a very educated, secular Jew. So Herzl decided on journalism and moved, in the first instance, to France.

In 1895 the young journalist was assigned to report on the ceremony that publicly stripped French Captain Alfred Dreyfus of his military rank for espionage. The Dreyfus Affair ended Herzl’s dream that any educated, cultivated citizen could partake of the benefits of a cultured nation.

 

Theodore Herzl, late 1890s

As an enthusiastic product of the Enlightenment, Herzl had been deeply shocked by the Dreyfus affair. He had to confront the fact that rampant European anti-Semitism endangered the secular Jew no less than the religious Jew.

Soon after the Dreyfus trial, Herzl wrote his definitive work: Judenstadt 1896. He had quickly became convinced that the only solution to anti-Semitism was the establishment of a Jewish state.

Jewish leaders were sceptical, especially given Herzl's complete rejection of Jewish religious values. Nevertheless in 1897 Herzl organised the First Zionist Congress in Basel Switzerland. Herzl's keen organisational skills brought together Jews from 16 countries, to debate the creation of a Jewish State. Naturally the biggest delegations came from Eastern Europe which was where most Jews lived.

Herzl's grave on Mt Herzl, Jerusalem

Saving the Jewish people might have come as a bolt out of the blue for Herzl, but once he was inspired, he seemed to work tirelessly for his cause until his death in 1904. He visited every politician and decision-maker across Europe and the Middle East, looking for someone to approve his charter for a Jewish State. His project didn’t succeed and worse still, he managed to exhaust his family's fortune in the effort. But Herzl was, above all, dedicated.

Forty four years after Herzl died and three years after the last gas chambers were closed in central and eastern Europe, the State of Israel was declared in 1948. As you would expect from a new nation, streets, currency and institutions were named after its own national heroes. Yet when the Herzl Museum on Mt Herzl in Jerusalem was initially opened in 1960, the hordes of expected visitors did not arrive. And those who did arrive found the presentation of the material too old fashioned. Eventually the museum closed.

Herzl Museum, re-opened 2005

Herzl wasn't forgotten, of course. Mt Herzl continued to grow as a military cemetery, burial site of many great Israeli leaders including Yitzhak Rabin and Golda Meir. Herzl's tomb was at the very centre of visitors’ attraction.

In the new century, The Herzl Museum has been modernised (in museology) and rebuilt, still located inside the entrance to Mt Herzl Jerusalem. This museum, which reopened in 2005, included a replica of Herzl's study and library.

But now the Herzl Museum has created a multi-media presentation that will help students (and adults) immerse themselves in late 19th century Europe. An hour-long video creatively portrays Herzl’s motivations and visions, in Hebrew, Russian (the second most common language in Israel), English and three other languages.

1897 Congress in Basel (Room 2)

The museum is divided into four rooms where modern visitors literally sit alongside 1890s Europeans.
*Room One is 19th century Europe, recreating the anti-Semitism of the streets of large cities and small towns. Visitors watch distressing glimpses of the Dreyfus Affair and the trial’s impact on Herzl the journalist, writer and Jew.
*Room Two is a stylish reenactment of the Zionist Congresses held in Basel and a recreation of Herzl’s activities throughout the decade.
*Room Three is a replica of Herzl’s study, in the last years of his eventful life and of Herzl’s writing for a future Jewish state.
*Room Four is an imagined comparison between Herzl’s dream for a state as expressed in his writings, and the reality of the modern state.

Herzl's library (Room 3)

The Herzl Museum is trying to bridge 19th century Europe with the future of the Jewish state, especially for people not even born when the state was created in 1948. I have been trying to discover if this method of museum experience helps the modern viewer get into the mind and times of Herzl, but almost no reviews of the museum have been helpful in this regard. Only Finding Felafel said the Theodore Herzl Museum is a multimedia experience that puts visitors in Herzl's place in late 1800s Vienna... it is where we can feel the anti-Semitism that he once did. We can trace his steps in establishing the World Zionist Congress that led to the State of Israel 50 years later.

The 1930s: a tragic, hopeful decade

In the past I have not been particularly fascinated by history of the mid C20th and thought I would not enjoy the book The Thirties: an Intimate History by Juliet Gardiner (Harper Press, 2010).

The book, published 2010

But the topic was riveting. This was a history of workers and families. It was also, as Francis Beckett noted, the story of kings and prime ministers, industrial moguls and trade union leaders. Talking of the Great and the Good was relevant only insofar as they changed the way the people lived.

