The Ratbag Encyclopedia

Family history, Western Australian history, or just history

Category: Places

This is all about locations visited, photographed, mapped, written about.

Central Perth in cardboard
A guide to the diorama of central Perth before 1880 on display in the Museum of Perth

This was the administrative heart of the colonial settlement. Some of the oldest surviving structures in the city are located on this diorama which you might recognise today.
- The black shapes represent other buildings remaining to be added to this representation of pre-gold rush era Perth.
1. Perth Town Hall

Started 1867, opened 1870, and still here today!

A civic centre for the capital of Western Australia was merely an afterthought by Governor Hampton after he had spent most of the imperial funds vested in him to develop the colony, instead blown most of it to finish a flashy new home for himself. A new Town Hall was his farewell gift to his subjects. The citizens of Perth would have no say in any of the design and construction process, all that was required of them was to be obsequiously grateful that they were granted his magnanimous condescension at all.

The foundation stone was laid near the corner of Barrack Street and Howick Street (Now an extension of Hay Street) in the year 1867. Only after the handover to the Perth City Council in 1870 were all the aspects of the ornate design that were not properly thought through, laid bare.

The most potentially lethal flaw was the single wooden staircase that was the only way up and out of the great hall above the arches of the undercroft. If a fire had ever broken out, hundreds would have been crushed in the stampede to escape. If the fire came from the stairwell every single person in the upper storey would have died. Such a catastrophe arround that time and place might even have ended the colonial experiment right then.

Governor Robinson, Hampton’s successor, pointed this out after attending one of the first functions held in the hall after it was opened. So, amongst the first modifications to to the original design were the addition of further stairwells located in the otherwise ornamental turrets at the corners of the hall.

Soon after that it was realised that no public lavatories at all had been provided for use in this new centre of the town’s life.

2. The Legislative Council building.

Started 1867, opened 1870, demolished 1968

If the Town Hall itself was an afterthought by a former ruler of the colony, this small hall attached to it was a last minute addition to the plan to house the “gift” of incoming Governor Robinson’s grant of limited representational government. The new Legislative Council chamber was ready for use when the first few elected members took their seats to find they had no ability to influence events. The Governor retained, by and large, the option to rule as an autocrat, whether he chose to exercise that power or not.

It was not until 1890 when responsible government was granted (and the dictatorial powers of a premier supplanted those of a governor), that the Legislative Council moved down the road into the old 1837 Government office building on St George’s Terrace while the new second chamber of the Legislative Assembly replaced them in to the Howick Street chamber. After the two branches of the legislature were reunited up on Harvest Terrace after 1904, the redundant chamber was sometimes repurposed as a government bank, but was finally demolished in 1968, only two years shy of the centenary of its construction.

3. St George’s church.

Started 1841, completed 1845, demolished c. 1890s

When what became St Georges Terrace was first surveyed out in 1829, it was listed on the map as King George Street. Then King George IV dropped dead a year later, and there was no reason left to pretend anyone had liked him. The words “King” and “Street” were discreetly erased and substituted by “Saint” and “Terrace” instead. When the adherents of the Church of England finally got sick of time sharing their existing place of worship with local court cases and school classes, the proposed St George’s Church was named after the street it overlooked, rather than the patron saint of ye olde England.

After three years of fund raising, the ruling class of Perth had raised just enough for a foundation stone to be laid in 1841. But by then the alternative Wesleyan Methodist sect had long ago opened their first chapel in town and laid the foundation stone for a second later that same year. It was possibly not now the best of times for the Colonial Chaplain Wittenoom to have a brain-snap and denounce his co-religionists as schismatics and dissenters.

Not only had many prominent Wesleyans donated to the Anglican church building fund (just as many Anglicans had contributed to the first Methodist shed), they also counted a disproportionately high proportion of the town’s sawyers and carpenters within their comparatively tiny congregation. Maybe it was not that that much of a coincidence that the church builders’ budget flew out the windows they could no longer afford to build when all the sawyers of the town colluded to suddenly raise their prices.

The barn-like St George’s Church was eventually completed in 1845. It took another three years for the bishop of the local diocese to make it over west from Adelaide to actually consecrate the place for worship.

Perth was next informed during 1856 that their very small town was henceforth a cathedral city. Part of that newfound status involved rebranding the church as Cathedral. A rectangular extension was tacked on to the north end of the structure a few years later to form its final, awkwardly proportioned, T-shape profile.

The writing was on the wall metaphorically if not literally for the old St George’s Cathedral from the late 1870’s onwards when work on a replacement began immediately to it’s east. After a decade of construction work, the two structures existed side by side for a short time until the old church was torn down during the early 1890’s

4. The Freemason’s Hall.

Built c. 1866, demolished 1970s.

After their first club house was erected on Howick Street in about 1866, the lodge members of the Freemasons no longer had to fraternise in public houses along side to common hoi poli in such locations, as say — “The Freemason’s Arms”? Their club house was later extended, but this is the earliest iteration. The lodge members moved to a different location entirely during the 1890s, so their old hall was reused by various government departments, the R&I bank, and finally the Public Trustee Office before it was knocked down in the 1970s.

5. Swan Mechanics Institute.

Built 1853, demolished 1897.

The oldest part of this structure, located on the corner of Howick and Pier Street, was constructed in 1853 — The 1851 sign on the frontage denoted the year the society that operated out of this building was formed. Further wings were constructed westwards until room on the block ran out, by then it consisted of hall space, meeting rooms, a lending library and a display of curiosities that was the origin of the WA museum’s collection. This was also where the council for the City of Perth held their meetings before the construction of the Town Hall. It was one of the few spaces outside a liquor vending establishment or a private home where a quiet meeting could take place on somewhere other than government property.

Re-branded as the Perth Literary Institute, the original buildings were entirely replaced in 1897 to make way for a far grander structure that also failed to survive until the 21st century.

6. Government School.

Built 1854, demolished after 1930.

This was erected about the same time, or only a couple of years after, the Old Boy’s School was built away down on St Georges Terrace in 1854. This was the classroom for the girls. Somewhat less money and effort was spent on this school building, although the ventilation was certainly better that the earlier effort. At some indeterminate date it stopped being used as a school and was occupied by a government department related to the land and surveys office. The government lithographic office reproduced maps, plans and other printed documents as needed. After a government print works was finally set up across town, the site was leased or sold for the strangest change of use yet. Before it was torn down sometime after 1930, this was the disreputable location of Perth’s public bath house.

7. The Deanery.

Built 1859, still standing!

Formerly on this site stood the original Perth lock-up. It was not for long-term prisoners — they were sent to the Round House in Fremantle. However, in a moment of official panic, the first quasi-judicial execution in the colony took place on this spot.

When the lock-up was moved down to the waterfront into the newly built Water Police Complex, and the Army moved away from the original barracks next door, this site of evil memory was marked for a touch of 19th century gentrification. On this spot, a genteel residence for the churchman who was to look after the newly upgraded Cathedral was constructed, complete with gardens and trellises hung with grapes surrounded by a picket fence.

