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 ice. In 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 ……….

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[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

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 1804, Paris: 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. 3; Sydney 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.

A Tale of Two Toogoods. Part 4: Alfred and the end of the Rainbow

 Alfred Toogood resumed business at the Rainbow Tavern, on the north-western corner of Pitt and King Streets in 1843. Where brother William had staked his reputation on being a self-styled restaurateur, Alfred appears to have been more interested in the trade in wine and spirits. Announcing his return to the Rainbow he informed prospective patrons that he had just received some choice wines ‘of a very superior description, the merits of which can only be appreciated by tasting’. He hoped to continue to receive a share of the public patronage thanks to ‘his long standing in society, and his great outlay in taking possession of his present extensive premises, and increasing and improving his stock in trade from the first London and colonial houses’.[1]

It isn’t entirely clear whether, at this stage, Alfred was importing on his own behalf or simply buying his stock at auction in Sydney, or perhaps a mixture of the two. From quite early in the piece he was supplying both the retail and wholesale trade. For example, in May 1844, he advertised that he had ‘received the finest batch of English Ale he has ever imported into the colony and has made arrangements to have a regular supply every three months’. He also had available Martell’s brandy, Hollands and Old Tom gin, old Jamaica rum, of extra strength, was able to provide wines in bottle and wood ‘of superior quality and flavour’ and could supply the trade ‘in any quantity at small profit’.[2]

He was certainly a fan of catchy advertising. The following appeared in the Sydney Morning Herald on 1 July 1844:

ALE! MORE ALE!!

 

The Glorious Sun, the Father of Light,

Illuminates the world so splendidly bright

Her rays she extends, all beauties to show,

None I think equals that of the “Rainbow”.

A Rainbow was built, not only of wood,

But of stone, bricks, and mortar and kept by TOOGOOD,

Stands at the corner of King street, where you can avail

Yourself, if you choose, of the best good Ale.

I don’t wish to boast – it is not my tact,

Call in and taste, one trial proves the fact;

But said I have, and will say again,

If not better, it equals the Sparkling Champagne.

Arrangements I’ve made for a regular supply

Of Spirits, Ale, and Wines, to be beat I defy;

Though a short time in the business, I’ve learnt what is what,

I have all my best Ales come through Lyall and Scott.

Some folks they PUFF of their prices so low,

The public not aware of the impositions, I know;

I could, if I like, a long tale unfold,

Of the TRASH that is brought, by the puffers is sold.

My motto’s “Industry,” and ever shall be,

I thank, with great pleasure, all my friends that I see;

Buy naught but the best, if better I would,

Spirits, Ales, and Wine, at the Rainbow’s TOOGOOD.[3]

 

Despite the difficult economic times, business prospered during the 1840s. By 1846 Alfred had established a new store in Pitt Street, adjacent to the Rainbow, where he sold his extensive stock of ales, wines and spirits and had fitted up a suite of rooms for the benefit of ‘professional and commercial men’ where they could find the leading newspapers, both local and imported, and private rooms at their disposal. In advertising he ventured to assert that the facilities he provided at the Rainbow could vie with those of ‘any similar establishment either in this or the sister colonies’. He also provided words of caution:

The high character which the “Rainbow” has secured for its wines, spirits, beers and ales and also in respect to the excellence of its cuisine, renders it nearly superfluous on the part of the proprietor to advert to these points …. But in as much as a very inferior article is now, owing to the state of the markets, surreptitiously being imposed, in too many instances, on the public, A.T. regrets the necessity of cautioning consumers against liquors etc sold as the genuine article, to which they have no more affinity than the Port Wine produced in Figueira has to the highest quality of the vineyards of the Alto Douro.[4]

Just as it seems reasonable to question what William Toogood could have known about restaurants, it is worth pondering whether Alfred himself knew the difference between the port wine of Figueira and that of the Alto Douro. These references to foreign notions of good taste gave William and Alfred kudos but also encouraged their clientele to see themselves as sophisticated and knowledgeable, whether they were or not, and acted to give the Rainbow status, setting it above the run of the mill public house.