Juliet Gardiner explained her own method of historical analysis. She used interviews, diaries, letters and privately published memoirs, deposited in local archives. She wanted to explore how people did their shopping, decorated their homes, understood modernism, constructed their sexuality, suffered at the hands of authorities, roamed abroad for employment opportunities, embraced anti-Semitism, took their first paid holidays, were very attracted to fresh air, lidos, rambling and improved rights for women.

Misery did not arrive, suddenly, with the Depression. The 20s were not a uninterrupted time of cocktail parties, charleston dances, glorious cruise ships and diamond-encrusted cigarette holders for everyone.

David Lloyd George's government did introduce a programme of social reform in the 1920s. The Education Act raised the school leaving age to 14. The Housing and Town Planning Act provided subsides for house building by local authorities and some 170,000 homes were built under this Act. The Unemployment Insurance Act extended national insurance to 11 million additional workers. But the soldiers who had expected to find a land fit for heroes, after 1919, came home to unemployment, strikes and substantial cuts to public expenditure.

Now the Depression. In 1931 the collapse of Austria’s Credit-Anstalt had plunged the banking system and therefore the economy into chaos; in Britain, the May Committee had foreseen a tragic budget deficit of £120 million and recommended painful spending cuts. I don’t suppose people were having a good time anywhere. In the depths of the Great Depression, unemployment was high and men could not look after their families. Lining up in front of soup kitchens or applying for Sustenance must have been utterly humiliating. Banks, businessmen and politicians didn’t seem to be able to suggest a way out of personal, national or global depression, as Dominic Sandbrook pointed out.

wretched unemployment, early 1930s

In Britain, if ordinary families thought that the Labour Party would look after their interests, they were to be sadly disappointed. The most intellectual and idealistic of the Labour members moved over to the Communist Party but nothing came of it. I wonder if it is true that the Labour leadership opposed hunger marches because they had been organised by Communists. Certainly well-meaning men and women couldn’t agree on goals or strategies, and could hardly agree on international role models.

My own family in Australia became more and more politically active, including getting involved in the Spanish Civil War. But in the end, they too were disillusioned.

Mosley, Fascist parade, London 1936

The book refers to a Britain in which the King played a central part in affairs of state and members of Parliament had a powerful sense of national duty. I presume the same could be said for Australia and New Zealand. So it does not surprise the reader that the Thirties was also the decade of the car, Californian bungalows, suburban picture theatres, public swimming pools, dance halls where young men and women could meet their future spouses, Art Deco and family holidays near the beach. The greatest advance of all, most likely, was having toilets brought into homes, rather than remaining as out-houses. This bizarre decade was an age of self-conscious modernity, too early for affluence but heading in that direction.

The difference was that Britain was a nation very deeply divided by class and region, and yet united by a moral consensus that has long since evaporated. Australia and New Zealand might not have been quite as united by a moral consensus, but then we weren’t as divided by class and region either. Another thing that occurs to me. We may have had anti-Semitism and anti-foreigner sentiment here in the Antipodes, but I don't think Australia and New Zealand had large, organised Fascist parties as Britain did.

1930s Deco cinema, Plymouth

There are some British elements that I, as an Australian, cannot know from personal experience or from my parents’ stories. Lara Feigel discusses how, after Edward VIII's abdication, George VI was very reluctant to take the throne. The 1936 Crystal Palace fire apparently represented a loss of connection with the glorious days of Victoria and Albert, and a move towards world conflagration. Woolworths, reportedly a hopeful emblem of democracy, opened dozens of new shops in 1937 alone. [Why Woolworths represented democracy in the 1930s is not clear to me in 2010].

Family holiday, Weston Super Mare, 1930s

So the 1930s was a more tricky decade than I imagined. Even after the worst of the Great Depression was over, the poor and unemployed often remained poor and unemployed. The rest of us, meanwhile, got on with annual holidays at the beach, Saturday night at the pictures and a second-hand family car. And the very wealthy planned trips on the truly magnificent Queen Mary liner that was launched in 1936. Only academics and intellectuals were writing about a new and better world for the future.