8. Officer’s Barracks.

Erected early 1830’s, demolished 1917.

There were two barrack buildings that made up the British Army establishment that gave nearby Barrack Street it’s name. One was for the regular soldiers, the other housed their commanding officers. They were both completed very early in the Swan River Colony’s history, with the Officer’s barracks at least, in use by 1834.

Both barracks were roughly of a similar layout and covered about the same surface area. Obviously there would be considerably more comfort for one group than the other as there were many more regular soldiers (with their wives and children) than there were of the men who commanded them to fit into one of those spaces. Obviously enough, the officers of the Swan River Colony were always going to get the better deal of it.

However, when Governor Sir James Stirling returned to his capital in 1834 after a two year absence, he compared the rude shack he would otherwise be returning to, with the solid Officer’s barracks constructed by architect Henry Revelley during his absence. Quite where his officers had to bivouac while the Governor appropriated their gaff until his new house was completed, is not spelt out in the records. RHIP – Rank Has It’s Privileges.

After the British army were replaced by pensioner-soldiers during the convict era, the fine officer’s barracks structure was repurposed as a police station. After a local Worthy’s son died on a distant battlefield during 1917, his grieving father decided to salve his loss by having what should be the earliest surviving colonial landmark in the city replaced by a murky grey red brick hall.

9. Soldier’s Barracks

Erected early 1930’s, demolished late 1880’s

No architectural plans or photographs exist of the totality of the structure where the regular rank and file were housed in Perth before the early 1850s. Only a pencil sketch dating to 1841 and some other distant depictions of the barracks within the town from across the water on Mt Eliza suggest that its initial layout was very close to that for the officers. What is clear is that the soldier’s barracks were both expanded and remodelled over the years as, up to the time it became the nucleus for the latest expansion of government offices during the 1880s. For at least two decades before that date, the former military establishment was entirely obscured from the view of the street by densely planted trees. Only a field canon pointed across the road towards Stirling Square provided any clue as to what lay behind foliage.

A ground plan of the complex does survive from the early 1860s. It does show the expansion of the original form to cover all the ground on the site. What these extensions looked like remain mostly in the realm of educated guesses. One of the more researchable of the features that may or may not ever have been constructed were the fives courts. This was a handball game similar to squash played in special designed three-sided ball courts. The game is still played in certain elite British Public (i.e: private) schools.

The end of the soldier’s barracks came as the old structure was slowly surrounded by the two storey (later increased to 3) office block erected on the west side in the late 1870s. A second wing of this new office block was later built on the east side. When the two wings were connected, the last traces of the old barracks vanished underneath the new colonial General Post Office. Today this new structure is better known as the Old Treasury Buildings.

10. The Guard House.

Built c. 1855, demolished c. 1910s

Also known as the Pump House, and later modified to include a court room for the Police magistrate to do his work, the Guard House was erected about the same time as the pensioner barracks on the west end of the ‘Terrace and in a similar corporate style. Neither were part of the original British army complex that gave Barrack Street its name.

It’s possible the pumping house part of this building’s design was one of the reasons the decision was taken to house Perth’s first fire fighting appliance in the understory of the Town Hall immediately next door from 1878 — but this is just idle speculation.

At some date during the early 20th century the Guard House was replaced by a nondescript two storey structure that did service as the Government Tourist Bureau, until it was in turn replaced by an anonymous concrete box (also since demolished). An anonymous glass box now occupies the site. It does, however, contain a court house once again.

11. Commissariat Stores

Built 1837, demolished by 1902

The British army’s supply depot or Commissariat was was once all that stood between the settlers, one bad harvest, and starvation. It was built close to the water front, near the Barrack Street jetty, for easy transit of stores. After this three storey warehouse was no longer required for its original purpose after the last British regiments were removed from the colony, it saw out the remainder of its lifetime as the Supreme Court building for the colony.

By the end of the 19th Century the former Commissariat Stores lay marooned far inland from the reclaimed shore line. It was then replaced by the vast new Supreme court complex still on the site.

12. The Old Courthouse

Built 1837. The oldest surviving European structure in Perth city.

It was built to be used as a public hall, court house, school room, and Anglican place of worship. While there is marginally more space within than appears from without, The Old Courthouse is known as the Old Courthouse because that was the last original purpose it was still used for. Today it is a law museum.

Look at the strange alignment of the Old Court House on the diorama. The model has not been bumped out of place by accident. The foundations for this building must have gone down in 1835 before the re-alignment of the street plan for the town was completed by the survey department.

13. Water Police Barracks/Lock Up.

Built c 1850, demolished by 1902.

Beneath the limestone cliff underneath the Old Court House was a long complex of buildings the made up the residence of the Water Police. From it’s erection soon after the dawn of the convict era in 1850 to it’s demolition beneath the edifice of the 1902 Supreme Court building, for most of that time it was the centre for law enforcement duties across much of the city. The lock-up cells saw far more business that those at the Perth Gaol on the other side of town. The only holding cells specifically for women were located here. Among the other buildings about the place lay boat sheds, stables, and store rooms.

14. Government Offices

Built 1837, demolished 1861.

The city of Perth has been home to many office buildings, but this was the the first constructed by the Government as part of a suite of new architecture that included a court house, church and school room (all one building) and the commissariat store. This was where the post office, survey department, and Records office (among other functions) were going to be housed.

The structure was too small almost the moment it was completed and a wing was immediately extended out one side of the rear to form a lopsided Y shaped structure down the side of the slope towards the river front. What made the design so interesting was the way different levels evolved as the building extended. One side was a maze of walkways and stairs. It looked great, but was hell to work in. After “responsible” government arrived in 1890, the Legislative Council moved in to these old offices. The building was then reprieved for a few decades more when the recommendations of a royal commission to build a unified Parliament house on the spot was over-ridden in favour of a site on Harvest Terrace.

It was eventually flattened in 1961 in favour of the current Council House.

15. New Government House.

Built 1857, still here.

In the opinion of the Governors who ruled Western Australia during the height of the convict era, the sarcastic observer who described the old Government house built for Stirling by Revelley as resembling more a lunatic asylum that the residence of a head-of-state— was entirely on the money. Speaking of money, Governors Kennedy and Hampton both had a lot of it courtesy of the revenue from the Imperial Government for the maintenance of the Convict establishment. They could have invested those funds in roads and bridges, or removing the impediment to navigation on the Swan River. Instead they blew most of it on a grand new gaff for themselves. Kennedy started the work in 1859. Hampton arrived as construction was nearly completed, decided he didn’t like what had been done and ordered hugely expensive alterations so work was not complete until 1863. Maybe it was as a sop to his more observant critics that he “gifted” his city a new Town Hall as a present.

16. The Old Government Ballroom/Banqueting Hall.

Built by 1867, replaced 1890’s.