Alfred’s absolute pardon was finally announced in the NSW Government Gazette in June 1847 and he immediately made it known that he was leaving the colony.[5] In January 1848 Alfred, his wife Ann and their two daughters, Sarah Ellen and Georgiana Catherine, sailed for home.[6]This trip was probably intended as a chance to reconnect with family, but it also provided an opportunity to develop business relationships and contacts to further the liquor importation business (discussed below). While living in London in 1850, Ann gave birth to triplets, all boys.[7] In all the family were away for almost five years returning in October 1852.[8]

Back in town Alfred was busy. He had brought with him a consignment of billiard tables and accoutrements as well as 200 cases of gin, and a stock of wine which he now had to sell. He also called for tenders to paint and thoroughly clean the Rainbow Tavern ready to resume business.[9] In December he was granted the license for the Rainbow Tavern and then Ann Toogood dies.[10] It seems likely that Ann died in childbirth, the birth of Sydney Collins Toogood is registered in 1852. She was only 37 and left Alfred with at least four young children in need of someone to care for them. Alfred was quick to find another wife. In March 1853 he married his sister-in-law, Rachel Sarah Webber and in December came the death his brother William, who had established the Rainbow in its present location in 1842.[11]

Relying only on newspaper reports it is difficult to gain a picture of individuals and their relationships. Alfred and William may have been close, but they were not alike. William’s name rarely appeared in the press other than in association with his own advertising or in relation to his membership of the order of Oddfellows. The overall impression is that he was reserved and restrained. Albert on the other hand was frequently mentioned in reports of court cases which, taken together, suggest a quick temper, a high estimation of his own importance and an enthusiasm to address any and all perceived slights. 

The weekly Bell’s Life in Sydney and Sporting Reviewer took a keen interest in Alfred’s antics and frequently made fun of him, in particular his short stature dubbing him ‘Alfred the Little’ and referring to him as ‘the great little man’.[12] Both William and Alfred were short, 5’ 3” (160 cm) and 5’ 1½” (156 cm) respectively, but it was only Alfred whose height did not measure up to his opinion of himself.

Some of Alfred’s disputes throw light on both his character and the nature of his business. While in London had made arrangements to import wine and spirits which were handled in Australia by the merchants and commissioning agents Smith, Campbell and Company. The agreement called for Smith, Campbell to import goods to the value of £3000 per annum or £750 per quarter at 12% commission, according to Alfred’s instructions.  When Alfred refused to accept a shipment of goods, they were sold at several hundred pounds below their price according to the invoice and Alfred was required to make up the difference. Alfred argued that his instructions had been misinterpreted and he was not required to accept any goods supplied beyond the amount originally agreed upon. The court found in favour of Smith, Campbell and Co. but Alfred was not content, and published a lengthy letter in the press vindicating his position. [13] The affair dragged on for two years.[14]

This experience did not halt his imports. He could claim to be ‘one of the largest importers of goods into this market in the wine and spirit trade’ and to have an ‘established reputation as an English buyer’ of liquor, he also continued to import billiard tables and warehouse a range of other comestibles for use in his hotel business.[15] The quantities involved and the amount of money changing hands confirms that his business speculations were highly lucrative. The auction of the contents of Alfred’s various stores by his executors revealed the extent of his importing business, all the goods having been ‘selected’ with his ‘great care and judgement.’[16]

One of his more entrepreneurial ventures was to open a room at the Rainbow for entertainment, – music, and comic and sentimental singing.[17] In March 1858 he engaged the Buckingham family, a well-known troupe of entertainers, in an attempt to make his saloon ‘one of the greatest attractions in the city’.[18] Relations between Alfred and the Buckinghams soured quickly, with the following notice appearing in the Sydney Morning Herald in July:

The Buckingham family respectfully request that gentlemen visiting [Toogood’s Grand Saloon] turn to the right as they come up the stairs, as they have no interest in the other concert room turning to the left. They merely say that they pay A. Toogood £4 per week having leased the room for 6 months from 24 April.[19]

George Buckingham subsequently accused Alfred of using threatening language, while Alfred accused Buckingham of assault. This ‘trumpery affair’ ended with Buckingham paying a penalty of 1s and withdrawing his complaint.[20] Bell’s Life in Sydney, with tongue firmly in cheek, took delight in describing the incident which prompted the court action, describing Alfred as ‘the much and justly-respected complainant’ of ‘minute proportions’.[21]

