I haven't blogged since January. I felt that posting every week was taking up a lot of my writing time, so I stopped to see if it was, and I was right. But as I quite like blogging, which for me is another excuse for doing a bit of historical research, in future I'll just post less often rather than not do it at all. And perhaps keep my posts a bit shorter. Problem solved.
The other day I saw an article on the internet about an archaeological excavation at 478 George Street in Sydney, opposite the Queen Victoria Building. The excavation was open to the public for five hours on 23 February, but, annoyingly, I saw the article on the 25th. The site is being investigated for occupation from the year 1815 onwards. Apparently it was first occupied by a public house - the Golden Fleece - then a grocer, then successive shops. So, as I missed out on going to see it, I decided to find out what I could without leaving the comfort of my office chair.
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| 478 George Street. Photo by Mick Simmons. |
An advertisment on page 1 of the Gazette, dated 18 July, 1835, refers to a Golden Fleece hotel in Brickfield Hill as a departure point for James Wood's coach service. Brickfield Hill was/is near Paddy's Markets, some distance from the QVB, though still close to George Street. A family history website states that in 1835, William Henry Wood held the licence for the Golden Fleece on George Street. This suggests that the pub, or at least the name, might have moved from the original site.
Three years later, on 28 June 1838, the Gazette states that John Hart was the licensee of the Golden Fleece, George Street, and remained so on 14 February 1839. But by 4 May 1841, the Golden Fleece seems to have moved again to Castlereagh Street, the licence now held by Emanuel Martin. He kept it for at least a year, but by 10 May 1851, the Golden Fleece had relocated to George and King Streets and the licensee was now Robert Rowland.
None of this tells me much about the site at 478 George Street, but I had a good time looking it up. What it does tell me is that for this sort of research you need to be on site and, probably much more relevantly for historians, digging around not in the dirt, but in the archives at the Mitchell Library.
Looking at the picture of the excavation reminds of an archaeological site I saw when I went on a 'ghost tour' of the Rocks a few years ago. I forget exactly where it was - well, it was dark - but the excavation was in the basement of an old building, either on George or Harrington Street. George, I think. It wasn't particular spooky, but it was definitely incredible to stand in the foundations of these tiny little houses and think that people lived and laughed and cried and dreamt there. I almost could feel what was left of them.
It was also vaguely embarrassing trailing in a group around the Rocks on a Thursday night with a rubber rat on a lanyard around my neck getting scoffed at by smartarses outside pubs telling me what a sucker I was. Excuse me? I wasn't the one paying exorbitant tourist prices for a Stella that was only going to end up down the toilet or against the wall in two hours' time. Still, it was a good night.
