Saturday, February 28, 2026

French on the Menu in Sydney, 1850–1900.


The Café Restaurant Français run by Timothée Cheval and John Poehlman may have been the first of its kind but it was by no means the only establishment in Sydney in the latter half of the nineteenth century to boast that it was run as a French restaurant or to promote its Frenchness. The sagas of these businesses suggest a hospitality scene where competition was fierce and margins narrow. Optimism and even skill and competence were not sufficient to ensure success in this environment. Partnerships perhaps formed in haste, or on short acquaintance, and establishments started with inadequate funds inevitably led to closures and bankruptcy. Longevity might depend on good luck as much as good management. The following vignettes provide some idea of the vicissitudes proprietors experienced, and glimpses of the society of the time in particular the interactions between members of the French speaking community.

1. Aux Frères Provençaux 

In March 1854 Ernest Budin and François Mellon advertised the opening their business Aux Frères Provençaux Café and Restaurant de Paris at 491 George Street, in the premises which had been the “French Stay Warehouse” run by Budin’s wife, the widow Fanny Protois.[1] They intended the establishment would be kept “in the Parisian style” (Sydney Morning Herald, hereafter SMH, 20 March 1854, p. 2; 25 March 1854, p. 5), offering “dinner always ready at the choice on the bill of fare” and assuring patrons that the “cooking and attendance is at present impossible to be surpassed in Sydney” (Illustrated Sydney News, 29 April 1854, p. 11). In May the café moved to 220 George Street where they could now also offer board and lodging (SMH, 17 May 1854, p. 6). Budin dedicated himself to providing Sydney with “an establishment indispensable to the individual comfort of the inhabitants”.

The details of the arrangement between Budin and Mellon are unknown, but in August 1854 the partnership was dissolved and Budin carried on the business alone, promising the cuisine would be “conducted by French and English cooks of great experience” and “the tout ensemble” would be of a style “hitherto unknown in the colony” (Empire, 5 August 1854, p. 8SMH, 4 September 1854, p. 8).

Again, the exact details of the fate of Aux Frères Provençaux are not entirely clear but what they do reveal is the closeness of the small French speaking community. For example, when M. Massinot, late of his partnership with Timothée Cheval, was looking for an appointment as a butcher he could be contacted through Ernest Budin at 220 George Street (SMH, 16 October 1854, p. 1). 

The proprietors of Aux Frères Provençaux announced in February 1855 that they had “secured the services of a first-rate cook also a glacier both having been attached for years to the most celebrated cafes de Paris” (SMH, 20 February 1855, p. 6). Just who these gentlemen were is not explained, and here the trail becomes somewhat murky. At the quarterly licensing meeting in March 1855 the license for Aux Frères Provençaux transferred from Budin to Mr F. Osmond (Empire, 7 March 1855, p. 7), but at the annual licensing meeting held in April Alphonse Barbier applied for, and was granted the license to Aux Frères Provençaux. (SMH, 17 April 1855, p. 2 applications of publican’s general licenses; granted 27 April see Museums of History NSW, State Archives collection, NRS 14403 [7/1503]; reel 1237). This is the same Alphonse Barbier who had been in business with Alexandre De Mars, Timothée Cheval’s original partner, in Bathurst (Bathurst Free Press, 14 January 1854, p. 4). Barbier may have been the “first rate cook” referred to in the advertising in February.

At around this time Barbier forms a partnership with Guillaume Arzilier who was perhaps the “glacier” who joined Aux Frères Provençaux. Where Osmond fits into the scene is not clear, he may have purchased the premises at 220 George Street from Budin and leased them to Barbier and Co.? Whatever the arrangements “the shop at 220 George Street at present occupied by Barbier and Co. as the Café de Paris” was advertised to let in May 1855 (SMH, 17 May 1855, p. 1).

On 7 June “Barbier and Co. of the Café and restaurant 220 George Street, known as the Frères Provençaux” announce they have taken the premises formerly known as the German Club in O’Connell Street and will open there on 1 July (SMH, 7 June 1855, p. 1). Only ten days later the auction of the furniture and fittings of Aux Frères Provençaux is advertised due to the dissolution of the partnership of Barbier and Co. (SMH, 18 June 1855, p. 6) and the estate of François Barbier and Guillaume Arzilier “restaurant proprietors” was placed under sequestration on 19 July (NSW Government Gazette, 24 July 1855, p. 1968).

Meanwhile, F. Seghers and Co., “the successors to the proprietors” of the Café Restaurant des freres Provenceaux [sic] Hotel restaurant”, advertised that they have indeed moved to the German Club premises at 18 O’Connell Street, and “retained the services of their celebrated chef de cuisine” (Empire, 12 July 1855, p. 1). François Seghers was a Belgian, late of Duprez and Seghers, tailors, and in September the license of Aux Frères Provençaux transfers to him from Alphonse Barbier (Empire, 5 September 1855, p. 3). Who the other partners were in F. Seghers and Co. is not revealed but perhaps Barbier, if not one of the partners, is “the celebrated chef de cuisine”. No further mention is made of the building in O’Connell Street until it is auctioned in 1857 (SMH, 16 January 1857, p. 7). 

To confuse the picture further, in September 1856 Frederick Osmond (to whom Budin transferred his license in 1855) moved on to the Digger’s Arms in Pitt Street (SMH, 12 September 1856, p. 8) where he continued to advertise a menu with a distinctly French flavour – for example, “mutton cutlets, sauce piquante; salmi of teal a la Bigarade; saute of goose aux olives; sweetbread of veal sauce tomate; tripe a la Lyonnaise; kidneys au champagne; sausages aux choux; cold meats: ham, tongues, potted game, partridge aux truffles, pate de fois gras, mayonnaise of lobster” (Bell’s Life in Sydney and Sporting Reviewer, 27 September 1856, p. 3) – suggesting he may have taken the “first rate cook” with him.[2]

2. Alphonse Courvoisier and the Hotel de France

Alphonse Courvoisier, who had worked for Timothée Cheval at the Café Restaurant Français for the previous five years, transferred first to the City Wine Vaults in George Street briefly before taking up the license for the Customs House Hotel in Macquarie Place in 1860 (SMH, 3 December, p. 7, 1859; SMH, 4 January, p. 3; SMH, 4 April 1860, p. 2). He was confident that “his long experience in the culinary art and his practical knowledge of the duties of a restaurant” would stand him in good stead (SMH, 3 December, p. 7, 1859). He promised a bill of fare “that might be expected from a first-class professional cook” (SMH, 7 January 1860, p. 1) which included food to please all comers from hodge-podge, roast beef and grilled chops to fish au gratin, epigramme [sic] of lamb with piquante sauce, calves’ liver a la bourgeoise, and milenaise [sic] of veal (SMH, 20 January 1860, p. 1; 31 January, p. 1). His tenure at the Customs House lasted about 12 months – in April 1861 the auction of the whole of his household furniture was advertised and in September the license was transferred to Francis Byrnes (SMH, 19 April 1861, p. 7; Empire, 4 September 1861, p. 7). With the number of hotels providing food in the city it is unlikely Courvoisier’s talents went to waste for long, and he claimed to have spent some time as chef at the Civil Services Club when, in 1868, he announced the opening of his café restaurant at the Hotel de France “King and George Streets opposite the Joint Stock Bank and nearly opposite the City Bank” (SMH, 9 July 1868, p. 1; Illustrated Sydney News, 11 July 1868, p. 16). This was a significant undertaking. The café downstairs was spacious, well-furnished and “lofty and well ventilated to suit the tropical climate”. The “equally vast proportioned chamber upstairs” housed two billiard tables and the hotel also offered accommodation. Among the “numerous other spacious apartments” was a ladies dining room, staffed by female attendants, described as “a great novelty in New South Wales, and an article long wanted” (Newcastle Chronicle, 25 July 1868, p. 3; SMH, 9 July 1868, p. 1). Courvoisier ran his establishment “in quite the Parisian style” and it soon became a popular venue for meetings of clubs and associations and formal, celebratory dinners.