Doing business with Alfred was difficult, working for him was fraught. He was incensed when a former employee literally crossed the road to run the restaurant at a rival hotel. He described the action by George Watson, his former head waiter, as ‘an impudent and futile attempt’ to win over patrons of the Rainbow ‘by underhand means’.[22] Albert’s ‘pugnacious propensities’ found him charged with assault by another waiter, James Rath, and when Robert Prior, a cook, left his service without notice, Alfred felt duty bound to caution other employers not to engage him warning that ‘If this kind of conduct is not put a stop to employers are not safe from others tampering with their servants.’[23] Other disputes involved former workers trying to reclaim wages, refusal to pay tradesmen for work he considered inferior, quarrels over rental payments, the use of foul language and slander, and arguments with neighbours over access, all indicating that Alfred saw himself as a force to be reckoned with.[24]

In 1857 he stood for election to the city council in the belief that as ‘an old colonist … I am quite aware of the wants and requirements of this city’. His bid was unsuccessful perhaps because of his own recommendation: ‘From my general business habits, and from the way in which I have conducted myself amongst you as a citizen for many years, you have the best guarantee of my future actions.’[25] Alfred was able to demonstrate his awareness of the requirements of the city when he was taken to court by the Mayor and Corporation of Sydney for refusal to pay sewerage rates in 1864. The amount in question was minimal but there was a principle at stake and this case became something of a cause célèbre, the rate payers rallying around to pay Alfred’s court costs.[26]

The Rainbow Tavern remained the central focus of Alfred’s activities but by no means his only source of income. He owned or at least had interests in a number of other hotels – The Globe Hotel at Parramatta, with attached cottages; the Exhibition Hotel at the corner of Pitt and Market streets; the Commercial Hotel, corner King and Castlereagh Streets; the Picnic Hotel at Coogee; the Robert Burns Tavern, corner Sussex and Bathurst Streets; the Oriental Hotel at Circular Quay, and his biggest investment, the Marine Hotel which he renamed the Greenwich Pier Hotel at Watson’s Bay.[27]

The Marine Hotel was advertised for sale in November 1857, and Albert was in occupation by February 1858.[28] In March he was making application to extend the wharf adjacent to the hotel and was advertising that the Marine Hotel, complete with furniture was to let.[29] At the same time he made the Rainbow Tavern available to let in whole or in part, perhaps to allow himself time to manage both establishments.[30] By September the pier at Watson’s Bay was almost complete and Alfred could claim that he had spent nearly £5000 on the grounds of the hotel to turn it into a popular resort.[31]

Originally built around 1837 and subsequently called Zandoliet by its then owner Pieter Laurentz Campbell, sometime Colonial Treasurer, the Marine Hotel was described as a very substantial dwelling house, built of the very best materials and comprising conveniently planned, large and lofty apartments, ‘providing ample and suitable accommodation for travellers, invalids, private families, pleasure parties and commercial men.’[32] Situated ‘on the banks of an enchanting river, and the crescent of the pretty picturesque bay’ and affording ‘a singular combination of maritime sublimity with rural beauty’, the hotel could hardly fail to be a success.

In March 1859 Alfred took over the license of the Marine Hotel himself, but not without some argy bargy with his previous tenant over unpaid rent, and left the Rainbow in the hands of James Simpson.[33] Alfred continued to make changes and improvements which brought him in to conflict with his neighbours but his own involvement with what was now called the Greenwich Pier Hotel did not last long.[34] In December the license passed to Henry Billing, who attracted business to the hotel by establishing a zoological garden in the grounds.[35] Accounts of the history of the Greenwich Pier Hotel fail to mention Alfred Toogood’s ownership but Billing was his tenant and the wharf Alfred had built remained in private hands.[36]

Alfred returned once again to the Rainbow.[37] There is a suggestion that his relationship with James Simpson had been uncomfortable. Given Alfred’s character perhaps he was unable to leave the Rainbow in the hands of another without interfering.[38] He thought Simpson ungrateful and when he put the Rainbow up for lease again in 1861 Alfred felt the need to publicly refute rumours about the agreement he had had with Simpson.[39] Why he wanted to lease his prize hotel, doing upwards of £700 per month is not stated.

