Goodhope Street Archives

April 9, 2025

Five Ways to Remember: Hoddle Street

Hoddle Street never had much aesthetically. Apart from Alma Gahan and the bamboos in Sharkey’s place there was nothing of such stuff as men’s dreams are made on.

Bamboos and palms are good for young Robinson Crusoes and Fridays in the fun and games of tropical islands but children cannot be aloft all the time and finally we would wearily settle for the asphalt comfort of footpaths and gutter.

Out of this scruffy little street you could at any drop of the hat rake out the three rough diamonds set cluster-wise in the hollows. Billy Stoddard, Billy Gallagher and Cyril McCaffery. Anytime was trouble time when all were allowed out to play. The asphalt jungle was beset with terrors, catapults, pea-shooters and the garbage missile to say nothing of an occasional air-rifle loaded with spud-shot. Fearsome it was!

Yet, in dinkum retrospect I suppose Hoddle Street was the best around. An abundance of children could play happily along its buggy less fairway. A short, pleasant fairway which any amateur with a No 7 iron, would have sliced from Glenmore Road to Goodhope Street in one.

We would play for hours at cricket, tip-cat, hop-scotch, marbles, tops and all that was fun without expense. The only traffic apart from the residents was the evening lamp-lighter and the occasional perve, who we could smell a mile off.

Our back lane ran into Hoddle Street, so we were sort of part-owners of it anyway – inversely we were part of it. Years later when I looked over the deed of 290, I found that our ground was a section of an 1833 grant of eight acres to one Robert Hoddle.

Mr Hoddle was quite something in the way of being a surveyor. He charted the Bell’s Line of Road over the Blue Mountains, he surveyed the sites of Berrima, Goulburn, Brisbane and Melbourne where he finally settled.

Surveyor-General of NSW T.L. Mitchell snobbishly fobbed him off as a character who couldn’t spell and who should have stuck to his links and chains. With a name like Hoddle who would want to take an interest in high-falutin’ English anyway? After a mis-spelt life he died in Melbourne on 24 October 1881 leaving a crumby £500,000 behind.

[W.E. Pidgeon]

February 7, 2023

Five Ways to Remember: Bishop Gaslamp Lighter

From round Goodhope Street and down by McCaffrey’s (or was it Stoddard’s) place he would come in the settling mist. It was colder and darker in the early winter. We had ceased play, even old Warder had given up his dismal barking, his sniffing at the old cast-iron lampposts. Huddled in anticipation of the new world, we awaited his coming. Mr. – I cannot dredge up with name but to us, he was a real mister, almost a bishop.

His silhouette against the last gas lamp he had lighted, greater, closer and bigger in the full dusk – until he greeted his tiny congregation. With his crook he would pull on the light. Down Hoddle Street and up around to Lawson Street we followed. The admiring flock, the bishop of the young and the lighter up of the lamps existed only for our particular joy and wonderment.

Always the shadows marched east from Goodhope Street. It didn’t matter whether it was winter or summer, those shadows marked the creeping end of day, finally to engulf the short valley of Hoddle Street with twilight yet leaving to the last moment the repossession of the golden light on the school and the tips of the terraces on the odd side of Glenmore Road.

Sometimes we children were quick and naughty enough to anticipate the elderly lamp lighter – yet mostly we seemed to follow him in a religious rite of observance to his ritual motions of the crook which brought the gas to light on the corners of our territory. We followed the soft effulgent glows so far as Cascade Street and called the ceremony a day, or better speaking a night.

Crickets and cicadas gave the drone notes to our shrill childish cadenzas as we marched back to a wash and something hot to eat.

[W.E. Pidgeon]

July 4, 2018

The Five Ways to Remember: Wep’s reminiscences of growing up in Paddington

The 5 Ways To Remember by W.E. Pidgeon, Wep’s reminiscences of growing up in Paddington, was specifically written for his sons, Graham and Peter.

Wep first commenced drafting these stories in the early to mid 1950s. In 1975 when Wep could no longer see to paint due to glaucoma and six eye operations, he applied for a Direct Assistance Grant from the Visual Arts Board to publish the manuscript. This was referred to the Literature Board but was ultimately rejected due to insufficient funds. The manuscript remained incomplete. It includes a potential list of chapters or stories, hand written and typed drafts for 14 chapters, an introduction and preface as well as a number of illustration roughs.

These short vignettes and applicable sketches, edited by Wep’s son, Peter, will be published via a series of posts on this blog.They provide an insightful window into Wep’s early childhood and what it was like to be a young lad growing up in Paddington, 100 years ago.

The title, The 5 Ways to Remember is in homage to Five Ways, Paddington in Sydney. Its location is the intersection formed by Glenmore Road with Goodhope Street, Broughton Street and Heeley Street and was the commercial centre of the local community; about 200m from where Wep grew up at 290 Glenmore Road.

Wep’s father Frederick died in 1913 when Wep was only four years old. As a consequence, his early childhood was strongly influenced by his maternal grandfather, John White and the White family. John White, a former Mayor and long time councilor in Paddington was a master builder. He built the row of terrace houses at 290 Glenmore Roadand many other terraces around Paddington including the Paddington Town Hall and a number of railway stations in country New South Wales. John lived a short walk from Five Ways at 11 Gurner Street on the corner with Duxford Street, in a grand terrace house he also built. His home was called Trelawney in reference to the Cornish hero, from where John originated. Upon his death in 1935, the name plaque was relocated to 290 Glenmore Road by Wep’s mother, Thirza where it remained in place adjacent to the front door until only a few years ago.

John White was married to Isabella Garrick McRitchie and they had nine children, seven of whom survived to adulthood; five boys and two girls. Wep’s Uncle Percy was a forward in the Easter Suburbs Rugby Football team that won their maiden premiership in 1911. He died of wounds received at Amiens, France on 24 April 1917. His aunt Isabella Rose was married to Septimus Patterson, a dentist and Captain in the Australian Army Medical Corps during the First World War. It was Septimus who was influential in obtaining Wep a position as a Cadet Newspaper Artist with the Evening News in 1925, through his professional relationship with the editor of that newspaper.

These stories enlighten us about some of the characters that inhabited Five Ways and nearby streets during the war years and early 1920s. Where appropriate, editorial notes have been added to provide context. As Wep himself noted, there is no particular order to the stories; each essentially being self contained. I hope you enjoy them.

Peter Pidgeon, July 2018