How prominent Courvoisier was in the French community is not known. His wife, Louise/Louisa, spoke French having been born in the Channel Islands (Dutton, p. 21) but was technically a British subject. How they met and why they came to Australia is also unknown but they were not alone in Sydney. Louise’s brother, Charles Martel, worked as a waiter at Petty’s Hotel, and a sister, Ellen Marie, also lived in Sydney. It is possible Louise and Alphonse were the guardians of Louise’s nephew, Ernest Grasset, the orphaned son of another of her sisters (see death of Ernest, Evening News, 18 June 1875, p. 2).[3]

By 1869 Alphonse felt settled enough in Sydney with his successful business and extended family ties to become naturalized.[4] Subsequent happenings suggest that he may also have had political leanings which could have prompted him to leave France in the first place (rather than the quest for gold, see Dutton p. 21) and he saw little prospect of returning to France. There is also some evidence that he had links to New Caledonia. Reports of shipping departures and arrivals indicate that a Monsieur Courvoisier visited New Caledonia in March 1873 (Australian Town and Country Journal, 1 March 1873, p. 27; SMH, 14 March 1873 p. 4) and again in June (Sydney Mail, 14 June 1873, p. 751) and December (SMH, 11 December 1873, p. 4).

That his establishment in Sydney was both well-known, referred to simply as “Courvoisier’s”, and well-respected is attested by his clientele. Monsieur Pouzolz was on his way to Noumea to take up his position as president of the supreme court and chief justice of New Caledonia, when he died there in June 1873 (SMH, 25 June 1873, p. 4). The following year Courvoisier played host to more notorious guests. Henri Rochefort and his companions were political prisoners, Communards, members and supporters of the Paris Commune, the short-lived revolutionary socialist government which ruled France from 18 March to 28 May 1871. They had been exiled to New Caledonia, and escaped from detention in March 1874, Rochefort himself only having arrived there in December 1873.[5] Rochefort, Pascal Grousset, Francis Jourde, Olivier Pain, Achille Baillière and Bastian Granthille arrived in Newcastle on 27 March and by 1 April Rochefort, Grousset and Baillière were in Sydney, ensconced at Courvoisier’s hotel.

Their arrival was the subject of much interest with commentary both for and against the rebels from both the local community and the French establishment appearing in the newspapers. According to Rochefort’s account of his time in Sydney it was M. Bonnard, the French Consular Agent in Newcastle who recommended Courvoisier’s hotel, but Rochefort also claimed that he had prior knowledge of Courvoisier. Apparently, the tutor of his (Rochefort’s) children had met Courvoisier’s brother in La Rochelle and had mentioned that Alphonse was in Australia (Dutton, p. 21). It is hard to judge how true this statement is, particularly in the light of the barely plausible story Rochefort and friends concocted to explain how they had managed to escape from New Caledonia (see SMH, 30 March 1874, p. 4), but it does lend weight to the idea that Courvoisier sympathised with the radicals. It is Rochefort who also claims that Courvoisier had land holdings in New Caledonia and would in future be regarded as a criminal there for having helped the escapees (Dutton, p. 24). Although in all his interviews with the press Rochefort was careful not to implicate anyone in the planning of the escape, a M. Courvoisier was in New Caledonia in December 1873, leaving Noumea four days before Rochefort arrived which could be taken to suggest a tenuous connection between Courvoisier and the planning of the escape.[6]

Courvoisier’s guests stayed only a few days, leaving Sydney on 11 April (Evening News, 11 April 1874, p. 2) but what of the aftermath? How Courvoisier’s role in offering them accommodation was regarded by French officialdom is not recorded. The French Consul General in Sydney, Eugène Simon, made it clear, in a letter addressed to the public, that the truth of the matter was Rochefort and his friends were convicts, perpetrators of plunder, arson and murder and tried as criminals. They should not be romanticised as political prisoners. Sympathisers might well be well-meaning but they were “manifestly thoughtless” (Evening News, 4 April 1874, p. 2). Although the publicity surrounding Rochefort’s presence may have been good for business by attracting the curious, his association with the “communist” cause may not have been so good for Courvoisier’s personal standing in the French community.

The new year, 1875, began with Courvoisier announcing he was selling up - all the effects, goodwill, lease license, furniture and the four billiard tables of Courvoisier’s Café and Hotel de France were for sale by private contract. The net profits of the establishment were claimed to be £2000 per annum so that “to any person with sufficient means and a knowledge of the business’, this offered “an opportunity of realising a fortune in a few years.” (SMH, 16 February 1875, p. 6). Courvoisier was giving up this lucrative business because he had “realized a competency” and was about to retire and return to France. There is no reason to doubt the veracity of this claim that Courvoisier was in a financial position to retire, similar explanations were often proffered to counteract any suggestion that the business was in trouble and the owner staving off bankruptcy.

In April, Mrs Courvoisier left Sydney for Noumea (SMH, 16 April 1875, p. 6) which raises the suspicion that the Courvoisiers were not necessarily planning to return to France, but just what their connection was to New Caledonia is not known. Whatever their plans they did not come to fruition – François Alphonse Courvoisier died on May 5 (SMH, 6 May 1875, p. 1), he was 50 years old and did not leave a will.[7] Louise was described by Rochefort as “the life and soul of the establishment” (Dutton, p. 21) but now she was faced with the prospect of running the place on her own. She was granted the license for the hotel (SMH, 31 May 1875, p. 2) and applied for, and was granted, administration of her husband’s estate with help from Hippolyte Felix Delarue (watchmaker and jeweller) and her brother Charles Martel. In the meantime, she dealt with the tragic death of her nephew Ernest (see note 2). Louise may have been very competent but she nonetheless took her brother on as a managing partner in the business (SMH, 28 October 1875, p. 2) before deciding to sell out in June 1876 (SMH, 5 June 1876, p. 7). Courvoisier’s Hotel was taken over by Mr George Frazer/Fraser, late of the Scott’s Hotel in Melbourne, who purchased the lease and furniture for £1500 (SMH 15 June 1876, p. 5; 21 June 1876, p. 2).

What happened to Louise’s siblings is not known. Whether Frazier’s £1500 made Louise a wealthy widow or only went to covering her debts is also a mystery. In either case this story does not end happily. It seems that Louise subsequently went back to New Caledonia and was murdered there in “The Great Kanak Revolt” of 1878 (SMH, 25 July 1878, p. 4).[8]

Over 15 years Courvoisier had set a standard for Sydney which would not be matched until Paris House opened in 1890. His “his long experience in the culinary art and his practical knowledge of the duties of a restaurant” had stood him in good stead. The restaurant dining public had responded positively to his professionalism and appreciated the sophisticated ambience, disciplined service, and good food at the Hotel de France. But not all successful eating establishments boasting French flair were restaurants for the wealthy and well-connected or big hotels with lavish dining rooms. One of the longest running businesses with French credentials in Sydney in the nineteenth century was A La Flore Australienne.

3. Henri de Josselin and A La Flore Australienne

A La Flore Australienne opened in August 1861 as a “French confectionery and pastry establishment” which also sold wines and spirits imported from Europe. The business was originally a partnership between Henri de Josselin and Louis Saclier. Louis Saclier had previously been in business as a house decorator selling imported wallpaper and more recently had set himself up as an agent for French wines and spirits.[9] Henri de Josselin had been in the colony since 1855.[10] A la Flore Australienne promised an entirely new establishment “without rival in Sydney or even Australia” providing French confectionery and pastry, along with an unrivalled stock of liqueurs, wines and spirits imported from Europe. Advertising made a point of the accommodation provided for “ladies requiring lunch or refreshments” in a room “furnished with elegance” where they were assured of “every convenience and politeness” (SMH, 30 July 1861, p. 1; 24 August 1861, p. 5).