Rachel Sarah had died at the end of 1860 and with the children from his first marriage still living at home Alfred married for a third time in 1862.[40] The Rainbow did not attract a tenant, perhaps because Alfred’s reputation as a difficult man to work with was by now too well known, and he was kept busy running his wholesale liquor business and his trade in billiard tables, keeping is eye on what was going on in Watson’s Bay, turning up for court appearances, and generally managing his real estate portfolio which included hotels and residential properties, all the time keeping the Rainbow on track.[41]

In February 1867 he advertised that due to ill health he was looking to let the coffee room department of the Rainbow, and this was taken over by Messrs. Mackel and Quinn.[42] And then suddenly, in May, Alfred was dead.[43] He left his considerable estate in trust, in the hands of his executors Robert Allen Hunt, his son William Alfred Toogood and his brother-in-law Thomas Wilton Eady.[44] How Alfred knew Hunt, who had had a long and distinguished career in the Post Office, is not known. The will stipulated the purchase of accommodation for his wife, the payment of allowances to his older children including a lump sum payment to  Georgina Catherine on her marriage, provision to pay for his sons’ apprenticeships and a down payment for each of them should they wish to start a business.[45]

Immediately the Rainbow was to let. Advertising described it as in an unrivalled position, replete with every convenience. Indeed, a similar establishment would not be out of place in Sydney today with its metal bar, plate glass, cut glass chandeliers and polished cedar seats with stuffed cushions. The ground floor housed the bar, the bar parlour, the Commercial room, two lobbies, the coffee and dining rooms and the attached kitchen. On the first floor were the billiard room, a drawing room and a sitting room. Eight spacious bedrooms took up the second floor and on the third floor there were two bedrooms and a loft opening out onto a flat roof fitted with a large plunge bath! At the rear there were three store-rooms, a vatting room, connected by pipes to the bar, and underneath cellars lit by gas, arranged in four departments including a wine cellar with 50 wine bins. No wonder this was the jewel in Alfred’s crown.[46]

Thomas McGrath and James Punch, who already operated the City Wine Vaults, were quick to take up the lease and change the name to Punch’s Hotel.[47] McGrath died in 1869 but James Punch, from a family of publicans who owned numerous hotels in the city, retained the hotel, buying it from the Toogood estate in 1877. When James Punch died in 1880 it was purchased by his brother Francis.[48]

 Punch’s Hotel c.1882.  

Source: photograph available on-line at Joseph Lebovic Gallery. Original caption gives date as 1872, but the name of Francis Punch over the door means the date is at least 1881. 

Auction notice 29 November 1882. (see Evening News, 29 November 1882, p. 4)

Source: City of Sydney Archives.

Punch's Hotel is on the bottom left, coloured red.

The ‘popular and well-conducted institution’ changed hands again in 1883 to become the Sydney headquarters of the Federal Bank of Australia ending 41 years of operation as a public house.[49] The bank was a victim of the financial crisis of the 1890s and ceased operation in 1893.[50] From then on the corner site was occupied by a variety of commercial interests including the aptly named William Fitwell who sold shoes and finally by A.A. Marks tobacconist. The building was bought by Proud’s Limited, a local jewellery business, and demolished in 1918.[51] There is nothing to remind anyone of the Rainbow Tavern and William and Alfred Toogood as they pass the corner of King and Pitt Streets today, despite their part in shaping the city.

This investigation of the Toogood brothers began with William Toogood’s declaration that he was now a ‘restaurateur’. While the story of the Toogoods and the Rainbow Tavern is part of a bigger project looking at the history and development of the eating and dining scene in Sydney it has also been worth following for what it reveals about the evolution of colonial society. Apart from the obvious story of ex-convicts made good and the money that could be made out of running hotels the asides have provided numerous insights into life in Sydney – the development of the suburban fringe, the interconnection of individuals in the growing city, the diversity of the population – Portuguese fishermen living at Watson’s Bay, foreign waiters serving at the Rainbow and Chinese cooks working in the kitchen - and, of course, how the convict past became subsumed in the hustle and bustle of commercial life and population growth. 