Darwin: the man and the city

We know the Dutch were already visiting Australia early in the 17th century. Willem Janszoon and his crew on the Duyfken, for example, charted 300 km of the west coast of Cape York Peninsula in 1606. And so we might expect Australia's northern coastline to have Dutch names. Certainly they created the first European maps of the area and probably they gave Arnhem Land and Groote Island their Dutch names. But for this post I am more interested in visitors to our shores in the 19th century. 

On board the Beagle 1831-36, Darwin (above) and Stokes (below)

Let me leap ahead to the very young Charles Darwin (1809–1882) who was an English naturalist.  HMS Beagle was leaving for an around-the-world trip in 1831 as part of a very extensive project of exploration and surveying. The ship's captain made inquiries among professors at British universities, and a former professor of Darwin’s proposed the young man for the position of resident scientist aboard the Beagle.

The Beagle trip took 5 long years, along the coast of South America, islands in the Pacific, Australia, Madagascar and South Africa. Early in 1836 Charles Darwin and the rest of the crew spent two months in Australia as part of the round-the-world voyage. During this time, Darwin visited Sydney, travelled on horseback to Bathurst, visited Hobart and called into King George Sound. He also met a number of the colonies’ leading citizens.

The book Charles Darwin in Australia by FW & JM Nicholas gives the definitive modern account of the Beagle’s voyage. It is based on the Australian section of Darwin’s diary, supplemented by extracts from field notes, letters and published material.

Darwin returned to Britain later in 1836. His own book from the trip, published as his Journal and Remarks 1839, described his scientific observations. They formed the basis from which he gradually developed his Theory of Evolution by Natural Selection. Mind you, his book On the Origin of Species didn’t appear until 1859.

The Beagle set off again in 1837 to survey large parts of the coast of Australia, this time without Charles Darwin aboard. The assistant surveyor for this second trip was Lieut. John Lort Stokes (1812-85), a man who had been a Midshipman on the ship’s first survey voyage. 

The first British naval man to see Darwin harbour was the very same Lieutenant John Lort Stokes of HMS Beagle in 1839. In Discoveries in Australia, Volume 2, Stokes wrote of the moment in enormous detail. “Before the veil of darkness was quite removed, we could faintly distinguish the mouth of the opening; and the sight at daylight was most cheering. A white bay appearing between two white cliffy heads and stretching away to a great distance, presented itself to our view. Far to the southward, between the heads, rose a small table-topped hill”.

The ship's captain John Wickham agreed to name the port after Charles Darwin, the naturalist who had sailed with both the captain and Stokes on the earlier expeditions of the Beagle.

Darwin harbour

Did Stokes know that Charles Darwin would eventually become one of the most famous men on earth? Of course not. But Stokes did write in his log that it was a great opportunity to honour an old shipmate and friend.

The Beagle finally went home to Britain in 1843, having completed her tasks of surveying and naming about half of the Australian coastline. On this final trip, the officers and crew had been away for six long years.

The Northern Territory was initially settled and administered by South Australia. In February 1869 George Goyder, Surveyor-General of South Australia, established a small settlement of 135 people at Port Darwin. Goyder named the settlement Palmerston, after the British Prime Minister Lord Palmerston. It is not clear whether Goyder knew the name Stokes had given the place, way back in 1839. Perhaps he assumed that the name just related to the harbour, not to the new settlement?

In 1870, the first poles for the Overland Telegraph were erected in Darwin, connecting Australia to the rest of Australia and to other countries. The discovery of gold at Pine Creek in the 1880s further boosted the young colony's development. But until its transfer to the Commonwealth in 1911, the northern most city remained Palmerston. Only in 1911 did Darwin became the city's official name.

Dictionary of World Place Names Derived from British Names by Adrian Room tells us that Charles Darwin didn’t travel far enough in Australia to see Darwin town. He died, an elderly man, in 1882. But that very same year his son Leonard Darwin, still in the army, led an expedition for the Royal Geographical Society to observe the Transit of Venus. The group spent some time in Palmerston!

The Art Gallery of New South Wales is hosting a conference called Charles Darwin and The Art of Evolution (9th Sep 2010). It will explore the impact of Darwin’s theories upon art and other visual cultures and the ways they, in turn, illuminate intriguing dimensions of his theories. The conference will begin by exploring Charles Darwin’s ventures in Australia through art, his contact with indigenous peoples and his collection of 92 Australian species.