The business faltered before the end of the year and the partnership was dissolved, effective 1 January 1862 with Henri de Josselin continuing the business alone (SMH, 8 January 1862, p. 1; 12 February 1862, p. 1). A La Flore Australienne continued to sell imported confectionery, to supply lunches, cater for functions, picnics, and weddings, and provide seasonal delicacies along with iced drinks, jellies, and ice cream. By 1867 de Josselin could boast he now had “one of the largest, coolest, best and most comfortable dining rooms in New South Wales” where he paid strict attention to politeness and cleanliness, coupled with moderate charges and cuisine arrangements second to none (SMH, 3 April 1867, p. 8). For all his claim de Jossselin’s business was probably only modest but well enough known and patronised to prosper, at least until the early 1870s. Early in 1872 he downsized, relinquishing his lease on 319 George Street, and selling off household furniture, ivory handled cutlery, restaurant tables and chairs, bed steads, bedding and a “magnificent French billiard table” to concentrate his operations at the adjoining 317 George Street (SMH, 29 April 1872, p. 7). In June 1873 he advertised A la Flore Australienne for sale (SMH, 7 June 1873, p. 3) and presumably failing to attract a favourable buyer then moved to 307 George Street (SMH, May 13 1874, p. 10).

Throughout 1875 and 1876 he continued to advertise his private dining and ladies’ rooms, his French confectionery and pastry of all kinds and the availability of wines and spirits, for both wholesale and retail customers. In 1877 he did not renew the lease for 307 George Street (SMH, 30 April 1877, p. 1) and moved again this time to 9 Bond Street where he stayed until August 1878 (SMH, 15 August 1878, p. 12) when the address for A La Flore Australienne changed again to 12 Charlotte Place (SMH, 26 September 1878, p. 1). Here he claimed to have made extensive alterations to provide large airy luncheon rooms and an elegant ladies’ room, suitable for ladies and families, “not to be equalled in the colony” (SMH, 2 October 1878, p. 2; 9 November 1878, p. 15).

Perhaps de Josselin had over capitalised on his new premises or maybe business was falling off, but in January 1880 he was declared insolvent (NSW Gov. Gaz., 9 January 1880, p. 127). Bankruptcy was a common fate for restaurateurs and caterers but most seemed to bounce back and de Josselin was no exception. By November A La Flore Australienne was back in business at 409 George Street (SMH, 12 November 1880, p. 12). His advertising rarely specified items he offered on the menu, but it would appear de Josselin had, over his nearly twenty years in business, established a reputation for his meat pies and “celebrated veal and ham pates of old time renown” which he now made available on Wednesday and Saturday (SMH, 11 January 1881, p. 1).

Henri de Josselin had had a good run, but he was now 65 and no doubt ready to retire. In May the newspapers carried advertisements for the sale by auction of the equipment associated with A La Flore Australienne – the china, earthenware, glassware, furniture, and copper moulds, the ice cream machine, the coffee fountain, and the remaining candid fruits, syrups, and jams. Henri and his wife Rosa then rented Wascoe House, in what is today Blaxland in the lower Blue Mountains, from William Deane where they provided accommodation for gentlemen and families seeking a change of air in this “charming mountain retreat”, promising moderate terms and “a good table” (SMH, 20 August 1881, p. 16 and 1 October 1881, p. 18; 22 December 1882, p. 10).[11] But Henri’s time enjoying the fresh air of the mountains did not last long. Henri Etienne de Josselin, native of “Mentzac, Department de la Haute Vienne”, died suddenly on 22 May 1883 (SMH, 26 May 1883, p. 1).

 



[1] Budin claimed, on his application for naturalisation, to have arrived in Australia via Gypsy Queen in 1852 (Museums of History NSW, State Archives Collection, Naturalization Index 1834–1903 [4/1200], reel no. 129, p. 518). Other evidence suggests he may have arrived in January 1853 (SMH, 8 January 1853, p. 4) on a boat from the “south seas” sponsored by Didier Joubert. Louis Victor Protois died in January 1852 (Shipping Gazette, 10 January 1852, p. 15). Budin and Fanny Protois were married by May 1853 (see SMH, 21 May 1853, p. 5)

[2] Alphonse Barbier tried his luck in his own business again in Melbourne (Argus, 21 November 1857, p. 5), but was again unsuccessful (The Age, 18 June 1858, p.2). He died in Melbourne in 1886 (Australasian, 20 March, 1886, p. 3). François Seghers returned to tailoring (SMH, 1 January 1862, p. 6).

[3] Ernest’s death was due to unintentional poisoning with carbolic acid. At the trial it was noted that he was entitled to property under Alphonse’s will, but this was not the case. François Alphonse Courvoisier died intestate, Museums of History NSW, State Archives Collection, NRS-13660-2-[17/1779] series 2, Probate Packets. Ernest, the son of Auguste Theodore Grasset and Elizabeth Martel/Mortel, who married in Sydney in 1857, was born in Forbes in 1865. Auguste mined for gold in Forbes and died there in 1866. When Elizabeth died has not been established. Ellen Martel/Martet married Edmund E. Marie in Sydney in 1866. Edmund’s death has not been established.

[4] Museums of History NSW, State Archives Collection, Naturalization Index 1843–1903, [4/1202],reel no. 130, p. 96.

[5] For Rochefort and the Communards in Sydney, see https://www.isfar.org.au/bio/rochefort-henri-1831-1913/ and K. R. Dutton, “Henri Rochefort and his companions in Australia.” Explorations 32 (June 2002), pp. 3–39, https://www.isfar.org.au/article/32-1/. For Rochefort ‘s arrival in Noumea see Empire, 4 February 1874, p. 3.

[6] Courvoisier left Noumea on 4 December (SMH, 11 December 1873, p. 4), Rochefort arrived on 8 December (Empire, 4 February 1874, p. 3).

[7] Travel to and from Noumea by steamer took approximately seven days. Madame Courvoisier returned to Sydney on 3 May, just in time for her husband’s death (Sydney Mail and New South Wales Advertiser, 8 May 1875, p. 590).

[9] For Saclier see SMH, 9 April 1855, p. 6; Museums of History NSW, State Archives Collection, NRS-13654-1-[2/8917]-3704; agent for French wines and spirits Empire, 27 May 1859, p. 8.

[10] Henri de Josselin arrived as an unassisted immigrant on the Mercedes, birthplace Bordeaux.

[11] Henri de Josselin married Rosa Ann Wilson in 1862. Wascoe House was originally the Pilgrim Inn, situated at what was then Wascoe Junction. The remains are in the McDonald’s car park at Blaxland. The main property consisted of 13 rooms with an additional cottage of 5 rooms, situated on 56 acres with garden and orchard. Trains stopped at Wascoe’s platform on every trip. Advertised for sale SMH, 28 April 1873, p. 2, and William Deane offered it to let fully furnished SMH, 23 March 1881p. 14.

Monday, January 26, 2026

The Cafe Restaurant Français. Part 1: Timothée Cheval


Monsieur Timothée/Timothie Louis Benoît Cheval, and his family, wife Honorine and son Timothée Edouard, arrived in Sydney in April 1853 (Empire, 14 April 1853).[1] Before the end of May, Cheval, and his travelling companion Captain Alexandre de Mars, had set up a business grandly called the Café Restaurant Français at 521 George Street, near the corner of Hunter Street in premises previously occupied by Cohen and Co., auctioneers (Sydney Morning Herald, hereafter SMH, 20 May 1853, p. 1; SMH, 15 March 1887, p. 8). What either Cheval or de Mars knew about running a restaurant, and why they had chosen to come to Sydney is unrecorded but possibly they, like many others, were lured by the promise of opportunities associated with the discovery of gold in the colony.[2] Their café/restaurant went on to be the first sustained French presence in the Sydney dining scene.

