Darlinghurst Blog: Past and Present: Higgs Corner

So the Frenchman never sent me any more pix as promised (see previous post), and I don't write or speak his language so I can't really blame him. 

But never mind, because this major crossroad of Darlinghurst Road and Victoria Street - which his Papa had photographed in the 1960s - had already been on my radar, specifically the corner of William Street and Darlinghurst Road (pictured above in 1936).

Back in the early 20th century it was known as Higgs Corner (pictured above in 1916). It was called this because the building was once home to A.A. Higgs, a bootmaker who specialised in surgical shoes and "repairs by craftsmen skilled in the art". 

I guess Higgs was the early 1900s version of the Surry Hills Perkal Bros who were profiled in yesterday's Good Weekend in The Sydney Morning Herald.

In September 1916 Flora Helena Mann and Daniel Spillane, executors for the will of Esmay Farrell sued the Municipal Council of Sydney for compensation for the land at Higgs Corner.

The property had been resumed by the council for the widening of William Street at a cost of 8,800 Pounds. But Mann and Spillane wanted 18,000 Pounds. 

(There's not much talk about Esmay Farrell in the archives, except for her estate, because she apparently owned the York Hotel in Central Sydney. Was she a descendant of the Farrell of Farrell Street? A relative of Bumper Farrell? I'm afraid I can't shed any light with my research budget.)

In case you are interested, the photograph above from the City of Sydney Archives, was taken in March 1918, probably just before the building was demolished.

Here's another view (above) from the archives of 1918, from the perspective of Darlinghurst Fire Station. As you can see Mr Higgs is having a sale, no doubt because his building is about to be demolished.

As an aside, Ms Farrell's estate also had an address known as 1A Craigend Street, which was declared, in April 1939, a "common gaming house". Legal action was taken against the tenant, Frank Benjamin.

The picture at the top of this post shows what the corner looked like in the 1930s, after Higgs Corner was demolished, but William Street was widened or realigned again in the 1970s for the Kings Cross Tunnel, so the building pictured above (from City Archives) now marked the corner. 

In the 1980s the building was home to Michelangelo's (above, from City Archives), an Italian cafe with gelato, pasta and espresso coffee. 

The cafe stayed for many years and was still there in the late 1990s as far as I can recall. 

Do you remember the old news stands, like the one above? 

I vividly remember the one at Taylor Square and frequented it to buy American Vogue and The Face magazine. 

In recent times Higgs Corner has been home to a series of not so successful bars, such as Firebar, shown above. 

At the moment Higgs Corner is home to a bar awkwardly named Awkward. 

It seems to be going OK, despite the fact they have strange displays in which they place a live model dressed in colourful clothing in the Darlinghurst Road window on random evenings. 

Not sure what that's about, but the location looks like a good place to have a coffee on a sunny day.

SOURCES:

City of Sydney Archives

Trove

Darlinghurst Blog: Street Art: Spring

Birds are nesting outside my window, my glimpse of Sydney Harbour is shimmering turquoise, white triangles of sailings boats bob by, a breeze sweeps past heady with the fragrance of jasmine blossoms, the temperature is set to reach 27 degrees and the floral daleks have returned to Darlinghurst's streets. 

It can only mean Spring. Oh, how I love this season with its promise of renewal and adventures under a blue sky. 

An anonymous street artist celebrated the return of Spring with this flowering paste-up that seems to magically grow from the wall of the Griffin Theatre Company's administration building on the corner of Nimrod and Craigend streets.  Are those flowers Violets? I think so, which makes it even more special to me. Pop up and take your photograph next to it before it disappears. 

Darlinghurst Blog: Villas of Darlinghurst: Craigend

Detail from elevation and plan of a house proposed to be built on Craigend, 1829, Number 12 of the Wolloomooloo Hill allotments. Artist unknown.

Craigend: allotment of over 9 acres granted to Sir Thomas Livingstone Mitchell in 1831.

Craigend was the first home to be built at the highest point of the Darlinghurst Ridge as part of the original development of the area in the 1820s and 1830s. The home was built for Sir Thomas Livingstone Mitchell, who arrived in Australia from Scotland in 1827 after being appointed the colony's Assistant Surveyor-General. 

Mitchell was born in a house called Craigend in the town of Grangemouth, central Scotland, in 1792 and although poor was well educated. He could read in several languages and was proficient in science. 

