Devine street, Erskineville
Image © City of Sydney Archives, Sydney Reference Collection, SRC24643.
I happened across this photograph, taken c.1940s, in the City of Sydney archives. It shows a cute little cottage which survives today, much updated and extended, on Devine Street, Erskineville. In front of the house, five children pose for the photographer. One of the girls bounces a blurred ball, and a little boy holds his school case. While there’s no possible way to confirm that any or all of the children lived in the house behind them, it’s such a happy street scene that I was intrigued, so I decided to see what I could find out about the house and its inhabitants.
The Madgwick family lived in this house from 1934 until sometime after the death of the patriarch, Arthur Ernest Magdwick, in 1951, meaning that they were certainly the inhabitants at the time the photograph was taken. The family had first lived further up the road, in a small terrace at number 27, but moved within a couple of years to the presumably either cheaper or roomier cottage. What struck me as odd about the Madgwicks is that it’s mum Pearl, not dad Arthur, who appears in the street directories of the time as the head of household, and on the electoral role Arthur appears sporadically both at home and at various addresses in the Wollongong area. I was intrigued: what was going on with this family? Were they fighting, or was Arthur perhaps forced to live apart from his family for work?
The story does turn out to be strange, and at times sad. Pearl and Arthur were married in 1913, and had five children: Harold George, born in Newtown in 1913, Stanley James, Arthur Ernest jnr., born in Wollongong in 1925, and two girls, Thelma and Phyllis. Strangely, none of the children’s births appear to have been registered, so the dates above are from other records. The first known record of Stanley also, sadly, appears to have been his last: holidaying with his family near Port Kembla, Stanley (who was either five or nine, depending on newspaper reports) became ill. After a short stay in hospital he was released into the care of his mother, and wandered off to find his siblings who were playing near the creek, despite being forbidden to do so. He was found drowned.
Phyllis and Thelma both grew up and married. Both of their brothers, Harold and Arthur Jnr, enlisted during World War II. The brothers gave their mother as their next of kin, but as these records are still sealed no more is known of their service. Their father, Arthur Snr, had also done his bit as a technician during the first war. Arthur Snr’s return home to Wollongong in February 1919 was announced in the local newspaper, however he was too late to catch the thief who had made off with his wife’s purse from the North Wollongong Ladies’ Surf Shed on New Years Day!
Arthur Snr by all accounts was a very idiosyncratic individual. Arthur had married one Florence Taylor in Wollongong in 1909, but she died before the year was out. He seems to have left for war service soon after he married Pearl, perhaps not even waiting for the birth of his son. The addresses given for Arthur throughout the 1930s and 40s turned out to be those of his parents, with whom he would frequently go and stay. Likewise, his parents’ house was the holiday location of the Madgwicks when poor Stanley drowned in 1937. Apparently these absences were not caused by strife or tension, but according to Pearl, simply Arthur’s inability to spend long periods away from his mother! Kids Harold and Phyllis also spent time in the Wollongong hospital in 1924, suggesting that for many years Pearl humoured Arthur and regularly travelled down the coast with the family, to spend at least some time with her husband. Pearl finally had enough of this behaviour though, and filed for divorce on the grounds of desertion in 1946. At the divorce hearing, Pearl stated that Arthur would leave nightly after meals, often not returning until midnight, to visit his mother, and would spend the weekends with her too. One day he packed his bags to visit his mother, and simply never returned. Pearl was granted her divorce by a very sympathetic judge.
Arthur Madgwick died in 1951. His former wife inserted an obituary “in loving memory” of him in the Sydney papers; the obituary published by his Wollongong family wrote of a touching service, listed his bereaved extended family, and failed to mention his ex-wife, or any of his children. He was buried, of course, in Wollongong.
Their neighbours were also a colourful bunch: everyone from gangsters to local politicians. Notorious standover man for the razor gangs, John Joseph (Jack) Finnie, was a resident of Devine street at the time of his shooting in Mascot in 1933. Jack survived to continue his criminal activities, and was arrested on a charge of attempted murder in 1936 – of the same man he was shot with in 1933. A Mr Towers of no. 19 won the second prize in the state lotteries in 1938 – and presumably quite a few new friends, after his full name and address were published in the Herald. Alderman Nicholas J Martin, also resident in the 1930s, served on Erskineville Council for 16 years.
While searching for interesting information about Devine street in order to create a picture of what it was like to live there, I came across the story of another family, who also lived at no. 27 after the Madgwicks moved down the street. The Bowers are potentially an even stranger bunch, their lives also touched by tragedy. In 1945, their daughter went missing in frightening circumstances. Edna Gwendoleen, aged nine, had taken her younger brother James to “Marrickville Park” (more likely Enmore Park, not too far away) to play with other children. While there, they met a man in uniform who gave all the children threepence, and pushed them on the swings. Edna was obviously taken with the generosity of this kind returned soldier, and asked if he would take her to Manly. They boarded a city bound tram together. Edna did not return home that evening, and a police search was launched. I have searched and searched for further mention of Edna – there’s no marriage or death records, no crime or newspaper reports, no follow up at all. Edna doesn’t appear in any records beyond this point.
If Edna disappeared without a trace, it may well explain the events that followed. Edna’s father Thomas Stewart German Bowers filed for divorce against his wife Lorna in July 1948. He also named in his suit one Anthony Schdrowski, which certainly indicates an accusation of adultery against his wife. Schdrowski’s reputation is really quite amazing. A lifelong petty crook (although by no means the measure of his brother, who was doing hard time in prison), Anthony was a thief and bankrupt who masqueraded as an art dealer and music teacher, conning people with his charm and talents (he was apparently an accomplished musician when he chose to perform.) In May of 1948 a warrant was issued for his arrest on charges of fraudulently obtaining artworks worth well over £1000. A tip off led the authorities to a cave near Jannali on the 27th, where he was found living rough with a woman! Police and the press were delicate enough to ensure that the lady in question was never publicly named, but with Mr Bower’s divorce suit coming only six weeks later, it’s possible that the woman who had followed the charismatic Schdrowski into the domestic bliss of cave living was Lorna Bower. Edna’s disappearance may have been the breaking point for her mother, and for her parent’s marriage.
Returning to the photograph, it occurred to me that the high vantage point suggests that it was taken from a balcony of one of the two-storey terraces across the street, most likely no. 33. Unfortunately, no handy leads jumped out at me regarding who the inhabitants of this house were in 1940. It could well be that, for all my digging around, this may be the straightforward answer to whose children or grandchildren they are. As it stands, the kids can’t be identified, but this photograph has proved to me, and I hope to others, that the most ordinary people can be fantastically interesting, and an average street full of average people can hold some fascinating secrets.