De Mars was granted a publican’s license for the premises (SMH, 21 May 1853, p. 3) and the Café Restaurant Français offered patrons oysters, tea, coffee, chocolate, soups, breakfasts, luncheons, dinners (all meals served “a la Parisienne”), French ice creams and pastries, in addition to taking in weekly and monthly boarders. How well Cheval and de Mars knew one another is another unknown but their partnership did not last long. By July 1853 they had parted company (SMH, 13 July 1853, p. 5). Alexandre de Mars subsequently spent a short period as the publican at Parker’s Family Hotel (SMH, 7 September 1853, p. 2; 10 December 1853, p. 9) before joining another Frenchman, Alphonse Barbier, at the London Hotel and French Café in Bathurst (Bathurst Free Press and Mining Journal, 14 January 1854, p. 4). This proved to be another short-lived arrangement (Bathurst Free Press and Mining Journal, 20 May 1854, p. 3). What happened to de Mars subsequently is unknown.

Meanwhile Timothée Cheval took on the license for the Café Restaurant Français and lost no time in opening his “new rooms” designed for “the accommodation of those who wish to combine comfort and economy with good cuisine” (SMH, 29 July 1853, p. 3; Empire, 9 September 1853, p. 3). He advertised breakfast from 9 to 12 consisting of one dish of meat or fish with bread and potatoes, and one cup of French coffee for 1s 9d, while lunch, of one bowl of soup, two dishes of meat or fish, one dish of vegetables and bread was available from 12 until 3 for 2s 6d.


The interior of the Café Restaurant Français, Illustrated Sydney News, 11 February 1854, p. 1. 



By February 1854 Cheval had formed another partnership, this time with John Poehlman (or Poehlmann), and had expanded by taking on the adjoining premises so that he now operated a French café and an adjacent restaurant. The establishment offered a bit of everything. In a city with hotels on every corner offering food and accommodation it was hard to establish a point of difference. Paragraphs published in the leading newspapers at the beginning of 1854 (with details no doubt provided by Cheval) emphasised the Frenchness of the restaurant, an “attractive temple to the genius of French cookery” where diners could expect the best of French and English cookery, “a variety of dishes such as cannot be obtained elsewhere in Sydney”, and attendants “who speak all the European languages” (Illustrated Sydney News, 11 February 1854, p. 2; Empire, 23 February, p. 3). The café promised the availability of café noir and café au lait, access to a billiard table, dominoes, chess draughts, the latest newspapers and writing materials, and a bar serving “the various kinds of American drinks now so much in vogue”. These offerings hint at the need to cater for a more diverse and perhaps more transient clientele now that Sydney was a point of transit for gold prospectors. It was American gold seekers who brought with them the fashion for American drinks – sherry cobbler, mint julep, brandy smash and the like, made all the more popular by the availability of iceIn October of 1855 Cheval and Poehlman announced they had ice available (SMH, 6 October 1855, p. 8) and could supply all parts of the city (SMH, 12 February 1856, p. 4. See also Goulburn Herald, 3 February 1855, p. 2).

Cheval appears to have been ambitious to take advantage of whatever opportunities trading in food and beverages might offer. In August of 1854 he opened the Australian Larder in Pitt Street, a “Charcuterie et Boucherie Française”, a “superior cook’s shop where all kinds of cooked meats may be purchased, ready for use” (SMH, 1 August 1854, p. 8). In this, another short-lived venture, he was aided by M. Massinot, a butcher who was also employed at the Café Français (see also SMH, 16 October 1854, p. 1). Why this endeavour failed is not clear, perhaps Sydney was not ready for boudins and andouilles, but by October Cheval and Massinot had also parted company.

Cheval then turned the former charcuterie into the Maison D’Orée “a restaurant and supper room for the refreshment of gentlemen leaving the Victoria Theatre” (which was opposite) where he intended to introduce the “elegance and refinements” of the Parisian establishment of the same name, and provide a bill of fare both “recherche and sumptuous” (Empire, 4 November 1854, p. 1). Unfortunately, he had omitted to apply for a publican’s license and was subsequently fined having been found with a stash of alcohol on the premises (SMH, 12 January 1855, p. 4). Things at the Maison D’Orée went from bad to worse. In October Cheval was in court again, fined for knowingly allowing the Maison D’Orée to operate as the resort of prostitutes which was “a great nuisance to the neighbourhood” (SM, 25 October 1855, p. 2). Cheval’s defence was that he was only the manager for the owner, one Pierre Le Pouce/Lepouce/Lepousse, but the judge was not impressed by the argument. 

The premises were then transformed into the “Patisserie Parissienne”. The mysterious M. Lepouce advised the public that the restaurant connected to the confectioner’s shop would be supplied “with the same variety of dishes as the French Restaurant, in George Street” (Empire, 6 March 1856, p. 1). Cheval continued to get into trouble as a result of his dealings in Pitt Street – for selling alcohol illegally (Empire, 15 April 1856, p. 4), for non-payment of wages (Bell’s Life in Sydney, 3 May 1856, p. 2; SMH, 24 July, 1856 p. 2), for trading on a Sunday (SMH, 24 April, 1857 p. 3), for keeping his house open at an illegal hour (Empire, 20 June 1857, p. 4; SMH, 18 July 1857, p. 6) and finally for keeping premises open for the entertainment of “promiscuous persons” after midnight (SMH, 20 February 1858, p. 4). Cheval eventually severed all connection with the “supper rooms” in Pitt Street in June 1858 (Empire, 3 June 1858, p. 1).

Meanwhile John Poehlman was now the licensee of the Café Français (Empire, 16 December, 1854, p. 6) and he and Cheval kept that business ticking over. In March of 1855 they took on a Mr William Dunkel who, it was claimed, had “trained in the palace of King Louis Phillippe where he remained until 24 February 1848, when the revolution broke out. He then worked for the English Ambassador to the court of Persia and then to London as chef cook at Maurigg’s first-class hotel Regent Street” (The People’s Advocate, 31 March 1855, p. 5; see also Dunkel seeking employment SMH, 5 March 1855, p. 1). How long Dunkel remained at the Café Français is not recorded but the establishment appears to have flourished. 

Englishman Frank Fowler recorded his experience of the Café Français when he visited:

The Café Français … is much frequented by the young swells and sprigs of the city. They hold here a chess club, a billiard club and a stewed-kidney club. Little marble tables, files of “Punch” and the “Times”, dominoes, sherry-cobblers, strawberry ices, and entertaining hostess, and a big, bloused, lubberly, inoffensive host, are the noticeable parts of the café left on my recollection. They serve eight hundred dinners a day at this house, for which they pay a yearly rent of 2400 pounds.[3]

A review of Fowler’s Southern Lights and Shadows in Freeman’s Journal, described it as “a very ill-woven tissue … of exaggerations” (2 April 1859, p. 2). Mr Cheval was not apparently ‘lubberly” but “active and affable”, he never paid as much as 2400 pounds rent and served around 250 meals a day rather than 800. Similarly, the establishment was not frequented by “swells and sprigs” of which there were none in Sydney. 

Cheval styled himself the proprietor of the Restaurant Café Français (Empire, 21 September 1857, p. 1) but the details of his arrangement with Poehlman are unclear. Who the “entertaining hostess” was and whether the “big, bloused, lubberly, inoffensive host” was Poehlman, is open to speculation. Even if Fowler’s figures are not to be believed he did single out the Café Français as the premier venue in the city but whether its success was due to Poehlman’s steady management or Cheval’s entrepreneurship and Gallic charm is another unknown.