Modern Darwin's central business district

Dead Man's Penny: memorialising young lads in WW1

In talking about the Great War (1914-18) last term, a student brought a commemorative plaque that her grandmother had received in 1919. Grandma had sent 3 sons to the European battlefields, two of whom were killed by enemy fire and one who returned to Australia minus legs. Here are the documents the student shared, accompanying the commemorative plaque.

We moderns can clearly understanding how devastated the parents and widows felt when they received a pink telegram during WW1, formally notifying the family of the death of their beloved son or husband. The example given in the Australian War Memorial page says rather abruptly: "Officially reported that Number (Br 29) (3003 Pte RB Allen) 13th Battalion previously reported missing now killed in action 14th August 1916. Please inform Mother (Mrs H Allen of Manly) and convey deep regret and sympathy of their Majesties the King and Queen and the Commonwealth Government in loss that she and Army have sustained by death soldier reply paid". Signed Col Luscombe.

Surely something more was needed. The Secretary of State for War, David Lloyd George, set up a committee in 1916 to consider a personal memorial to be distributed to the relatives of soldiers and sailors who fall in the war. By Nov 1916, The Times had already printed an article describing a Memento for the Fallen. State Gift for Relatives.

commemorative plaque, front side

In Aug 1917, the British government offered prizes for a competition to design a suitable small memorial plaque. The area of the ideal plaque was stipulated; it had to be a circle and it had to have space for the person's name. The medal also had to carry the inscription 'HE DIED FOR FREEDOM AND HONOUR'. 800 entries were received from all over the Britain and the Empire, from the Western Front, the Balkan and Middle East theatres of war.

The Times announced the winner in March 1918: Mr Edward Carter Preston of the Sandon Studios Society, Liverpool. Edward Carter Preston's initials are embossed just above the lion's right forepaw. You can see an image of Britannia and a lion, two dolphins representing Britain's sea power and the emblem of Imperial Germany's eagle being torn to pieces by another lion. Britannia was holding an oak spray with leaves and acorns. Beneath this was a rectangular tablet where the soldier's name was cast into the plaque. No rank was to be inscribed; it was specifically intended to show equality in their sacrifice.

Production of the plaques commenced during December 1918, and was originally at a disused laundry in Acton, London. Later the Acton factory closed and production was transferred to the Woolwich Arsenal. Other former munitions factories were also used for production. I wonder if the grieving parents who received the plaque for their dead son(s) cared that the factories were once armament manufacturers.

There was no way of knowing how many lads would die by the time the war ended. The original estimate had been for 800,000 plaques, but nearly double that were eventually produced.

tribute from King George V

This bronze plaque was sent to the next of kin of every British Empire citizen who lost his life as a result of Great War service (defined as being from Aug 1914 until April 1920). The plaques measured 121mm and were very heavy (333gms); they were referred to by the soldiers themselves as the 'Dead Man's Penny'. They were posted to the family, protected by a stout brown cardboard folder.

Two documents accompanied the plaque. The first was a brief letter-tribute from King George V. The second was a parchment scroll, headed by the Royal Coat of Arms. The scroll had one passage written in old English script: 'He whom this scroll commemorates was numbered among those who, at the call of King and Country, left all that was dear to them, endured hardness, faced anger, and generally passed out of sight of men by the path of duty and sacrifice, giving up their own lives that others may live in freedom. Let those who come after see to it that his name be not forgotten.' The man’s name and unit was inscribed on the bottom.

It was hoped that the parents of each dead soldier could derive some comfort from prominently displaying the plaque next to a photo of their son and his medals; a small domestic shrine in their lounge room. The accompanying letter-tribute from King George V and the parchment scroll could be framed up and placed on the shrine as well.

parchment scroll

One question has not been answered. Great War Forum suggested that "Deadman's Penny" was a slightly derogatory colloquialism used by the soldiers themselves for the bronze commemorative plaque, a payment for a death for the next of kin. And the Western Front Association noted there were some relatives who returned the pennies to the Australian Government in protest, as they felt it was insulting and it did not replace their loved one's life. Is there any way of us knowing, in 2010, how the generation of grieving parents felt about the commemorative plaque in 1920?