 

---

[1] Sydney Morning Herald (SMH), 26 August 1843, p. 1.

[2] SMH, 21 May 1844, p. 3.

[3] For more of Alfred’s corny advertising see Bell’s Life in Sydney and Sporting Reviewer (Bell’s Life), 6 September 1845, p. 1; The Examiner, 13 September 1845, p. 47.

[4] New store in Pitt Street, SMH, 9 May 1846, p. 3. Commercial rooms, SMH, 26 August 1846, p. 1.

[5] NSW Government Gazette (Gov. Gaz), 22 June 1847, p. 672. Absolute Pardon Gazetted. In fact, Alfred announced his intention to leave the Colony in advance of the Gazette notice, see SMH, 14 June 1847, p. 2.

[6] Shipping Gazette, 22 January 1848, p. 18. Sarah Ellen birth registered 1845, Georgiana Catherine birth registered 1847. The NSW Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages (NSWBDM) also includes the birth of William Alfred Toogood registered in 1848 but there is no mention of an infant son leaving with the family.

[7] SMH, 1 April 1851, p. 3 records the birth of three sons on 29 October 1850 at 17 Murray Street, New North Road, London. It is not recorded but it appears that none of these sons survived. No deaths of males with the surname Toogood, parents Alfred and Ann, are registered in NSW other than William Alfred and Sydney Collins, whose birth is registered in 1852. Alfred’s will only lists his then wife and her children, Sarah Ellen, Catherine Georgiana, William Alfred and Sydney Collins.

[8] Mr and Mrs Toogood and family return SMH, 25 October 1852, p. 2.

[9] Alfred brings back billiard tables, staying at the Golden Fleece. SMH, 30 October 1852, p. 3. SMH, 8 November 1852, p. 2 calling for tenders for painting, colouring and thoroughly cleaning the Rainbow Tavern. SMH, 29 November 1852, p. 1 advertising auction of wines, see also SMH, 25 January 1853, p. 3 advertising a few hundred dozen Moet’s champagne for sale.

[10] Empire, 9 December 1852, p. 3. Granted license to Rainbow. Empire, 14 December 1852, p. 1 funeral of Ann Toogood leaves William Toogood’s, Erskineville, died on 13^th in her 37^th year (SMH 14 December 1852, p. 3)

[11] SMH, 2 March 1853, p. 2.

[12] See for example Bell’s Life in Sydney and Sporting Reviewer (Bell’s Life), 13 January 1855, p. 2; 5 June 1855, p. 3; 24 July 1858, p. 3.

[13] See SMH, 19 August 1856, p. 2; SMH 1 November 1856, p. 5. For Alfred’s letter see SMH 14 February 1857 p. 2; Empire, 24 October 1857, p. 3.

[14] SMH, 25 August 1858, p. 2; SMH, 6 September 1858, p. 2; SMH,16 September 1858, p. 3. Albert does not appear to have appealed the final decision.

[15] SMH, 20 December 1853, p. 6; Empire, 9 September 1857 p. 6. For a comprehensive list of the goods Alfred had in store see the inventory for the auction of his estate, SMH ,25 June 1867, p. 6.

[16]  SMH, 6 June 1867, p. 7; SMH, 25 June 1867, p. 6.

[17] SMH, 28 March 1856, p. 1.

[18] Empire, 13 March 1858, p. 1.

[19] SMH, 7 July 1858, p. 1

[20] SMH, 23 July 1858, p. 2

[21] Bell’s Life, 24 July 1858, p. 3.

[22] Empire, 22 December 1856, p. 1.

[23] Bell’s Life in Sydney, 5 June 1858, p. 3; SMH, 28 February 1860, p. 1.

[24] Examples are numerous, SMH, 24 March 1860, p. 7; SMH, 12 April 1861, p. 8; Empire, 12 April 1865, p. 5; Sydney Mail, 24 March 1866, p. 5; SMH, 17 August 1866, p. 3.

[25] SMH, 21 April 1857, p. 1.