What precipitated Cheval’s departure from the business in Pitt Street was not stated but shortly afterwards the partnership with Poehlman was dissolved (partnership dissolved 1 July 1858, NSW Government Gazette, 23 July 1858, p. 1164) and Poehlman advertised he was selling the license for the Café Français (SMH, 15 July 1858, p. 6). In September Poehlman was granted a license for Poehlman’s Hotel in George Street, opposite the Bank of NSW. At the same licensing meeting Hippolyte J. Cheval, Timothée’s younger brother, who had arrived in February 1857 (Empire, 16 February 1857, p. 4) was granted the license for the Britannia Arms (SMH, 15 September 1858, p. 3). Again, the trail is somewhat murky but it seems the license of the Britannia Arms may have been transferred to the restaurant in George Street, and certainly Hippolyte held the license for the Café Français in 1859.

Poehlman’s move to go into business independently, on the opposite side of George Street and only a short distance from the Café Français, was the beginning of a long legal battle between him and Timothée Cheval. Cheval first sought an injunction to restrain Poehlman from continuing in business on the grounds that Poehlman’s setting up of a similar business was a breach of the terms of the dissolution of their partnership, requiring that Poehlman not carry on any such business as he had carried on with Cheval. The injunction was refused on the grounds that the similarity between Poehlman’s enterprise and Cheval’s had not been established (SMH, 25 December 1858, p. 4).

Cheval then brought a case against Poehlman for operating illegally, allowing internal communication between his licensed premises and an adjoining business. Originally found in Cheval’s favour, this decision was subsequently reversed after the legislation which the charge rested on was itself called into question. (SMH, 23 March 1859, p. 3; SMH, 7 April 1859, p. 4; Freeman’s Journal, 23 April 1859, p. 3) 

The satirical journal, Bell’s Life in Sydney and Sporting Reviewer, made light of the proceedings intimating that Cheval had become Poehlman’s “implacable foe” because the latter had dared to open rival premises in close proximity to the Café Français (26 March 1859, p. 3). Cheval defended himself – it was not jealousy that had motivated him but his belief that Poehlman had committed a breach of faith. Cheval claimed he had paid Poehlman 600 pounds on the understanding that he “would not open, either in George St or Pitt St within a period of eighteen months an establishment that resembled in any way the Café and Restaurant Français” and accused Poehlman of opening “an exact copy of the Café Français”. (SMH, 5 April 1859, p. 8). Poehlman responded to Cheval’s rejoinder denying any breach of faith. He claimed the 600 pounds was less than half the value of the “furniture and effects” in which the pair had an equal interest. He also gave the lie to the idea that the partnership had been dissolved amicably:

Mr Cheval is the last person who should complain of [a breach of faith] – for after we had entered into partnership he took a lease on the premises and subsequently renewed it in his own name alone, and so acquired an advantage over me which eventually enabled him to force me to a dissolution (SMH, 6 April 1859, p.2).

Next Cheval tried to bring a case against Poehlman for breach of the Licensing Act (having insufficient accommodation available), which was dismissed on a technicality (SMH, 16 April, 1859, p. 5).

But Cheval was not done with the charge of breach of covenant. In August 1859 the pair were in court again, Cheval demanding 1000 pounds damages from Poehlman. The details of the covenant were that Poehlman would not within the period of eighteen months of the dissolution of their partnership, so long as Cheval carried on his business on the premises they had shared, “conduct or assist as manager, waiter or servant for any person or persons or establish or set up, take, or carry on, on his own account either alone or jointly with any other person or persons, or take any share or interest in any café or restaurant in George Street or Pitt Street”. Provided that nothing in the covenant should prevent Poehlman from keeping any inn, public-house or hotel with a table d’hote for lunch or dinner "after the manner in which Petty’s Hotel and the Metropolitan Hotel were carried on" at the time of the execution of the deed. (Empire, 23 August 1859, p. 5).

The case was reported in detail. Once it was accepted that Cheval continued to run the Café Français, even though the license was in his brother’s name, proving the charge hinged on determining to what extent the two business were the same. A café was defined as “a place where a person could go in for refreshment – as well coffee and tea as stronger drinks – at any hour of the day”. A restaurant was described as “a place where a person could at any time of the day order what refreshment (in the nature of food) he might need, from a list to which the price of each article was affixed, paying for what he had”. The practice at a restaurant differed from that at places like Petty’s Hotel and the Metropolitan, where “the meals were served at fixed hours, at a table d’hote, and each person who partook paid a fixed price for each meal. Meals were not served at any other times except under very peculiar circumstances” (SMH, 23 August 1859, p. 8). These definitions were well understood in the Sydney dining scene and had been articulated as early as 1843 when Mr Sparke advertised the new arrangements at the Royal Hotel (SMH, 14 March 1843, p. 2) 

The character of Poehlman’s business was dissected. He had kept a table d’hote but had also occasionally supplied coffee. Although coffee was generally only served to persons who had eaten lunch or dinner there and was thus part of the meal itself, coffee had been supplied at other times. Service of coffee had also been refused at times. Poehlman admitted food had sometimes been supplied later than the hours fixed for meals, but the menu was that used at the table d’hote and the charge had been fixed.

According to the newspaper reports “there was other evidence as to the fittings of the respective houses, and as to the mode of conducting business in each, for the purpose of showing that Poehlmann’s [sic] management resembled that of Cheval: but none of the evidence was of a very distinct or positive character, except as to the general supply at both places of American drinks and the fitting up of the front room with a number of small tables.”

Cheval claimed that his takings had declined by an average of 10 pounds per day since Poehlman had opened his rival premises. The court must have been impressed by the arguments over the finer details of café/restaurant versus table d’hote and awarded Cheval 200 pounds damages, significantly less than he thought he was entitled to. The crucial difference would appear to have been the choice available in a restaurant and the different prices for menu items, but the distinctions could easily be blurred. Most hotels in Sydney at the time professed to serve a table d'hote but also to have food available at all times for all comers presumably, like Poehlman, serving the table d’hote menu at a fixed price. Cheval’s determination to pursue the case, and the sums of money involved, indicate that the success of the Café Français owed much to the fact that it operated as a restaurant providing customers with not just convenience but, most importantly, choice. 

Poehlman was not happy with the result but an attempt to have the verdict overturned was unsuccessful (SMH, 10 August 1860, p. 4; Empire, 10 August 1860, p. 8). He continued in business in George Street at Central House/Central Café/Poehlman’s Hotel until March of 1862 (SMH, 21 March 1862, p. 11) when he moved to “more commodious premises close to the Herald and Empire offices” in Pitt Street (Empire, 3 July 1862, p. 1) and Central House passed into the hands of a Mr Scrivener. This enterprise, Poehlman’s Hotel, lasted just shy of 12 months (Empire, 3 July 1862, p. 1) and John Poehlman disappears from the record.

Running a successful restaurant required a well-run kitchen, and the Café Français had benefitted from the expertise of Alphonse Courvoisier and “his practical knowledge of the duties of a restaurant” almost since its inception (SMH, 3 December, p. 7, 1859). In January 1860 Courvoisier also set himself up as a rival to Cheval, advertising the Restaurant Français at the Custom’s House Hotel in Macquarie Place (SMH, 31 January 1860, p. 1). Perhaps Courvoisier was aware that changes were ahead since, despite having proved his case against Poehlman, Timothée Cheval’s future plans did not include the Café Restaurant Français.