This was a modest appendage to the New Government House. It lay half in the Governor’s domain, and half in the Government domain- to make a distinction between the two. The public entrance to the ball room lay on the public side of the border, so the Governor need never have to tolerate undesirables turning up his driveway. The Old Ball Room was eventually replaced by a monstrously scaled New Government Ball Room. By this date in the late 19th Century, the power of the monarch’s representative in this colony, now a state, was much diminished.
December 7, 2023
Bio: Henry Nickolls

The Master of Corra Linn

On, or just before 7 December 1837, Henry Nickolls, master of the Corra Linn estate on the Patterson Plains, was punched in the head by a newly-assigned employee and warned by him that “there was more where that came from”. Which is something of an inversion of the typical master / servant relationship.

This is only one possible interpretation that the historical record allows… but it’s how I’d like to imagine the confrontation between Nickolls and convict James Dyson played out. It makes for a more lurid opening line than “Assaulting and Threatening Violence to his Master” which is as close to an accurate translation as can be gleaned from James Dyson’s surviving Convict conduct record generated for his time in Van Diemen’s Land.

Dyson was immediately sentenced by the police magistrate at Evandale to six months hard labour on the roads at the Kings’ Meadows Convict Station (where Dyson most absolutely positively wore one very stylish hat).

A generic Convict Chain Gang. Accuracy not vouched for.

But who was Henry Nickolls, about whom Dyson made a judgement call that it was better to spend the six months in a road gang than have to endure any more than three days with him as a master?

Henry Nickolls, Esq.

Was born in Little Stukely, Huntingdonshire (now part of Cambridgeshire) towards the end of the year 1793. Aged 33, he married 29 year old Charlotte Wilkins on 23 August 1826. Next month, the newly-weds sailed from London to Van Diemen’s Land on the ship Admiral Cockburn, arriving in Hobart on 14 February 1827.

Nickolls was sent out by two gentleman brothers to manage and farm on their behalf the extensive properties they had acquired in the Colony. Their names were…

JFC!

Sir John Owen (Bart) & Edward Lord

Wikipedia page for Sir John Owen (Bart)

Australian Dictionary of Biography entry for Edward Lord

These two “gentlemen” — a politician and soldier respectively, were brothers. Sir John changed his name so he could inherit a prosperous estate in Pembrokeshire with a baronetcy attached. This estate in Wales (the old one, not the New South one) was named Orielton. He also inherited a seat in parliament as part of the deal.

Edward Lord had once been a soldier of the officer class. He was kicking around Van Diemen’s Land since the time of the original British incursion. He had even been an acting-Governor briefly back in 1810 when his most notable act in office was burning all the incriminating documents from his predecessor’s reign. He was hated by his peers, but having a politician brother who was now a minor aristocrat meant they both wangled some of the choicest land grants in the Colony along with the worst of them.

The brother’s estate of Orielton in Van Diemen’s land, near the town of Sorrell, seems to have been run productively by Nickolls. Nickoll’s speciality was cattle and horse breeding. The issues that eventually arose between he and his employers might have been due to his one absentee boss needing more and more money to fund his political habit. (Owen was gobsmacked his constituents keep fielding alternate candidates against him at election time just because he didn’t represent their interests). Richard Lord on the other hand, was probably just being a ruthless arsehole.

Whether Nickolls was replaced voluntarily or otherwise as agent for Owen and Lord is not clear. However from 1 September 1831, it was Alexander Goldie now in charge at Orielton and the brother’s other interests, with the mandate to wring as much cash out of the cows for his employers as possible.

Alexander Goldie has his own Australian Biographical Dictionary entry.

Nickolls was also of the gentlemany class. While still working for Sir John Owen (Bart), he made successful application for land grants on his own account despite merely being a well-paid employee for Sir John. He was also appointed a Justice of the Peace by the Governor very soon after his arrival, which is a mark of some esteem from a soldier for someone who only obvious connection with soldiering was as sometimes-agent to someone no-one trusted.

Nickoll’s initial land grant was for 2000 acres in the Brighton district in 1828. He next applied for 2500 acres more in the Morven District near the South Esk River during 1833. “Corra Linn” is located by the North Esk in the same district, so if this is not a typographical error, and his application really was approved — the latter may be the land near the town of Longford where he finally resided.

His first attempt at free enterprise, after separating from Owen and Lord, was winning a tender to provide a mail service between Hobart Town and Launceston. — Entirely on horse back. He purchased six used saddles from the government for the purpose. But the gloomy prediction of one of the Launceston newspapers proved prescient —

We have already stated that Mr. Nichols has obtained the contract for the conveyance of the mail throughout the Island. It is taken at £990, ferries free, and commences on the 2nd June. We wish him success. Individuals who by any means benefit the community are justly entitled to their earnings, but we fear that the present most infamous state of the roads, and want of bridges, are more likely to ruin a contractor than to put money in his pocket. The present system of colonial government is altogether bad, and until the desired change takes place, but little good may be expected by the community.”
The Independent (Launceston, Tas. : 1831 – 1835) 12 May 1832 page 3

We can probably assume that Henry Nickolls lost his deposit.

He was in government service as the Commandant of Flinders Island between September 1834 and November 1835. He was not ruling another convict establishment, although none of the 134 or so inhabitants under his management were free to leave.

They were as many of the First Nations peoples in British occupied Van Diemen’s Land as could be captured alive after the genocidal war of conquest of their land. It was not identified as such in the terminology of the day, but Henry Nickolls was Commandant of one of the world’s first concentration camps. By the time this settlement was abandoned in 1847, only 47 Palawa still left alive.

He next turned down further government employment as a manager on the Launceston docks. When he also appeared to reject an official appointment at Circular Head with the VDL Company (where his nemesis Alexander Goldie was once employed), that government was through with him.

He had attempted to pressure the administration by name dropping all the worthies he was writing to back in Britain to lobby on his behalf. Being written to sternly by Lord Fitzwilliam and the Bishop of Chichester was not enough to sway the Colonial Secretary. The regretful notation on his letter of pleading reads-

I wish I could do something for Henry Nickolls but alas I cannot.

Instead, one year later (or by January 1837 at the latest), Henry Nickolls was in residence at Corra Linn.

Gateway to the Corra Linn Estate off Relbia Road in 2017

The road to Corra Linn 2017

Corra Linn / Corra Lynn

The land around the North Esk river known as Patterson Plains also was the location of government stockyards acquired by Lieutenant David Rose after he retired from the army in 1814. There is a waterfall and gorge on the North Esk river adjacent to the property that resembles (somewhat) one from his native Scotland.

Jacob More, c1771, The Falls of Clyde (Corra Linn), National Gallery of Scotland

Corra Linn in VDL. Very pretty, but not seeing the resemblance

Lt. Rose dropped dead in 1826, “hastened by a wound from a dog bite” according to his Australian Biographical Dictionary entry.

The heir to his estate seems have been Alexander Rose, a nephew. It must have been he, a decade later, who leased some of that land to Nickolls. The Rose family retained other portions of the inheritance to work themselves, so Henry Nickolls next did his bit for neighbourly relations by taking Alexander to court over a barn that he commissioned him to complete which did not live up to his gentlemanly expectations.