[26] Empire, 12 March 1864 p. 3; SMH, 8 August 1864, p. 2; SMH, 12 August 1864, p. 4; Freeman’s Journal, 19 August 1864, p. 4.

[27] It is not confirmed but possible that the Exhibition Hotel was formerly William Toogood’s Toogood’s Hotel and the Commercial Hotel was on the site of the original Rainbow started by William in 1838.

[28] Empire, 26 November 1857, p. 1. The licensee in May 1858 was Henry Clay, SMH, 19 May 1858, p. 6. Clay transferred the license to Mary Murphy in September, SMH, 15 September 1858, p. 3.

[29] Advertising for a cook, SMH, 9 February 1858, p. 1; application to extend wharf Gov. Gaz., 9 March 1858, p. 435; Marine Hotel to let SMH, 17 March 1858, p. 8.

[30] Rainbow to let SMH, 2 March 1858, p. 8.

[31] Bell’s Life, 18 September 1858, p. 2; SMH, 9 October 1858, p. 10.  

[32] Empire, 19 January 1856, p. 12.

[33] For transfer of license see SMH, 9 March 1859, p. 3; case against Solomon, SMH, 11 November 1859, p. 2.

[34] More work SMH, 9 June 1859, p.8; dispute with neighbours, Empire, 3 December 1859, p. 5; SMH, 24 March 1860, p. 7; SMH,10 August 1860, p. 4.

[35] SMH, 29 December 1859. Henry Billing senior died in 1862 (Empire, 20 April 1862, p. 1). Alfred Toogood advertised the hotel to let (SMH, 10 October 1862, p. 1) but the license remained with the Billing family (see Gov. Gaz., 26 August 1868, p. 2880) until it was sold in February 1869 (SMH, 27 February 1869, p. 12). There is no evidence to date that the hotel was sold before the death of Alfred Toogood.

[36] For example https://dictionaryofsydney.org/entry/watsons_bay. See SMH, 9 October 1863, p. 3 re. Toogood’s ownership of the wharf.

[37] SMH, 29 December 1859 p. 4

[38] See SMH, 26 July 1860 p. 1 and SMH, 27 July 1860, p. 1 for suggestion that Alfred thought Simpson ungrateful.

[39] SMH, 12 April 1861, p. 8

[40] NSWBDM for marriage to Esther Carroll. No newspaper reports have been found. According to the NSWBDM data base this marriage produced three children, Alfred b. 1864; Hetty, b. 1865 and Josephine b/d 1866. 

[41] For example, SMH, 6 February 1861, p. 2; SMH, 23 March 1861, p. 12; SMH, 10 May 1861, p. 1; SMH, 19 November 1864 p. 12; SMH, 23 May 1865, p. 8 among many.

[42] Empire, 9 February 1867, p. 8; SMH, 19 February 1867, p. 1.

[43] Empire, 29 May 1867, p. 8. Died on 28^th at the Rainbow, aged 54. Buried Camperdown.

[44] Museums of History New South Wales – State Archives Collection: Supreme Court of New South Wales, Probate Division, NRS-13660-1[14/3406]-Series1_7226, Alfred Toogood, Date of death 28 May 1867, Granted on 18 June 1867. For Hunt see SMH, 13 November 1858, p. 6.

[45] The will refers to his wife as Hester, and to her three children although there is only a record of two surviving children fathered by Alfred according to the NSWBDM data base.

[46] SMH, 13 June 1867, p. 8.

[47] SMH, 25 July 1867, p. 8. Punch’s Hotel was sold to James Punch in 1877 for £18,000, see Evening News, 10 August 1877, p. 3. At the same time several of Alfred’s other properties were also sold.

[48] Death of Thomas McGrath Bell’s Life, 12 June 1869, p. 3; death of James Punch Evening News, 7 December 1880, p. 2; purchased by Frank Punch Evening News, 23 February 1881, p. 2.

[49] Evening News, 17 April 1883, p. 3; Sydney Mail, 21 April 1883, p. 758.

[50] SMH, 30 January 1893, p. 5.

[51] Daily Telegraph (Sydney), 24 August 1918, p. 9.