In November 1861 he was granted 1500 hectares of land in New Caledonia.[4] What prompted Cheval’s interest in New Caledonia is unknown. Why he should contemplate leaving behind a successful, lucrative business and swap the comforts of Sydney for the privations of the new French colony, where the civil European population amounted to only 432 persons in January 1860, is hard to fathom.[5] The terms of Cheval’s land allocation required that he bring with him, at his own expense, European settlers, farming equipment and livestock making it an expensive undertaking, and not one to be entered into quickly or half-heartedly.[6] Finance was presumably no problem but finding Europeans to join him in the new venture may have been more difficult if not for family connections.

Hippolyte married Ellen O’Donoghue (O’Donohue) from County Clare in 1861.[7] In April 1862 her family - parents, James and Mary, and siblings John, Maria, Ann and Timothy - arrived in Sydney as assisted immigrants, sponsored by Timothée Cheval (Freeman’s Journal, 12 April 1862, p. 7). In June 1862, Timothée Cheval, the O’Donoghues, and James Daly, his wife Honora (the sister of Mrs O’Donoghue) and their four children, left Sydney on the Gazelle for New Caledonia (SMH, 25 June 1862, p. 4).[8] The Sydney Morning Herald of 14 January 1863 (p. 5) recorded the visit of the recently arrived Governor of New Caledonia, Guillain, to the holdings of Cheval, James Paddon, and Didier Joubert.[9]

Once established on his land “dans la plaine de la Tontouta” Timothée Cheval wound up his business affairs in Sydney (SMH, 20 May 1864, p. 6; NSW Government Gazette, 25 May 1864, p. 1277).[10] Madame Honorine Cheval wanted nothing to do with the New Caledonia venture and returned to France (Empire, 27 April 1864, p. 4). Hippolyte and Ellen O’Donoghue remained in Sydney with their two young daughters until they too sailed for New Caledonia in 1864.[11] The Café Français was taken over by a Mr. J. F. Maloney and started on its own new life (SMH, 21 September 1865, p. 10).

Hélène Laine, a grand-daughter of Hippolyte Cheval, recounts that the once in New Caledonia the settlers encountered a number of setbacks in their attempts to grow corn and coffee and to farm cattle – plagues of locusts and floods and unsuitable soil hampered their enterprise. At some stage, possibly around the time Hippolyte arrived, the group split, with the Donoghues and Hippolyte taking up land at Saint-Vincent on the Tamoa river and the Dalys moving to Naniouni. Laine is coy about what precipitated the breakup suggesting that the difficulties they encountered were only part of the cause, there being “other unhappy circumstances” which led to the breach. She has Timothée battling on until “merciful death brings to an end his fruitless labours” (p. 60). But Timothée was not released from his labouring until 1881 by which time he had fathered five children with Louise Tatati/Tatate.[12] Perhaps his relationship with a local indigenous woman almost forty years his junior was the cause of some dissention within the colonists. Laine makes no mention of this liaison but does note that Timothée’s miserable existence was relieved by the arrival of his son, Timothée Edouard, who had been taken back to France by his mother. Timothée junior remained in New Caledonia after his father’s death.

Hippolyte was appointed to the head of the Customs Office in 1871 and the family moved to Nouméa. He and Ellen had thirteen children in all and their descendants remain proud of their connection to “une des plus anciennes familles de colons libres de Nouvelle-Calédonie”.[13]

Meanwhile at the Café Restaurant Français in George Street Sydney ……….



[1] Timothée Cheval was born in Paris in 1814. He married Honorine Romain Barré in Paris in 1846. Details of Cheval’s life and family are derived from a number of sources: the family tree compiled by Hélène Derrien-Cassat available at https://gw.geneanet.org/lion4?lang=en&pz=louis+joseph+timothee&nz=cheval&p=thimothee+louis+benoit&n=cheval; Patrick O’Reilly, Calédoniens: Répertoire bio-bibliographique de la Nouvelle-Caledonie (Publications de la Société des Océanists, no. 3, Musée de L’Homme, Paris, 1953); Hélène Laine, Pioneer Days in New Caledonia: A Story of Pacific Island Settlement, ed. and trans. H.E.L. Priday (Nouméa: Imprimeries Réunies, 1942).

[2] Laine and O’Reilly both claim Timothée and Hippolyte arrived in Australia together and came with 50 thousand francs. Laine describes the building in George Street having “a ground floor and two stories” with the restaurant on the ground floor and accommodation for Timothée and family on the first floor, and for Hippolyte on the floor above.

[3] Fowler was in Sydney 1855-1857, Southern Lights and Shadows (London: Sampson, Low, & Co., 1859), p. 14.

[4] According to Laine, Cheval was among the first to apply for and obtain concessions and was granted 1500 hectares on Tontouta Plain, 40 miles from Port-de-France (Nouméa), by imperial decree of Napoleon III dated 28 November 1861.

[5] Patrick O’Reilly. “Chronologie de la Nouvelle-Calédoniens, 1774–1903”, Journal de la Sociète des Océanistes 9 (1953): pp. 25–53. Laine gives the European civilian population of New Caledonia at 1060 in 1866, rising to 1300 in 1869 (p. 31).

[6] The exact requirements were 6 to 8 European colonists, 11 horned cattle, 16 horses and a stallion, and that he bring equipment to clear 50 hectares. In all the colonists on the Gazelle brought with them 13 horses, 92 oxen and 46 cases of agricultural equipment (O’Reilly,Calédoniens). Timothée Cheval was granted final title in June 1866 (SMH 28 July 1866, p. 6.)

[7] Ellen and her sister Maggie had arrived in 1856. According to Laine they arrived with their aunt Honora MacMahon, their mother Mary’s sister, but I have been unable to substantiate this. The brother of Mary and Honora, Patrick MacMahon was already successfully established in Sydney (The Catholic Press, 10 March 1910, p. 23). 

[8] Honora MacMahon married James Daly in Sydney in 1857. For the Dalys see Helen Litton “The Dalys of New Caledonia”, History Ireland,https://historyireland.com/the-dalys-of-new-caledonia/ Laine also has Annie Maloney, niece of James and Mary O’Donoghue, as a member of the party. The Daly children were John, Patrick, Michael and Honora. O’Reilly includes other colonists: Hofford, O’Connel, Patrick Munnen, E. MacMahon, J. Hogus, Ralph and Mme Unger and her two children. The Sydney papers list only the Dalys, the O’Donoghues, Mrs Unger and her two sons, a Miss Delany (who may be Annie Maloney?), Captain Stafford, Cheval and “3 in steerage”. 

[9] For Paddon see https://www.isfar.org.au/bio/paddon-james-1811-1861/; for Joubert see Karin Speedy, “Toppling Joubert,” Shima 40, no. 2 (2020): pp. 186–213, https://www.shimajournal.org/issues/v14n2/13.-Speedy-Shima-v14n2.pdf.

[10] Timothée Cheval’s land is where the airport at Tontouta is situated today.

[11] Hippolyte and Ellen had two daughters born 1862 and 1863. O’Reilly has them arriving in New Caledonia in June 1864 (Calédoniens).

[12] The family tree compiled by Hélène Derrien-Cassat lists Louis Benoît Tatati dit Cheval born 1869, Clémence born 1874, Jules born 1875, Laure born 1878, and Louis born 1881. The “dit Cheval” indicates that the family used the name Cheval or were known as Cheval, but suggests that Timothée and Louise Tatati/Tatate were not formally married, given that Timothée was still married to Honorine.

[13] Hippolyte died in 1896, Ellen in 1928. See “Histoires d’Histoire: Cheval, première famille de colons libres” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=436YZg0LsF4

Thursday, July 31, 2025

French on the menu in Sydney before 1850.