… At the instigation of Mr. Home, the witness, Gardiner, was asked how wide the spaces were between the logs, to which he answered that towards the ground they were not wider than to admit a man’s arm, but they encreased towards the top.
Mr. Home — Cannot pigs get in ?
Witness— Not unless they were to FLY !
“SUPREME COURT—CIVIL SIDE.” The Cornwall Chronicle (Launceston, Tas. : 1835 – 1880) 13 January 1838 page 1

The Cornwall Chronicle (Launceston, Tas. : 1835 – 1880) 25 January 1840 page 4

Henry Nickolls was out of Corra Linn by January 1840, but was still a presence in the district. Then Alexander Rose and his family departed Van Diemen’s Land for a few years and the next time Corra Linn is up for rent, a Mr Gilles of Sandhill is managing the deal.

Launceston Advertiser (Tas. : 1829 – 1846)Thu 7 May 1840 Page 1

Patterson Plains 2017

There is ‘nary a peep out of Henry Nickolls Esquire for some time until:—

Launceston Advertiser (Tas. : 1829 – 1846) 27 January 1842 page 2

There are really only two ways of interpreting the situation when the wife of a gentleman goes very suddenly into business on her own account during this era. Either she has suddenly come into some wealth that her genteel husband has no access to, OR the couple’s finances have deteriorated so badly that he had to send the missus out to work to keep cigars and cognac on the table.

Henry Nickolls, Esquire, now of the town of Longford in Norfolk Plains district, placed himself into voluntary administration for insolvency on 18 July 1842.

Under the Insolvency of Mr. Henry Nickols, of Norfolk Plains, and by order of John Atkinson, Esq., Assignee.
TO BE SOLD BY PUBLIC AUCTION,
By Mr. B. Francis,
On the premises at Norfolk Plains, on THURSDAY and FRIDAY, the 15th and 16th September, at twelve o’clock precisely,
TWELVE FRENCH BEDSTEADS,
Chintz and dimity furniture
Wool mattresses
Feather beds and bedding
Rosewood, loo, telescope, and dining
tables
Cheffioniers, sofas, couches
Sets of chairs, plate, linen
China, glass
And 150 volumes of sundry books
Fourteen capital milch cows
Thirteen steers and heifers
Six working bullocks
One Hereford bull
Two useful saddle horses
One jaunting car
Sets of harness, &c.
ALSO,
All the farming implements
A strong bullock cart
One horse cart
Ploughs, harness
Dairy utensils
And numerous other effects.
The auctioneer particularly calls the attention of gentlemen and others to the above furniture, the whole being of a very superior order, and nearly new. The cattle have been selected with care, and known to be first class.
TERMS — Under £25, cash ; above that sum,
an approved endorsed bill at 3 months.
Launceston Examiner (Tas. : 1842 – 1899), 3 September, p. 5

The Nickolls family lost their bedsteads but kept their house. Not much is heard from Henry Nickolls in the newspapers after that. He was presented to the Governor at a Levee held in Launceston during 1843. He resigned as a Justice of the Peace the same year, then tried his luck again with the Government for work, applying for a paid appointment in the Convict Department at Launceston. He also applied for a magistrates’ gig in his old stomping ground back in Sorrell in 1850.

By now, the next generation of his family were emerging into public view when his son Henry Berkeley Nickolls was appointed postmaster to Bishopsbourne, a locality east of Longford in 1849.

Henry Nickolls died at Longford 30 December 1872, aged 78.

Nickolls seems to be both the historically correct and the preferred spelling of his family name, however, every other permutation (Nickol, Nicholls, Nichols) will appear somewhere in relation to this individual or his family. Henry and Caroline did have children, a distressingly large number of then died in infancy during their years at Corra Linn.

He is not to be confused in the historical record with a Henry Nickolls, farmer of Brighton, Tasmania who died in 1885, or the convict named Henry Nickolls who arrived on the convict transport Moffatt, (but a later voyage than the one that brought James Dyson to Van Diemens’ Land!)

November 30, 2022
Locating the United Service Tavern

Wherein, I solve a mystery no-one had ever considered had been a mystery before and correct the historical record on a minor fact that — in the grand scheme of things — is completely irrelevant.

The Perth Gazette and Western Australian Journal, 22 May 1841, Page 2

This is the earliest dated confirmation in the press that the United Service Tavern in Perth was now under the proprietorship of Mr Henry Laroche Cole (1809-1866). He rebuilt the popular meeting venue, watering hole and lodging place located on land he now owned on the corner of St George’s Terrace and Barrack Street. It was a strategic location near the administrative heart of the town, and consisted of the northern half of two Perth town allotments once in the possession of the Colonial Chaplain, the Rev. John Burdett Wittenoom.

The Perth Gazette and Western Australian Journal, 28 Mar 1840
Page 2

The United Service Tavern as an institution long predated Coles’s ownership of the same, but there can be no question that Wittenoom owned or allowed to be operated a drinking establishment on his land. The Colonial Chaplain had his detractors. If they had a stick like that to beat him with, that stick would have been used.

Three months before Wittenoom’s land went up for sale, the original United Service Tavern was offered up for auction on the allotment next to his:—

The Perth Gazette and Western Australian Journal, 4 Jan 1840, p1

The Perth town Allotments once in the possession of the Wittenoom and Hodges families.

This is the earliest known image of Cole’s Corner with the United Service Tavern on it, dating to 1861. He has rebuild the structure to the left of where it once stood.

Cole’s building, the United Service Tavern and west on St Georges Terrace from Barrack Street, Perth, A. H. Stone 1861 [SLWA: 6923B/177]

Map produced by Public Works Department held by SROWA

Cole’s Tavern was extended between 1861 and the end of the nineteenth century and it’s name was changed to the United Service Hotel. It is the floorplan of the building photographed below that is depicted in the map above.

The United Service Hotel, 43 St. George’s Terrace, Perth, W.A [slwa_b1429370_43]

After 1896, the interior of the building was gutted and it’s frontage extended to the footpath. I don’t pretend to care to too much about this iteration of the establishment, but apparently the stables and out buildings behind the main structure survived and were said to date all the way back to time of the original hotel in 1835. Of course, we now know that this is impossible and that they had to have been the work of H L Cole and no earlier than the year 1840. Don’t we?

THE UNITED SERVICE HOTEL. (1896, May 8). Western Mail (Perth, WA : 1885 – 1954), p. 14

United Service Hotel, St George’s Terrace, Perth in 1972 just prior to demolition.
slwa_b3905953_1

It now looks like this. [Google maps]

July 21, 2021
Rank Hypocrisy

The story of the original United Service Hotel & Tavern

Perth Allotment L3 in the town of Perth, in the Colony of Western Australia, was originally gifted to colonial merchant and all-round important person George Leake, by virtue of him already having a lot of money. He swiftly on-sold it to a consortium consisting of a Portuguese boatman named Joseph Moore and a Mrs Hodges. Moore had the money — Mrs Mary Anne Hodges had the advantage of not being a filthy foreigner and thus was permitted to be granted title over property (even if she was a woman*) in what was then very much an infant British settlement. The property was fully assigned to Mrs Hodges by the year 1832 — Year 3 of this town of Perth’s existence. By then, a dwelling house, bakery, outhouses, drains and fences had been erected on the lot and an invisible line separated the Hodges’s family property from that owned by Moore.