In his early 20s he was made a lieutenant of the 95th regiment and during the Peninsular war, between France and the allied powers of Spain, Portugal and the United Kingdom, he served in the Spanish towns of Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz and Salamanca. 

His main role was to obtain topographical intelligence and these skills were noticed by the Quartermaster General, Sir George Murray, who employed him to produce plans of the major Iberian Peninsular battlefields. 

After his marriage in June 1818, Sir Murray helped him land the role of Assistant Surveyor General in Sydney and in 1827, Mitchell and wife, Mary, arrived in Australia.

Mitchell actively petitioned for land on Woolloomooloo Hill (Darlinghurst) and in 1831 he was authorised to select an allotment. He chose a grant of just over nine acres positioned on the highest point of the ridge, where Royston Street is today.

Mitchell designed the villa, Craigend, and its Parthenon-style portico and elevated position on the hill led it to be known as the Acropolis of Sydney. But Mitchell's wild spending on such a grand mansion led him into financial trouble and in 1837 he was forced to subdivide his nine acres and sell the Craigend estate.

Until then, Mitchell was quite the adventurer. 

The Survey Department was a schmozzle when he arrived. Surveying instruments were few and many of the staff were incompetent, so that title deeds were delayed and doubts and disputes arose about boundary lines. Tent poles were used to measure base lines, and hillsides with lone trees were used as trigonometrical points. 

Mitchell inherited the position of Surveyor General in 1828 and the following year became responsible for the survey of roads and bridges. His work included making changes in the roads from Sydney to Parramatta and Liverpool, as well as plotting new courses to Berrima and Goulburn and a trail from the Blue Mountains to Bathurst. Many of the roads he plotted are much the same as the ones used today.

During his career in the 1830s, Mitchell also made expeditions to central, far-west and north-west NSW, to towns such as Orange, Menindee, Namoi, Tamworth and Narrabri. 

On one expedition in February 1832, two of his party were killed by indigenous Australians near Moree. In March 1835, botanist Richard Cunningham was also killed by Aborigines at Bogan and on the same expedition the party encountered members of the Darling tribe who they described as ''implacably hostile and shamelessly dishonest''. During an affray with the group, shots were fired and several Aborigines were killed and wounded. Mitchell returned home.

Mitchell made a third expedition to plot out parts of the Darling and Murray rivers, but again his party got into strife with the locals and seven Aborigines were killed near Mount Dispersion.

An inquiry conducted into the deaths by the Executive Council in 1836 found that Mitchell had not made sufficient efforts to be conciliatory to the Aborigines but the council could not blame his ''want of coolness and presence of mind, which it is the lot of few men to possess''.

In 1837, Mitchell returned to the United Kingdom, wrote a book about his expeditions, begged for a knighthood and returned to Australia four years later as a Sir.

He briefly held an elected position on the Legislative Council and made a fourth expedition into the eastern interior of Australia.

During the 1840s he again returned to the United Kingdom but came back to Sydney to write another book, The Australian Geography, which placed Australia in the centre of the world map and became a school text in NSW in the 1850s.

Mitchell, who was a bit of a rogue in the colony and was regularly accused of insubordination, was also involved in one of the last duals in Australia with a chap called Stuart Donaldson who had publicly made some inaccurate, presumably defamatory, remarks about him. On September 27, 1851, each fired three shots and it was reported that one bullet went through Donaldson's hat while another went within an inch of Mitchell's throat.

In 1855, while surveying a line of road between Nelligen and Braidwood, south of Sydney, Mitchell developed pneumonia and died at his home in Sydney on October 5. Mary survived Mitchell but five of their 12 children did not. 

Craigend, which Mitchell had sold years earlier, had a succession of owners and was later converted into a hospital, then a boarding house in the early 1900s. The Acropolis of Sydney was demolished in 1822 to make way for a large block of flats (below). 

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SOURCES: The Australian Dictionary of Biography

Villas of Darlinghurst

Darlinghurst: Lost and Found: George the Staffy

Have you seen George?

(He was taken by a tall white skinhead)

Please call 0409 982 048

$2000 Reward Offered

George was tied up to a pole on the corner of Darlinghurst and Bayswater roads about 5pm on Friday while his owner, Nahji Chu - the owner of Miss Chu - was inside a shop. When she returned, George was gone. 

He was last seen being led by a tall, white skinhead down William Street. 