 James Larra, the publican at the Freemason’s Arms in Parramatta was not only one of the first to receive a liquor license in the colony, he was possibly also the first to offer his customers French hospitality. In 1802 he was host to the French scientific expedition led by the naturalist François Péron, who recorded that during their six days at Parramatta his party ‘were constantly served with an elegance and even with a luxury that we would never have believed could exist on these shores, if we had not been the object of it.’ The French visitors were served the best wines of Madeira, Xérès (sherry), Porto, Cape Town and Bordeaux. The food was presented on good plates, the glasses were crystal, and everything was served in the French style, made all the easier because Larra (whom Péron described as ‘un Juif François’) had ‘un excellent cuisinier de Paris’ and two other young French men among his assigned servants (Péron, Voyage de Découvertes aux Terres Australes … sur les Corvettes le Géographe, le Naturaliste et la Goélette le Casuarina, pendant les Années 1800, 1801, 1802, 1803 et 1804Paris: Arthus Bertrand, 1807, pp. 408, 409).

 Larra would have had few opportunities to entertain his countrymen. It has been estimated that even by the middle of the nineteenth century there may have only been three hundred French in Sydney (Ivan Barko, ‘The French in Sydney’, Sydney Journal 1 (2), 2008). French fare then was not advertised to lure the French but as a marker of refinement, fashionability, sophistication, of professionalism and good taste. Those who traded on their Frenchness did so to distance themselves from the run-of-the-mill, the predictable and the crass.

 

A colourful character, François Girard was sentenced for stealing and transported for seven years in 1820. He began his colonial career as a dancing master and fencing instructor and subsequently became best known as a baker (winning a contract to supply bread to the government, which was not without some controversy), and for his flour mill and adjacent wharf (constructed on the harbour in Cockle Bay at the bottom of Napoleon Street), among a number of entrepreneurial activities.* 

 

In September 1826 Girard expanded his bakery business (which operated out of his home at 16 Hunter Street) by opening what was advertised a ‘a COFFEE ROOM á la Françoise’ where he would provide ‘pastry and refreshments of any kind’, including coffee at any hour of the day, confits, jellies, sweet wines and fruits in season. The gentry were informed that he would ‘spare no pains to render his coffee room a place of fashionable resort’ (Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (hereafter SG), 13 September 1826, p. 2 and advertising p. 1). There is no record of what experience, if any, Girard had of either baking or running a coffee room in the French fashion. Nor is it clear how successful this operation was but Girard seems to have been confident that the residents of Sydney were ready for something more sophisticated than they had experienced hitherto. In early 1828 he took over the license of the Sydney Arms Hotel in George Street.

 

The Sydney Hotel/Sydney Arms Hotel dated from 1820 when a Mr Stillwell converted the ‘extensive and commodious premises’ formerly the town residence of Sir John Jamison, into a hotel and coffee house, where he provided accommodation, breakfasts, dinners and suppers (SG, 11 March 1820, p. 1). The building was located on the corner of George Street and Charlotte Place, approximately at the intersection of George Street and Grosvenor Street today. Only seven months later the premises were available for lease and subsequently occupied by the Principal Superintendent of Police.

 

The building did not operate as a hotel again until ‘revived’ by William Cummings in 1822 and opened as ‘a respectable Coffee house Tavern and Hotel’ (SG, 7 October 1820, p. 2; SG, 6 December 1822, p. 2). Cummings had only recently arrived in the colony, but he brought with him ‘several years experience’ which appear to have stood him in good stead. The Sydney Hotel was well-regarded and allowed Cummings to make a ‘respectable and honest subsistence’ until he decided to move to larger premises in Macquarie Place (SG, 19 November 1827, p. 1, Australian, 15 February 1828, p. 2).

 

When Girard took over, the Australian reported that he was fitting up the Sydney Hotel as a French café and restaurant, ‘desirous of modelling his house in a style which will be nouvelle to the Colony – somewhat after the fashion of a comfortable Parisian “Restaurateur”’ (Australian, 19 December 1827, p. 2; 15 February 1828, p. 2). Just what changes, if any, were made to the hotel is not recorded but Girard planned to ‘dispense “Café”, and “liqueurs” and the like; with certain literary ephemerals of the day’ in what was described as ‘the airy and spacious room at the entrance, on the left’. The newspapers do not report to what extent Girard’s plans were realised

 

Cummings had explained that one reason for his abandonment of the Sydney Hotel was ‘the want of room’. Earlier the Sydney Gazette had described the building, ‘this old crazy edifice’, as ‘a disgrace to the premises by which it is surrounded’ and suggested that the best thing that could happen was for the Sydney Hotel to be ‘razed to the ground’ (SG, 10 June 1826, p. 2). Eventually John Jamison agreed. In January 1830, Jamison gave notice that the house Girard now occupied was to be demolished (SG, 7 January 1830, p. 2.). All the buildings on Jamison’s estate were demolished and the land divided into allotments for sale from January 1831 (SG, 21 September 1830, p. 3; The Australian, 28 January 1831, p. 3). François Girard meanwhile had moved on to pursue other ventures. He was by no means the only baker in Sydney. Competition, in what was a small market, was fierce. The case of Thomas Dunsdon is one example of the difficulties newcomers could face in this ruthless environment. Success often depended more on determination and perseverance than skill and experience. 

 

Francis Durand was an experienced French cook. He arrived in Sydney in 1826 and swapped his role as ship’s steward on the Regalia for his own business offering ‘cookery and confectionery in all its branches’ at 10 Pitt Street (SG, 8 November 1826 p. 3). He advertised French bread and biscuits and catering, providing English and Foreign dishes ‘on the shortest notice’ (SG, 2 January 1830, p. 4).

 

Eating was the province of those who found themselves away from home at lunch or dinner. Dining was more likely the business of the wealthy and those who threw parties or routs. It was these clients who were most likely to appreciate the talent of someone ‘experienced as a French cook’. Like Girard and others who started out as confectioners/bakers, Durand saw more potential as a publican and established himself as the host of the Baker’s Arms in George Street until poor health forced him to look for some other outlet for his talents (Australian, 5 August 1831, p. 4; SG, 27 November 1832, p. 1). His next venture involved purchasing the whole stock of ‘Mr Henry Bull, Provisioner, of Hunter Street’ and continuing that business as well as operating as a cook and confectioner and offering private dinners in ‘a pleasant well-furnished room, on the first floor’ above his shop. (SG, 13 June 1833, p. 3; Sydney Herald, 27 June 1833, p. 1; SG, 8 August 1833, p. 4).

 

Whether dogged by ill health or not able to make a successful living as a cook/caterer/confectioner, Durand again tried his hand as a publican, this time as the licensee of the Hope in Goulburn Street. This was a less salubrious part of town, and he certainly did not advertise that he was serving his patrons French cuisine, but he did maintain the license for three years (SG, 31 October 1833, p. 3Sydney Herald, 9 January 1834, p. 1; SG, 6 April 1837, p. 2). Rather than establishing a reputation for his food Durand’s legacy was the naming of Durand’s Alley ‘a place notorious as the resort of bad characters’ which eventually deteriorated into ‘an infamous “rookery”’ (The Sydney Monitor, 21 July 1837, p. 2; see also https://dictionaryofsydney.org/entry/haymarket). The connection of the alley to Durand may have come from the hotel or be related to houses he owned in the area (Sydney Herald, 2 October 1834, p. 3).

 

His next enterprise was a confectioner’s shop next door to the Theatre Royal, seemingly an ideal location. Here he also advertised gentlemen could ‘be accommodated with an Ordinary daily at any hour they please’ but did not specify French cooking (The Australian, 20 June 1837, p. 3). Durand’s final undertaking was the license for the Baker’s Arms hotel at the corner of Sussex and Druitt Streets, just in time for him to witness William Toogood proclaiming himself a restaurateur at the Rainbow Tavern (SG, 5 April 1838, p. 2; Sydney Monitor, 23 July 1838, p. 2). After 12 years in the colony Durand could make little claim to have advanced the cause of French cuisine or sophisticated French dining and his time had run out; he died in October 1838 (Commercial Journal and Advertiser, 31 October 1838, p. 2).