* I am being sarcastic. Don’t @ me.

Mrs Hodges did have other family with her in the Swan River Colony. Her daughter and son-in-law lived under the same roof as she, as was her husband. She was no widow. George Bell Hodges, and son-in-law James Dobbins were both serving in the 63^rd Regiment of Foot, part of the British Army then assigned to Western Australia. The Perth Barracks, where they would otherwise have bivouacked, was only a short walk away from Mrs Hodge’s property on the other side of St Georges Terrace and Barrack Street.

A contemporary sketch of the Perth Barracks by C. D., the younger brother of the Rev. F. B. Wittenoom, who also happened to live just across the road.

On 1 January 1833 Mrs Hodges applied for and was granted a publican’s licence on her property and what became known as the United Service Hotel came into existence.

There was a reason why it was Mrs Hodges’ name on both title deed and liquor licence instead of her husband. Serving soldiers were not supposed to be involved in trade, just as Joseph Moore could not be allowed to openly own real estate when he was not a naturalised British subject.

This prohibition on going into business, or owning land when in the army— was certainly not applicable to the officer class. This class were probably also the ones insisting the loudest that their subordinates must not allowed to to follow their example. The commanding officer of the 63^rd regiment had got a free grant of land from the Governor as soon as he stepped of the boat in 1829. Captain Frederick C. Irwin’s estate of Henley Brook in the nearby Swan Valley was one of the best in the colony. Those under his authority hated him. The wider population of the settlement got to know him too during his first brief period as acting-governor. They burned his effigy in celebration when he handed over to his successor.

Prick

At least one future historian will make the mistake of believing that because Hodges was eventually able to be the name on a title deed that he must have been an officer, and a Captain too, no less. His fellow Privates would have found the very idea hilarious, and laughed as hard as they did when Irwin (by then promoted to Major, and Commandant of all British forces in Western Australia) desired to inspect his troops in full dress uniform and regally fell off his horse on the parade ground.

So it was Mrs Hodges who had to be both the name and the presence behind the counter for the time being while her men were on other duty. She was the baker, general store proprietor, and after 1 January 1833, holder of a publican’s licence. Her as yet un-named public house on L3 would soon be known as The United Service Hotel.

Her husband was still in one of those Services (but presumably off duty) during August 1833, when, as he was serving beside her behind the counter of their general store, a labourer rolled in through the doorway inebriated as a newt and agro to boot. William Glover was there to pay a bill for some sugar. All produce in the Swan River Colony of this time was exorbitantly expensive and sugar was no exception. Glover attempted to pick a fight over the price, but Hodges refused to rise to the bait. Glover next attempted to get a rise by questioning the fighting prowess of the British soldier.

Hodges was aged in his early to mid-forties. His record was good and he would have known that if he did not attract any negative attention to himself, he would soon be eligible for a honourable discharge after so many years of service. His son-in-law, Dobbins (half his age) had no such concerns. Suddenly Private James Dobbins was standing before Glover with a hand on his shoulder prepared to throw him out the store.

Unfortunately, slouching in the doorway, and immediately outside, were some of William Glovers’ own comrades. Dobbins went down under a pile of bodies. A female voice (whether belonging to Mrs Hodges or Dobbins is not recorded) raised the traditional call of hue and cry to summon the assistance of the town constable. That call was “Murder!”

“Corporal Dobbins was murdered down at Hodges’s”
The Perth Gazette and Western Australian Journal, 28 Sep 1833 p. 153

…was the message delivered across the road to the soldiers in barracks. The doughty men of the 63^rd Foot swiftly mobilised and descended on Mrs Hodges’ store…

Only in their dreams.

Dobbins was not deceased. Some bruises would be the extent of the injuries suffered by any of the parties involved in this affray. The extraordinary feature of this episode is not that Glover then brought a charge against Dobbins for assaulting him (charge dismissed, Glover ordered to pay court costs) but that Glover remained alive to even contemplate such a course of retribution.

There was an attempt made to arrest Glover by Hodges, but it failed…

He was sitting down in my shop bleeding when Hodges and two other soldiers came and said Glover was a prisoner, I refused however to give him up unless to a Civil authority. Hodges appeared as much excited with anger as Glover was.
The Perth Gazette and Western Australian Journal, 28 Sep 1833 p. 153

This shop belonged to a Mr James Solomon.

The first mention of the name: United Service Hotel appears in a newspaper dated 5 July 1834. It must have been a familiar name by then, for this title was address enough alone to advertise that an auction of a nearby property was to be carried out at that location. The allotment now being offered for sale in this advertisement was L7, just down the road, which the Hodges family promptly purchased. L7 was registered to the name of George Bell Hodges, so he was, by now, no longer a private soldier, just a private citizen.

With far more room to expand on this new site, the United Service Hotel was transferred to this fresh location.

The Perth Gazette and Western Australian Journal, 15 Aug 1835, Page 545

However, they still possessed the infrastructure on Perth Allotment L3, and this location remained physically closer to the military establishment— and a clientele whose guaranteed pay days were until recently officially known as grog money. This original structure was rebranded as the United Service Tavern, and who better to run it than Hodges’ own kin, now he had bought his way out of uniform too?

The Perth Gazette and Western Australian Journal, 5 Sep 1835, Page 558

The seeds of misfortune germinated almost straight away. Joseph Moore, Portuguese boatman and silent co-owner of L3, died very suddenly late October 1835. The Hodges found themselves having to deal with a new partner who wanted to cash in their equity in their unexpected new possession as soon as possible. The question was resolved in court by the beginning of the year 1837 but not in the Hodges family’s favour.

While this setback was being sorted (presumably at great expense) — another merchant, the one who had loaned them the money to purchase L7, attempted to auction the same out from underneath them all because of a book-keeping error on the merchants’s side. George Hodges was understandably irate and took Lionel Samson to court over another related book-keeping matter. Hodges lost that case again, as he usually did, but retained ownership of L7. Now he had antagonised the principal supplier of produce sold in his establishments.

The family may have had no choice other than to put the remainder of the original site of the United Service Hotel on L3 up for sale at the beginning of 1840. Also included was the good will, custom and the very name of the establishment his son-in-law had run for him — seemingly very successfully — for the past five years. (Notice it W[illiam] Samson, not his brother Lionel, that assisted at this sale.)

The Perth Gazette and Western Australian Journal, 4 Jan 1840, p1

The name of the hotel on lot L7 evolved over time from the United Service Hotel, to Hodge’s United Service Hotel, to just Hodge’s Hotel — then a complete re-brand as the Royal Victoria Hotel, (after the new British monarch in 1837) — shortened inevitably to the Victoria Hotel. But by then it was too late to save the family business in Western Australia. The Victoria Hotel was sold by the end of the year 1840.