Nahji is offering a $2000 reward for George's safe return and has plastered the neighbourhood's telegraph poles with fliers and set up this Facebook page in a bid to find him.

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CORRECTION: It was Nahji's friend who left him tied to the pole. Meanwhile Nahji has enlisted a psychic in the search for George, while a rescue party is meeting at Miss Chu's on Bourke Street tomorrow morning to walk the streets in a bid to sniff out the staffy.

Darlinghurst Blog: History: 77 Barcom Avenue

I received an email last week from a reader in the UK called Mr Pitt who came across my Darlinghurst blog while researching his family history. 

Mr Pitt's great-grandmother emigrated to Australia as a young, single woman in 1882. On the ship on the way over she met a crewman who would turn out to be Mr Pitt's great-grandfather. 

The young man had to disembark in Brisbane, in Queensland, and the young woman continued on to Adelaide, in South Australia. 

But the young man's heart was set aflutter and he quickly and steadily worked his way down and around the coast to his sweetheart. Based on the fact that Mr Pitts exists, a happy ending was assured. 

After the crewman's death, the now not-so-young-woman moved to Western Australia and then Sydney, settling in a house at 12 Craigend Street, where she died in 1937. That house no longer exists, but Mr Pitt was also interested in a house at 77 Barcom Avenue where another ancestor lived. 

And naturally I promised to send him some photographs pronto.

The only problem with my promise was that the weather has been so dreadful and when I had a rare day off on Monday, I looked out the window (above), rain was beating down, and I decided I really didn't want to leave the house. I mooched around my apartment for a bit and hit upon the idea of looking up the address on Google Street View, but the website failed to shed any light on the house and simply revealed an old stone wall. So I put on a coat and boots, grabbed my umbrella and set off for Barcom Avenue and as if by magic, the rain stopped.

I wandered through the empty Monday streets and eventually arrived at the place that Google Street View said was 77 Barcom Avenue (above). Google Street View was wildly off the mark; the street numbers were all wrong, so I continued on until I finally reached a long patch of green where the numbers just disappeared. I stopped and scratched my head for a bit and must have looked quite lost, because just then a ginger cat sauntered out of the foliage and asked me if I needed directions.

The cat wouldn't tell me his name and I don't really fancy talking to strange animals, but I had to admit that I needed some help. ''I'm trying to find 77,'' I said to the cat.

''Number 77, eh?,'' the cat replied.

''And why do you need to find that place? Hot date?''

I was shocked. 

''Cattle!'' I said

''Of course not, I am trying to find it for Mr Pitt of the United Kingdom whose great-grandmother's daughter lived there in the 1930s. He is curious as to what it looks like, so I am simply here to take some photographs to send to him.''

The cat just pulled a strange face and said ''follow me''.

We didn't go far down the footpath before the ginger cat stopped and said, ''There you go, up the stairs with you - so long now,'' and then it padded off, tail in the air.

I called out to its disappearing form, ''Thanks, Cattle!'' then followed the animal's order and went up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs was a long row of terrace houses. I looked right . . .

. . . then left; checked the numbers and continued along this way:

By now I was a bit spooked, what with the strange ginger cat and an obscure Darlinghurst address from some complete stranger in England; I was starting to wonder if an axe-murderer lived at 77 and was going to grab me when I approached, slice me into bits and maybe feed me to the cat. And no one has the password to my email account, so they would never think to look for me in a cat food bowl at 77 Barcom Avenue. And number 77, right at the end of the row, certainly looked very creepy:

So I approached the doorway with caution . . .

. . . and suddenly out stepped this big man wielding an axe. 

Luckily that did not happen. But I had worked myself into such a spook, that I didn't dare knock to see if anyone was home. Instead I quickly took some photographs of the building and dashed off.

 I was faster than lightning as I took those stairs back down, three at a time, careful not to slip on the wet stone. When I reached the street, there was no sign of the ginger cat, or anyone for that matter. It was deathly quiet.

So there you are, Mr Pitt: the old family home at 77 Barcom Avenue (the white one on the right, above). Incidentally, the house is one of a row of 12 terraces (55-77 Barcom Avenue) built in the early 1900s, but is nothing special compared to that pink place next door, which was built in the 1880s for the Brown family who only sold it in 1959. The grand manor was converted into nine flats in the 1960s but still retains its original 4.6m high ceilings, decorative tiled floors and other heritage features.

