74 Crown street, Woolloomooloo
Image © City of Sydney Archives, Demolition books 1906-1949, NSCA CRS 51/1623.
This pair of photographs was taken in the 1930s as a survey of balcony enclosures, which were common in the years following the Great Depression as people sought new ways to increase their living spaces to accommodate family members or paying tenants. The first photograph, taken in 1934, shows an adult figure standing on the front verandah, while two small children perch on the front step below. Both houses, 72 and 74 Crown street still stand today in Woolloomooloo, sandwiched in between two modern buildings.
The terraces were built in about 1890, although there were certainly houses on the site earlier than this, with newspaper records showing several occupants of houses on both sites back to the 1850s. The first residents of the new terrace at number 74 appear to be the Evans family – a child was born to the Evans there in 1890, and Mrs Evans passed away at home in 1900. In the early 1900s it was sold to a Mrs Margaret Hayes, and by the start of the first world war it had become rented premises, listing many tenants who came and went with regularity.
I have uncovered several references to the inhabitants of number 74 over the years, but none that point to who our mystery family in the photograph might be. In Aug 1916, resident family the Mercers lost a son in combat: Private Mercer was killed in action at Lone Pine. In the same year the occupants had also approached the fair rents tribunal for a ruling on their dwelling. Importantly, the house was described as approximately 25 years old, meaning it was indeed built (along with its neighbour) in about 1890. With five rooms and a kitchen, its rent was fixed at 18s (presumably weekly) for 12 months.
By 1917, number 74 appears to have been occupied by a boxer by the name of ‘Curly’ Parkes, and who “desires to meet anyone in Australia.” Parkes, a native of Hobart, was a Seaman in the Australian Navy, and upon his return enjoyed a boxing career of some note, with at least 43 bouts under his belt, not including those during his service years. In 1923, the whole house with six rooms was advertised for rent on a 3-year lease at £80 per annum. Tenancy patterns after these years suggest that primary lessees continued to rent out rooms to single workers.
There were certainly many children living at number 74 over the years: in 1922 one such was Edward Atkins. Edward was only 18 months old when, according to the Sydney Morning Herald, he was knocked down crossing the street after he had ventured across to a sweet shop on the other side of the road. In 1938 a child named Donald Stuart suffered a nasty injury in the form of a “lacerated wound to the throat” when another child pushed a stick down his throat. The article does not mention whether or not it was deliberate, but Donald seems to have recovered. In 1937, a J Stuart, presumably Donald’s father, complained of the condition of Moore’s lane to the city council. The Stuarts appear to have arrived a little too late however to be our family in the photograph. It’s possible that a cottage for sale at 25 Amos street in Westmead in May of 1936 belonged to the Stuarts: advertised at £365, with enquiries to 74 Crown street, Mr Stuart may have been selling the family home after they moved into the city.
From 1930 to 1935, it appears that several different lodgers occupied number 74 – James Manning, listed as having no occupation, John Stephens, a labourer, as well as Henry Shanley, Robert Henry Bailey, Albert Reginald Craven, and the rather grandly named Frank Robert Leopolde Roche, to name but a few, as well as a Miss M Collins. Most of these men gave their occupation as labourer and seem to have shifted from lodging to lodging in the Darlinghurst area, some moving every year. Some have the kind of names that frustrate researchers of history – James Manning and John Stephens are dead ends, and in this kind of investigation not being able to include or exclude these men from my search means that I’ll probably never identify the figures in the photo with any certainty. Did Manning or Stephens have kids, and if so did they live with them? Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ll ever know.
Image © City of Sydney Archives, Demolition books 1906-1949, NSCA CRS 51/1745.
Others can be traced, and at least excluded. The mystery Miss M Collins lived at no 74 for several years, and appears to have been the primary tenant, renting rooms to the working men who passed through the neighbourhood, and I’ve found no record of little Collins born out of wedlock. Henry Shanley appears to be an older man, living alone and working as a casual labourer. As well as Crown street, he lived at several other addresses on Riley street, and may have passed away in 1942, aged 82, suggesting a hard life with little respite. Robert Henry Bailey lived at the house for several years, but there’s no records to suggest he would have had a young family at this time. Albert Reginald Craven married in August 1934 and moved to another house on Crown street. His marriage was most likely his impetus for leaving these single men’s lodgings, so again, the children are unlikely to have been his. Frank arrived from England in 1907 aged about 27 and moved regularly around Darlinghurst. Again, there’s no record of a wife and kids, and he’s unlikely to have young children by this stage. He may have been the 62-year-old Frank Roche who was acquitted of assaulting Randle Grant in 1937, although the age is slightly off.
There may of course have been many other lodgers over these years who were not recorded, further complicating the mystery of the kids in the photo. The common story of all the men living in this house during the depression years is one of loneliness and hardship: you get a real sense of the difficulties that these older men, living alone, and working well into their old age were facing.
I was disappointed not to be able to find better leads on this story, but that is the nature of the task. While I wasn’t successful in tracking down the children in the photo, in trying to discover the identity of the mystery family from number 74 I inadvertently stumbled across a very different story next door, which will form the basis of the next two posts. Stay tuned for the next installment where I begin to unravel the history of the Kelley family, who called 72 Crown street home for almost 70 years.