Sale of the Victoria Hotel.—This old established house and extensive premises, with well stocked garden, &c, was sold by
private contract, yesterday for £1,300.
The proprietor has made a sacrifice in disposing of this property in consequence of the opposition created by the establishment of a cheap eating house, called a club; on the opposite side of the way.
The Perth Gazette and Western Australian Journal, 12 Dec 1840, p. 2

The Hodges family regularly announced their imminent departure from Western Australia over the next few years until most of their number did indeed board the colonial Brigantine Emma Sherrat, bound for a new life in India on 19 February 1845. This vessel travelled as far as the island of Mauritius. Once there, another vessel would convey them the rest of the way to wherever that would be.

The merchants of Perth were anxious to learn how well their produce on board the Emma Sherrat had sold in this potentially lucrative new market for their wares only a few days sailing from home. The days passed, then weeks, then months, with no message that the harbinger of all their futures would ever return. Sailing ships could and did vanish without trace. Four months later the Emma Sherratt finally returned to Fremantle.

In a nice piece of bastardry, George Hodges delayed her return to Western Australia by taking out a lawsuit against the vessel’s master, Captain Harding. The court case over some unrecorded matter had delayed the return trip by seven weeks. Hodges himself was never going to return to Western Australia, but he had left some family back in the Colony remaining to get out.

When Dobbins and his wife (Hodge’s daughter) eventually left Western Australia for Mauritius on 20 August 1845, it was also in the steerage hold of the Emma Sherratt. Captain Harding might have fed them to the sharks en-route to the island for all the trace in the historical record that remains afterwards of that couple.

If you know better, do let me know!

Mrs Mary Ann Hodges (nee Eckley?), who for my money is the real hero of this testosterone drenched tale, died and/or was buried in Kolkata, West Bengal (then part of British India), on 21 April 1865 at the age of 70. George Bell Hodges lived another three years before joining his wife in the same burial plot on (or about) 20 December 1868. His social status at the end of his life was recorded as being a gentleman.

Addendum:

It turns out that Irwin knew all about Hodges’ wife’s business acumen all along:—

In this town are several comfortable inns. One of them is kept by George Hodges, a discharged soldier of the 63rd regiment. This settler owes his prosperity in the colony chiefly to the prudence and good management of his wife. Having a knowledge of baking, she commenced in a very small way at Perth ; and, being noted for her steady conduct and integrity, merchants and masters of vessels entrusted her with considerable quantities of flour, for which she paid with punctuality. From her success in this, and other undertakings, her husband has now the principal bakery and inn, besides a general shop.
Frederick Chidley Irwin, The State and Position of Western Australia, Commonly Called the Swan-River Settlement, 1835, p50

Tuckfield, Trevor 1971, 1975, ‘Early colonial inns and taverns’, Early Days: Journal and proceeedings of the Royal Western Australian Historical Society, Part 1, 7, 3: 65-82; Part 2, 7, 7: 98-106.

July 21, 2021
New Government House

New Government House, Perth, brought to you by Obstruction Cat

Original plans from State Records office

reduced to 1:500 scale

copied on to card

Cutting out

sanding corners

selected portions painted for reasons that should be bloody obvious later on.

Not a single piece of roof is the same standard size

Obstruction Cat resents the lack of attention

onion dome

undercoat of gesso to obscure many crimes

First coat of paint without detailing

detailing

On display in the Museum of Perth

August 4, 2020
Reconstructing old Perth out of cardboard (so it lasts, this time)

Wesleyan Church 1870

The Perth Town Hall & legislative council building

The Perth Town Hall & legislative council building from the rear

St Georges Church, the first one.

The Mechanic’s Institute and the Freemason’s hall

The Government offices under construction

The Pump House/Guard House/Police court building. After I made this I found the original plans for this building and there is quite a bit I got wrong!

The Pensioner Barracks

The Pensioner barracks… not to be confused with…

The original soldier’s barracks

Research is the key..

But it helps if you put the buildings on the plan the right way around… (spot the deliberate error)

Spread out, the entire map of old Perth at this scale would cover something like 5 metres x 2 metres. Some what more realistically, I’m hoping to eventually complete a small cross-section of the town as it was at a largely arbitrary date of about 1880.

I’d also like to finish writing my history book on the Dysons this year, so which will come first?

May 19, 2020
Rename Canning Bridge

Mr HYDE was the father of James Dyson’s best man at his wedding back in 1841. A few years after this was written, he was dead.

Inquirer, Wed 23 Feb 1848 Page 3

This is not the reason why I repost this 1848 article, instead it is to draw attention to some of the content, which I find shocking and offensive in the extreme. I was appalled to discover that once again our history has been whitewashed, our common heritage suppressed. I am appalled that Canning Bridge, the crossing between South Perth and Applecross has been denied it’s traditional name. I am outraged that we no longer refer to this portal as Hell’s Gates.

The first bridge across this hellmouth was constructed in 1850. It washed away. The next one burnt down. There was another one which lasted from 1892 until 1938 when the ghost-fence we currently enjoy was erected.

Hell’s Gate c 1906

J’ACCUSE!

Why was I denied the opportunity to attend Hell’s Gate Senior High School? I mean, I think I did anyway, but WHY WASN’T IT CALLED THAT? Think of all those residents of green and leafy suburbs of Applecross, Ardross, etc. who miss out on paying their rates to the CITY OF HELL’S GATE. Write to your local member of parliament. Demand the name be changed. You are being denied your democratic right to vote for the Right Honourable Member for HELL’S GATE.

So until you next run the gauntlet under the gimlet gaze of the pelicans of terror, consider now this short photo essay of the environs of Canning Bridge, the once and future Hell’s Gate*

The approach of doom

The abandoned shopping trolley of death

The dead Jellyfish of horror

The nightmare crossing

Waters of Armageddon

The point of no return

Unspeakable horror

The ducks of evil

from whose maw no traveller returns

*This article may have been written under the influence too much caffeine.

Beware the pelicans of terror.

April 6, 2019
A Tale of Three Cities

Albany, Fremantle and Perth: The three oldest cities in Western Australia.

They were not necessarily the first to be proclaimed cities (Perth was the first), they were not even necessarily the most economically and socially significant settlements in Western Australia at various times during the colonial era and afterwards (but Perth still is)— but they were the first to be inhabited by British colonists at their respective locations— and they had one other essential characteristic that bound them within a most holy trinity: At various times the inhabitants of all three violently detested the inhabitants of at least one of the other two and would do all within their powers to thwart the ambitions of any who had the temerity not to be them.

Albany, on the shores of King George Sound on the far south coast was the oldest British settlement in Western Australia and had a superb natural harbour. Firstly named Frederick-town, It predated the collection of shacks on the banks of the Swan River by at least three years, and for these two reasons alone, incurred the undying hatred of the citizens of Fremantle and Perth.

Fremantle was the second settlement to be founded. A rocky headland surrounded by bleached white sand adjacent to the mouth of the Swan River and an absolutely useless port due to the stony bar that blocked the mouth of the river. The adjacent coast was fortressed by hidden rocks and reefs, and exposed to the gales and cyclones that could sweep in from the Indian Ocean, summer or winter. Fremantle was the initial capital for James Stirling’s Swan River Colony, so significant money was spent by the government to build a courthouse for the town, and by various grandees to erect fine stone houses on Cantonment street, so as to be near the seat of power in the land. Then Stirling decided on Perth as the site for his capital, and the resources expended on the Fremantle Court building (now long demolished) meant that the public building in Perth would have to be a timber shack for many years to come, and the abandoned shells of the well-heeled’s mansions would grace the tiny town of Fremantle for many decades afterwards. Thus the Fremantle — Perth rivalry was born.