It sold at auction last year for $4.15 million.

The most recently sold house in the row of 12, at 63 Barcom Avenue, went for $590,00 in 2008.

The first mention of 77 Barcom Avenue in the newspapers was a very basic To Let advertisement in the Sydney Morning Herald on October 25, 1911 for an ''unfurnished room''.

The embankment surrounding the stairs must have been built in the 1930s for in June 1932, someone placed an advertisement in the Herald for a ''Price for filling holes and grading embankment. Meet agent 11am, 55-77 Barcom Avenue, Darlinghurst.''

And finally in the Wanted ads on October 6, 1944: ''Wanted. Urgent. Large unfurnished flat or small cottage, rent optional, excellent credentials and business references, will lease if necessary. Mrs S.N. Lazarus, 77 Barcom Avenue, Darlinghurst.''

I'm afraid that's all I could discover about 77 Barcom Avenue. Perhaps that funny old, mysterious cat knows the building's secrets. If I ever see the cat again, I'll make sure I ask it.

Darlinghurst: Houses: 40A Caldwell Street

I received a message last week from a Darlinghurst resident and reader who was concerned about the ''nasty development planned for the little lane with the beautiful historic sandstone wall that runs behind the terraces at the bottom of Beare's Stairs.'' 

I had seen the development application for 40A Caldwell Street, but had no idea where that address was and assumed it was a development planned for a site with an existing house. I knew nothing about a laneway or an historic sandstone wall, so set out to investigate.

Even if you walk along Surrey Street or use Beare's Stairs regularly, you may never have noticed a large wooden gate tucked away in the eastern corner of this Caldwell Street laneway. I certainly hadn't noticed it. But here it is:

Behind the wooden gate is a landscaped area that backs on to three Surrey Street terraces. It was difficult to see the landscaping, even when I looked over the gate, and under it:

This is the laneway, which was once a ''dunny lane'' that the reader mentioned and you can see the sandstone foundation wall on the right side of the right photograph. The area is about 2.6m wide and runs the length of three terraces at 79, 77 and 75 Surrey Street and has kind of been requisitioned by them to add an extra third of space to their back gardens. So the laneway is actually a private garden now and it is very difficult for anyone who doesn't live in these three terraces (below) to appreciate the sandstone foundation wall. 

The land - just 48m2 of it - is actually a separate Torrens title that dates back to the original 1800s subdivision of this area, now known as the Barcom Conservation Area. Perhaps because of its small size and obscure location, it was never developed. But now, the owners of 40 Caldwell Street (the blue terrace below right) have bought the title and want to develop the space. 

The terrace at 40 Caldwell Street is owned by a company called Specialist Advocates, whose sole directors are Federal Court judge Dennis Cowdroy and his wife, Jennifer. Specialist Advocates purchased the title for 40A Caldwell Street in November last year for a token $1 from grazier John Robison, who had inherited the title. 

There was a well-researched story in Tuesday's The Australian newspaper by Jodie Minus, which details the history of how the grazier came to have the title, which you can read here.

On February 2 architect Stafford Watts submitted a development application to the City of Sydney  council to build a $200,000 four-storey house with three bedrooms for the little site. The house will literally be wedged in to the site, right up against 40 Caldwell Street, which will act as a support wall:

If you look in the above illustration, you can also see how the front of the house will have a 4m high   ''sparrow-pecked'' sandstone ''plinth . . . to complement the sandstone base of No 40 Caldwell Street and provide a suitable backdrop to Beare's Stairs,'' according to the Statement of Environmental Effects submitted to the council. 

By law, there are also no windows on the side facing the backyards of 75, 77 and 79 Surrey Street, so their privacy isn't an issue. The only issue for those three terraces is sunlight and shadow, which is minutely detailed in the SOEE - but I won't bore you with that. And, of course, the loss of some of their garden.

I understand the reader's concerns about the disappearance of the historic sandstone foundation wall, but I frankly did not know about it anyway; it is only accessible and visible to the residents of those three Surrey Street terraces; and finally, there are loads of historic sandstone walls and foundations around Darlinghurst and I doubt the suburb will suffer for the loss of this one. 