The Divine Sarah Bernhardt in Australia, 1891: sex, theatre, sun

I was already familiar with Sarah Bernhardt’s (1844–1923) image via young Czech artist Alphonse Mucha (1860-1939). After moving to Paris, Mucha created an Art Nouveau poster in 1884 to advertise Bernhardt's role of Gismonda at Paris' Theatre de la Renaissance. This poster broke new ground in the art poster world, and within a week of printing, Mucha became a very well known artist in Paris. Sarah Bernhardt loved the poster, and signed Mucha to a 6-year contract. During that time, Mucha designed other posters for her and became very close to the theatrical legend.

Bernhardt was also a keen fan of photography,  using the most modern 19th century technologies available to get her image out to the public.

Bernhardt as Gismonda, created by Mucha in 1884, Paris

By the time the Divine Sarah Bernhardt arrived in Australia in 1891, she was the most famous actress in the world. The Pall Mall Gazette in July 1891 noted that the 46-year-old star’s arrival in Sydney emptied State Parliament and caused wild scenes at Redfern station where she was received with extraordinary honours. The Mayor left his duties to meet her and took her to an official reception. The harbour was decorated as if for a regatta, and the town was illuminated at night.
*
Everyone cashed in on her trip to Australia. The fabulous Australia Hotel, whose foundation stone had been laid by the state premier Sir Henry Parkes just two years earlier, asked Sarah Bernhardt to perform the grand opening. Her name was first in the new hotel register, later displayed in a glass showcase in the main foyer.

Hotel Australia, 1891, opened by Bernhardt

Impresario George Tallis was closely associated with the JC Williamson firm for 50+ years. While concentrating on the business side, Tallis learned every aspect of theatrical management, from choosing costumes to handling international stars. Enticing Bernhardt to do a tour of Australia in 1891, Tallis said, marked the high point in his early career and led to his later fame and knighthood.

The newspapers were agog. Melbourne Argus in Sep 1890 told readers that JC Williamson has concluded an agreement with Mme Sarah Bernhardt and company, who would visit Australia for a theatrical season of 10 weeks. She would first appear in Melbourne in June 1892. The plays to be produced would include M. Sardou's drama Cleopatra. In July 1891 The Argus wrote  "Madame Sarah Bernhardt opened the Sydney season to night at Her Majesty s Theatre in Camille. The house was crowded by a brilliant audience, who, though somewhat impassive during the first act of the play, were gradually warmed to genuine enthusiasm, and rewarded the magnificent performance of the great actress by thunders of applause. Tomorrow La Tosca will be produced".

Photo of Bernhard, taken during her Australian trip, 1891 (State Library Vic)

During the Sydney leg of her tour, Bernhardt performed in Camille, La Tosca, Fedora, Jeanne D’Arc and Cleopatra. Her performances at Her Majesty's were in French, so Sydney audiences were provided with English translations via booklets. They followed the play using these booklets. This meant that the house lights were not lowered during the performances. Despite the language difference, Sydney theatregoers rapturously received Sarah Bernhardt. As in France, her costumes were sublime.

At the very same time, Australia needed help to end the appalling rabbit plague and Professor Louis Pasteur sent his brilliant nephew Dr Adrien Loir (1862-1941), a handsome young scientist, to represent the family business – the Pasteur Institute. Apparently Dr Loir needed a translator since he didn’t speak English well, so Bernhardt offered her services (sic)! Bernhardt, aged 47, was already a legendary lover with a particular interest in much younger men. She took one look at young Dr Loir and instead of going on to fulfil her contractual obligations in Brisbane, the couple had a passionate romp for a week on the tiny Rodd Island in Sydney Harbour.

In time, the lovely Bernhardt returned to France alone, but clearly island life had started to appeal to her. She bought a Napoleonic fort on the lovely Belle Isle off the Brittany coast where she spent holidays for the rest of her life. When the star died in 1923, half a million citizens lined the streets of Paris to bid farewell to France's most beloved heroine.

Read Sarah: The Life of Sarah Bernhardt, written by Robert Gottlieb (Yale UP, 2010). And read EdwardianPromenade for some of the gossip that surrounded her early adult life.

It is just as well she did her romping in Australia. At 70 she injured her leg when performing Victorien Sardou’s play Tosca, in which she was the heroine who finally hurls herself off a castle wall to kill herself in despair. She tried wearing a cast but that failed;  the Divine Sarah then decided she would be better off without the leg altogether. She wrote to one of her lovers, the surgeon Samuel Pozzi, telling him to cut it off above the knee. Even then, wooden legs failed her, so she was carried around on a sedan chair for the rest of her life, including on stage and on tour.