Perth came third. Located on the opposite side of the river from Fremantle, and wedged between a large hill, a loop in the river and swamps to the north, Perth was to be the capital only because the Governor said so. Fremantle frequently lobbied to have the seat of power transferred back to her sandy grasp,

Swan River Guardian, Thu 15 Dec 1836, Page 42

and for a brief horrific moment when Governor Stirling returned from his sojourn back to Britain to schmoose some more money for his struggling settlement, it seemed he might be about to transfer the capital to Albany. However there was deep resentment within the opposing settlements that Stirling chose to open up a landward road between his chosen capital and Albany before any such road between Perth and Fremantle.

Being on opposite sides of a wide river that was inaccessible to large ships due to that stone bar across the river mouth, in the absence of a road (even the bad one that was eventually formed) or a single bridge between Perth and Fremantle, those with small boats made a killing with their monopoly on transport. It was more expensive at times to ship something from Fremantle to Perth then it was from Britain to Western Australia. This was another reason Perthites could detest the men of Fremantle.

But Western Australians were never too particular about who they were against—

Perth was the first settlement to be declared a city in the Colony of Western Australia. This occurred at a rather arbitrary point in history in the year 1856. It was decided by they the powers-that-be that Western Australians should no longer groan under the yoke of a Church of England Bishop from the Eastern Colonies, so Perth would be made a bishopric. Only a city could be made a bishopric, so Queen Victoria, defender of the faith &c &c. proclaimed that Perth was now a cathedral city on 23 September 1856.

Sunday Times, 2 June, p. 7

For the previous six years Western Australia had been under the religious administration of the Bishop of Adelaide. It must have rankled those who took such matters seriously that the Colony of South Australia had been founded many years after that of Western Australia and was now out-performing them by nearly every metric. South Australian grain needed to be shipped to the west to feed the older colony. Vested farming interests in the Avon valley lobbied for tariffs on grain imports. You might think Western Australians hated their immediate neighbours less than those from rival colonies, but you would be wrong.

Western Mail, Fri 2 Oct 1896 Page 32

Perth’s population in 1856 was under 5000. Fremantle was not declared a city until 1929 when it’s population was 27,000. Albany was not officially gazetted a city until 1997. It’s population would have then been over 30,000. For better or for worse, administrative power was centralised in the hands of the Perthites and there was nothing the merchants of Fremantle or the burghers of Albany could do about it— although there was a time when Albany almost became the capital city of it’s very own state.

This was during the 1890’s when the Federation of the Australian Colonies was being seriously discussed and the powers-that-be in Perth seriously did not want to secede any of their hard fought for local powers to a new authority that would inevitably be based on the other side of the continent. The complication was now, there was another new population centre in the Colony that threatened to dwarf all the others in influence and wealth: The gold mining conurbation of Kalgoorlie/Boulder/Coolgardie. Albany had been treated so badly by Fremantle and Perth (Perth had callously ignored Albany’s interests when the railway had been ploughed through the centre of the town during the 1880s, while Fremantle had gleefully stripped Albany of it’s shipping businesses when it finally acquired a half-decent port in 1897) that the Albanians (Yes, they called themselves that) were quite prepared to join Kalgoorlie in a new Colony/State of Aurelia, and THEN join the new Australian Commonwealth. The territorial integrity of the Colony of Western Australia was only preserved by the surrender of the Western Australian leadership to the public will for union with the rest of Australia (and a plum posting for their premier as Treasurer for the new Commonwealth.)

And that is the main point of this article: Albany, Fremantle, Perth—for over a century-and-three-quarters their respective leaderships have been badmouthing each other for political gain. As for their people, they mostly knew they came from somewhere else, anyway.

September 15, 2018
On Cemetery Hill

Firsts are a tricky thing. The Old East Perth Cemetery was certainly not the first colonial burial site in Western Australia. The unmarked graves of the thirty-odd settlers who died at Clarence by what is now known as Woodman’s Point were filled around about the same time in early 1830, when the first recorded interment at East Perth was taking place. Talking of records, the record-keeping skills of the early Swan River Colonists were pathetic. There is no formal burial register for the unified aggregation of denominational Christian cemeteries that make up Old East Perth Cemetery. There has been a lot of research into who actually might be buried in the ground, but there are certainly many gaps in our knowledge.

Educated guesses are just that—guesses—there is always the possibility of being proved gloriously and magnificently wrong.

The colonial burial ground today.

For a site with at least 10,000 interments within it over a seventy year period of use (roughly 1830-1899), there are mere handful of headstones surviving. While wilful vandalism during the 20th Century can account for a lot, haphazard usage over the course of its life (If Cemeteries can be said to be alive?) account for much:—

Sunday Times, Sunday 26 February 1911 p6

Most of the surviving monuments appear to be from the last years of East Perth’s formal operations in the 1890’s. There were probably many more family crypts on the ground than are visible today. Wood rots, Slate delaminates, sandstone crumbles, iron rusts, lead lettering peels away.

Drewy Dyson’s name is taken in vain when discussing the state of the cemetery in 1911. Of course most of Drewy’s immediate family were buried in a family plot on the site. The iron railings and tombstone that still exist in situ were most likely erected by Drewy himself in his capacity as funeral director:—

WHY live miserable when you can be buried comfortably by A. DYSON, Undertaker?
The Daily News (Perth, WA : 1882 – 1950) Friday 18 March 1892 p 2

But the occasion of his mother’s death as an excuse for a refurbishment of the family plot was the one time Drewy did not spare every expense. It contained a tribute to his late father who had died eleven years ago and his father’s first wife who, according to Drewy’s monument, died forty-nine years ago. The problem is, Drewy was almost certainly— deliberately— lying about the dating of certain events.

The Dyson family plot lies in the Wesleyan Section of the Old East Perth Cemetery. A stone’s throw away (but I could not condone this sort of behaviour) is the monument to George Shenton, the pious druggist, the merchant philanthropist whose story seemed to intertwine with that of the Dyson family (and every other significant family in the early years of the Colony).

The Grave of George Shenton, senior.

The Wesleyan Methodist portion of the cemetery was not inaugurated until 1854, so, as the helpful guides from the National Trust can point out to you, how could Frances Dyson have been buried in that location in 1850?Visiting the family grave in June 2018, I was sorry to see how much the Dyson grave stone has deteriorated in the five years since my last visit:—

The Dyson stone in 2018

The same stone in 2013

I hasten to stress this is no reflection on the current custodians of the cemetery grounds. The grave is surrounded by iron railings and its hard to see how it could be better protected, short of obscuring the stone entirely. The reality is that the money available for any sort of restoration is not there, and while I’d love to see all the surviving stones in East Perth stabilised, possibly something else, like reinstating marker numbers for lost grave sites— they have numbers for existing headstones only— would be more worthwhile. This way many more hundreds, if not thousands of now anonymous grave sites could be identified for visiting, providing a focal point for the pilgrimage of many more families.