 

Tracing the careers of Girard and Durand through the newspaper reports gives little insight into the extent of any French community in Sydney, the interaction between French speaking men and women in the colony and precious little idea of the influence of French ideas on the local community. Other than that Frenchness was at least assumed to have some cachet, the extent that anything offered by these Frenchmen to their clientele was anything more French than they could obtain at other eating establishment in the city is debatable.

 

In this early period, that is before the era of the gold rushes, there are only two other references to enterprises offering French fare or at least fare produced in the French style. 

In January 1842 Cleris and Calonder announced they were opening a confectionery business in George Street (Sydney Herald, 3 January 1842, p. 2) and in July of the same year Henin and Bourdon opened their French restaurant on Pitt Street (Australasian Chronicle, 28 July 1842, p. 3). Louis Bourdon was one of the Canadian rebels transported to Australia in 1840 and thanks to research into the lives and connections of the rebels in Sydney it is possible to piece together something of the story behind these two ventures.**

 

Just how and when Cleris and Calonder arrived in the colony is not known. Jacques Calonder was a Swiss confectioner (Petrie p. 301) and Cleris may well have been a German cook/chef (Petrie, p. 147), although their advertising claimed they were ‘late from Paris’ and their expertise lay in confectionery, pastry and chocolate manufacture. They were certainly professionals promising, among a mouth-watering selection of ‘delicieux morceaux’ ‘Gateaux de Savoi, Crème a la  Chantilly’ and ‘many other elegantly ornamented cakes’ along with a range of offerings not generally available in the colony including Biscuits de Rhins, Charlotte Russe, Gateaux Parissiens, Gateaux de Milan, and Croquets Hollondais, all of which they intended to make themselves. They also planned on providing a dizzying array of other items from custards, jellies and sugared almonds to macaroni, vermicelli, fresh salmon, salad oil and a ‘Vegetive syrup strongly recommended by the Faculty of Paris for the cure of dropsy’. 

 

Cleris and Calonder set up their business in the premises ‘lately occupied by R. Clint, engraver’ which raises the question of how much work was needed to make the space suitable for producing cakes and other confectionery and how much equipment they either brought with them or purchased locally. Many of these catering/confectionery businesses sprang up seemingly overnight although starting out must have involved some not inconsiderable investment in both modifying the premises and furnishing the necessary batterie de cuisine. The establishment also needed staff and one of the employees of this venture was Louis Bourdon. Bourdon had no expertise to offer (he is variously described as a farmer and merchant’s clerk), but he had a good command of English and was put to work on the counter (Petrie, p. 147).

 

As promised Cleris and Calonder quickly expanded their business to provide breakfast at 10 am, lunch at 1 pm, dinner with coffee a la Francaise at 6.30 pm, and suppers at 10 pm, although anyone who turned up between those hours would be accommodated (Sydney Free Press, 8 March 1842, p. 3). Whether the business was not as successful as envisaged or because the partners had a difference of opinion the ‘copartnery’ did not last long. Cleris announced he was severing is connection with Calonder as of 10 March, after only three months (Sydney Free Press, 19 March 1842, p. 3), and by May all the stock-in-trade was being auctioned (Sydney Free Press, 7 May 1842, p. 3). The auctioneers list gives some indication of the investment in fixtures and paraphernalia needed to establish the business - glass cases, counters, furniture and the unexpired lease on the premises; sugar, flour, confits, syrup, chocolate salad oil, chairs, tables, sofas, dumb waiters, glasses, tumblers, dinner and tea services, kitchen utensils etc.

 

M. Calonder went on to be employed as a cook by John Ireland, the landlord of the Plough Inn at the junction of Parramatta and Liverpool roads, Ashfield thanks to the intervention of another of the Canadian transportees (Petrie, p. 301).

 

The premises they vacated, directly opposite the Bank of Australasia, did not stand empty for long, becoming the Victoria Refreshment Rooms, under the supervision of Mr and Mrs Dunsden. Here the epicure was provided with food prepared by ‘the unrivalled French cook lately in the employ of Cleris and Calonder’, who was, presumably, M. Cleris (The Sydney Herald, 31 May 1842, p. 3.; Australasian Chronicle, 11 June 1842, p. 3). What happened to Cleris after the Victoria Refreshment Rooms closed (The Australian, 12 December 1842, p. 3) is not known but, like Jacques Calonder, it is probable he found employment in another kitchen.

 

Louis Bourdon remained with Jacques Calonder until the business in George Street closed, after which he pursued the partnership with Henin. Again, there is nothing to suggest how or when Henin came to the colony, but it is possible he had some experience as either a baker or a ‘restaurateur’ (Henin is referred to as both a baker and a restaurateur; Petrie p. 287 and 326). The two certainly had grand plans, taking over the Noah’s Ark Tavern in Pitt Street, next to the theatre, an ideal location for their projected French Restaurant. They advertised they would provide a variety of French and Italian dishes at lunch and dinner and were available to cater for dinner parties as well as offering board and lodging to ‘a few private gentlemen’ at a moderate price (Australasian Chronicle, 28 July 1842, p. 3). This may well have been a serious attempt to establish a French restaurant in Sydney, but it was short lived. The last advertisement appears in August (Australasian Chronicle, 9 August 1842, p, 3) and Petrie (p. 326) records that the enterprise failed after only six or seven weeks because of the high rent on the premises and the limited financial resources of the two partners.*** Bourdon then stayed at Mr Meillon’s Inn, The Jews Harp, Brickfield Hill (Petrie p. 326) and absconded from the colony in September leaving his debts behind (Boissery p. 275–6). 

 

Neither John Ireland nor John Meillon took advantage of the services of a French cook.

Intriguingly notices appeared in newspapers in September 1842 placed by ‘a French cook, lately arrived in the colony, who understands the French, English and Italian cooking’ who was looking for employment and hoped to meet with employers at Meillon’s hotel (Australasian Chronicle, 13 September 1842, p. 3). It is possible that this was the mysterious Henin, of whom nothing more is known other than a reference to the departure of Mr. and Mrs. Henin and child, headed for the South Seas, in January 1846 (SMH, 27 January 1846, p. 2).

 

In general, a lack of finance, limited experience on the part of the entrepreneurs, perhaps also limited knowledge of English, and a seeming lack of interest or enthusiasm on the part of the eating public stymied the success of these French businesses. Although little is known about most of the individuals involved their stories do hint at a more cosmopolitan Sydney than is perhaps generally recognised before the flood of Europeans arrived during the gold rush years. Unearthing the links between Cleris, Calonder, Bourdon and Henin also suggests the interconnectedness at street level of the albeit small French community, and points to the possibility that there were many more cooks with some knowledge of French cookery working in hotels and private homes than is discoverable using the extant records.

 

 

* For a full account of Girard see Kenneth R. Dutton ‘A colonial entrepreneur: François Girard (1792?–1859)’, Explorations no 39, December 20025, https://www.isfar.org.au/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/39_KENNETH-R.-DUTTON-A-Colonial-Entrepreneur-Francois-Girard-1792-1859.pdf

 

**The most accessible sources for information on the Canadian rebels are Brian Petrie, French Canadian Rebels as Australian Convicts (Melbourne: Australian Scholarly Press, 2013) and Beverley Boissery’s thesis, ‘The Patriote Convicts: a study of the 1838 rebellion in lower Canada and the transportation of some of the participants to New South Wales’, PhD, Australian National University, 1977 which is available on-line through Trove.

 

***Boissery records that Bourdon made some money while at Longbottom, selling shells, for lime, and timber, but how much he had to invest in the business and what resources Henin possessed is not known.