Having said that, I really don't think the development application will be approved by the council because it is just seems far too daring and a little bit crazy to want to build a house on this tiny block. Access to the site for builders and scaffolding is also likely to be a major issue and just imagine if a bulldozer or grader or whatever accidentally bumped in to Beare's Stairs and damaged them. The spot would hardly get any sun and would just be a mosquito infested swamp. 

I also think it is a good idea to keep these heritage dunny-lanes as they are a rather peculiar relic of the past. What do you think? 

Interestingly, Mr Robison the grazier also inherited ''dunny lanes'' at 8A Nimrod Street (above left) and 24A Nimrod Street (above right, reclaimed by property owners years ago), which he has so far left unclaimed. 

The Griffin Theatre Company has applied to the NSW Land and Property Management Authority for possession of the title at 8A. The title apparently runs all the way along the backs of houses on Craigend and Caldwell streets, right past the theatre to the kerb. The theatre want the title so they can use the wide footpath area (below - apologies for the grainy night pic) for an alfresco day cafe and night bar. They will add another entrance to the theatre in the wall on the right.

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To view the development application for 40A Caldwell Street, Darlinghurst, visit the council's site here.

The exhibition period closes on Thursday March 3. 

UPDATE: The exhibition period has been extended to March 25.

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While on the topic of heritage, the submission period for the council's proposed redevelopment of Fitzroy Gardens was extended until February 25 - that's tomorrow! Be quick! 

Visit the Save Fitzroy Gardens website, which has an easy one-click-wonder-way to lodge your submission. 

Darlinghurst: Lost and Found: Missing Pixel

Oh, no! A missing cat.

''Have you seen Pixel? 

Pixel is a beautiful 10-year-old tabby cat missing from the Darlo area for a week.

He is a little shy but very vocal, and may be under your house or hanging in your garden.

Pixel isn't wearing a collar, but he is micro-chipped and well cared for.

If you have seen Pixel please call Kat on 0425 768 827.

Thanks, I really miss him.''

This sad poster was taped to a telegraph pole on Craigend Street yesterday. Poor little Pixel. He is so cute. I wonder where he is? I hope he is just having a short adventure and returns home soon. If you live in Darlinghurst, please keep an eye out for him.

Darlinghurst: Detritus: Christmas Below the Coke Sign

Christmas Lights Above the Coke Sign, Christmas Eve, 2010.

It's a Friday night and Christmas Eve in Darlinghurst and the neighbourhood is empty. Residents have flown from the city, suburbia has decided to give the suburb of sin a miss for the night, and tourists are low key. 

Parking spots? 

Hundreds of them.

Yet over the past couple of weeks, people have been celebrating Christmas in Darlinghurst with trees, wreaths and colourful lights - in laundromats, dress shops and private homes. I wandered through the back streets seeking out such decorations and here is a collection of photographs taken on my jaunts.

I'll be back on Monday, December 27, with a reader's ripper of a story set in 1960s Darlinghurst, so make sure you check in next week.

Have a safe and happy Christmas dear readers! 

Stars and Lights, Burton Street Laundromat, Darlinghurst.

Christmas Tree, Caldwell Street, Darlinghurst.

Lights, Liverpool Street, Darlinghurst.

Bells, Surrey Street, Darlinghurst.

Red Christmas Tree, Forbes Street, Darlinghurst.

Christmas Tree, Hardie Street, Darlinghurst.

Kingsgate Shopping Centre, Kings Cross

Merry Christmas, Blossom Gardens Nursery, Burton Street, Darlinghurst.

Plastic Santa, Blue Spinach, Liverpool Street, Darlinghurst.

Christmas Tree, Womerah Avenue, Darlinghurst.

Red Door and Wreath, Womerah Avenue, Darlinghurst.

White Door and Wreath, Surrey Street, Darlinghurst.

Star and Wreath, Surrey Street, Darlinghurst.

Blue Lights, Surrey Street, Darlinghurst.

 Wreath, Craigend Street, Darlinghurst.

Nativity Scene, Nimrod Street, Darlinghurst.

Tinsel-Covered Bus, Oxford Street, Darlinghurst.

Christmas Tree, 22 Roslyn Gardens, Elizabeth Bay.

 Christmas Trees, 61 Roslyn Gardens, Elizabeth Bay.

 Miniature Christmas Tree, 46 Roslyn Gardens, Elizabeth Bay.

Lights on Frangipani Tree, 19 Roslyn Street, Elizabeth Bay

And my little tree branches!