Bloody hell! its worse than I thought. This was the Dyson grave circa 1980. [thanks to Lorraine Dyson for the photo]

More grave numbering please!

This Star Wars-opening scroll-type stone is for Captain John Septimus Roe who surveyed the site for this cemetery back in 1829.

Our old friend, Ben Mason

Also in the Wesleyan section, Francis Fraser Armstrong himself.

The Old East Perth Cemetery is located (surprise surprise!) in East Perth, Western Australia. It is only open to the public for a couple of hours on Sunday afternoons. There is a small admission charge. I cannot over-stress how helpful the volunteer guides of the National Trust on duty at the cemetery have been to me for my research, particularly on the Dyson family, over many years.

June 25, 2018
The Smoking Gun

Today is a red-letter day.

Today I found the smoking gun.

Then they shot him.

My pet peeve is the way certain of my ancestors have been air-brushed out of history just as blatantly as a Soviet apparatchik on one of Stalin’s bad days…

Dyson, the Perth marine-store dealer of Falstaffian brawn, is connected with the Groperopolis Wesleyan Church. Leastways his father built it. Old man Dyson, the yarn rues, had to wait a deuce of a time for his money.
Sunday Times (Perth, WA : 1902 – 1954) Sunday 13 December 1903 p8

This Dyson, is of course, Drewy, and the church his father James was supposed to have built is the Wesleyan Church on the corner of Hay and William Street. Completed in 1870, it is one of the earliest surviving buildings in Perth.

Wesley Church this very day, Perth, Western Australia

Aged nine in 1867, Drewy claimed to have worked on the build himself:—

“Drewey Dyson’s dad built the present Wesleyan Church.
[…]
Anno Domini 1867, when Dyson, sen, was building the present Wesleyan Church, at the corner of Hay and William-street, the present Drewey Dyson, of West Perth, was billy-boy on the job, and used to make the tea at midday, run messages, and generally make himself useful in a small-boy way.”
Sunday Times (Perth, WA : 1902 – 1954) Sunday 18 May 1919 p17

Sunday Times (Perth, WA : 1902 – 1954) Sunday 2 July 1922 p7

Then there was the famous article and photograph of Drewy and “Lemonade Joe” Moor from 1922 which mentioned how the two assisted a Mr Carson to build the weather-cock on the Church steeple.

That seemed to be enough evidence:— James Dyson had built the Wesley Church, where his son Joseph would later be a Sunday School teacher and another son would be convicted of throwing eggs at the parishioners…

… Then I read all the official Wesley Church histories I could find… There have been quite a few over the years, mostly by pastors past and present, and the tale they tell is of progress ever upwards (but never quite explaining the utter irrelevance of their movement by the later half of the twentieth century and beyond). The most recent of these, however, was not written by a cleric, so was refreshingly open about some of the less than saintly shenanigans surrounding the institution. In Thea Shipley’s Full Circle: A History of Wesley Church Perth, published in 2003, there was a whole chapter devoted to the construction of the church building. Because I felt I could trust this author not to sugar-coat the history, and because there was absolutely no mention of any of the Dysons in any of the earlier histories either, I was forced to the conclusion that James Dyson’s role in the construction of the church was yet another Drewy Dyson fantasy. Benjamin Mason, Dyson’s rival in the timber trade was definitely recorded as having provided timber, and William Buggins, a well known builder of the time (and also connected to Joseph Dyson’s in-laws’ family) was mentioned to have overseen construction, that clinched it for me.

The front of the original St George’s Cathedral in the late 1860’s

It was not impossible that Drewy had miss-remembered which church his old dad had worked on. Construction on the first St George’s Church commenced a few years before James Dyson arrived in the colony. By March 1842, progress was still crawling as the iron roof ordered from England failed to arrive. As was noted in a later history:—

“It was then decided to make a wooden roof locally and the sawyers in the Colony combined to raise the price of timber for the purpose.”
[T. G. Heydon, “The Early Church in Western Australia”, The Western Australian Historical Society (Inc) Journal and proceedings Vol II. Part XI p1]

James Dyson was on the ground by now, and this sounds exactly what I would have expected him to do…

Even if he did not contribute to this initial phase, he was certainly involved in a later extension to the church in 1862. (It is important to note that this is not the same Cathedral building that stands today, which dates to the last years of the nineteenth century)

The Inquirer & Commercial News (Perth, WA : 1855 – 1901) Wednesday 2 July 1862 p2

Also involved in this extension is the same Mr Buggins previously referred to. Given that both he and Dyson are mentioned together for this project and Buggins alone is mentioned in the Wesleyan histories, it begins to look like Drewy’s memories might have been at fault.

Stereographic view of the back of St George’s Cathedral, for which James Dyson provided timber flooring.

The work on the original St George’s Church was famously slow and ill-funded and the story that Dyson did not get paid for a very long time rang true for his involvement with that project. On the other hand, the Wesley Church of 1870 (the second of its name), was begun in 1867 and was largely funded by the Shenton family, in particular, their patriarch, George Shenton (senior). When Shenton died suddenly and unexpectedly at sea in 1870, shortly before the building was opened, the outstanding sums were allegedly paid out by his family as a tribute his memory. This was the same Shenton Dyson bought his swamp from, and whose son, who would have paid the final bills for the church, would buy it back from Dyson some years later. Shenton senior had gifted to Dyson a family bible on the occasion of his (eventual) marriage to Mrs Jane Edwards. Given this history, it did not sound right to me that the Shentons would not pay their bills on time.

Here my investigations might have ended with the the conclusion that:—No, James Dyson didn’t build the Wesleyan Church, but his kids might have watched with interest, given that the family only lived a few houses down on Murray Street…

Then the trail led me to William Traylen, Methodist Pastor in Western Australia. He arrived in the colony only days after the death of Shenton, and was one of the first speakers from the pulpit of the newly consecrated church. He was involved in the temperance movement, and his name had arisen in conjunction with Joseph Dyson’s activities in the same sphere as was mentioned in the article concerning the mystery of Dyson’s Hotel. While researching further, I learned he kept a diary, some of which survived and has been published.

I tracked down this book (compiled by one of his ancestors), and found something that none of the official histories of the Wesley Church, Perth, had deigned to share with us*— It was a reproduction of an 1867 ledger during the construction phase of the church, and it revealed what the public record had tried so hard to obscure—

*(I do not include Thea Shipley in this complaint. Her manuscript was published posthumously and who knows what was cut out, or never written.)

Buggins, Mason, and James Dyson — all together on the ledger — all paid by the building committee of the Wesleyan Church. Dyson supplied both Bricks AND Timber and was paid £672, 7s and 10d. Yes, he built the Wesley Church; No, Drewy was not lying… for a change.

Today was a good day….

…So here are some more of my great-great-great-great grandfather’s bricks:

December 14, 2017