Sydney Architecture- Early Australian Architectural History

Chapter 7. FALL AND DECLINE

Early Australian Architectural History

BY 1819 Macquarie's Australia, in the architectural sense, was beginning to
show its ultimate form. Sydney and Parramatta were taking on the aspects
of established towns, whilst civilization was spreading out into the
countryside-even crossing westwards over the great wall of the Blue Mountains,
which had kept the Colony confined to a thin strip of coastal territory for nearly
forty years. The beautiful pattern the Governor set upon Sydney was to last out
the century, not always to the delight of his heLs.

In 1901 Frank Walker was to write that Macquarie could not be complimented
on his style- architecture which put utility before beauty, and that the number
of Macquarie buildings "was only equalled by their supreme ugliness of desig.
These are the same buildings for which, in his own time, Macquarie was heavily
censured because of their over-ornamentation and their preoccupation with beauty
instead of utility. The road of politics and architecture is indeed a hard one, and a
confusing one. J . A. Barry, writing in 1902, said that Fort Macquarie was removed
"to make room for a nondescript kind of castellated barn, intended to serve as a
tram terminus. In triumphs of grotesque uncouthness the architects of Macquarie's .
and those of our own time seem thoroughly at one."2

To the people of Macquarie's time, however, what beauty Sydney had
depended on these man-made works. This was a conscious and instinctive development.
Nature, to the man of the eighteenth century, was an enemy-aloof, ever
present, and always terrifying. The more the environments showed the work of
man, the more comforting it was to men's minds. It was the buildings that seemed
to give protection from the wilderness.

It could be written of Sydney that its situation was "of wonderful natural
beauty and the harbour unsurpassed anywhere in the world, but seemed to interest
the inhabitants very little. Waters like liquid sapphire, the lovely long reaches and
steep wooded banks of the Hawkesbury, and the deep shelving sands of the ocean
beaches passed unnoticed in the records of the period."4

The point was that the men of the day saw no beauty, only horror, in untamed
nature. Ten years after Macquarie went home the Sydney Gazette reported that the
FIG. 24. The rower of St James's Church, Sydney. Francis Greenway, architect.
enemy was receding a little: "The hill of Woolloomooloo, formerly a frightful
picture for the eye to rest upon from Sydney, is at length stripped of its sombre
covering and begins to present to the view the most pleasing prospect, from the
number of gentlemen's seats and tastefully laid out gardens which appear scattered
over it." Some men had the modem view, but it was a lonely one. Richard
Draper, writing in 1825, said: "I consider Sydney the most romantically situated
town imaginable, and it vexes me confoundedly that so few of its inhabitants
share the enjoyment of its varied scenery along with me."

Macquarie's building programme puzzled not a few people. Interest in the
experiment of New South Wales was widespread in Britain, and was one of the
reasons for the period's being so fully documented. In that year of 1819 Sydney
Smith published an article in the Edinburgh Review in which he wrote, "this land
of convicts and kangaroos is beginning to rise into a very fine and flourishing
settlement". He also complained that several governors displayed too great a taste
for architecture, "forgetting that the real Palladio for Botany Bay in its present
circumstances is he who keeps out the sun, wind and rain with the sulallest quantity
of bricks and mortar".

This exactly reflected the political view of the matter, but the Governor and his
enthusiastic architect, engrossed deeply in their fine plans, could not be concerned
with so mean an outlook. All the current buildings had to be finished, and there
was still the question of a market house for Sydney, a proper building for the law
courts, a schoolhouse, and a large metropolitan church, besides scores of nrinor
works. Parramatta and Liverpool and Windsor all needed public buildings.
It must have been something of a shock when J. T. Bigge landed in September
1819. This gentleman, of whose coming the Governor had had but the shortest
notice, was the Commissioner of Inquiry into the State ofthe Colony of New South
Wales. And inquire he did. There was nothing that escaped his notice as he set
himself to find out all there was to know about the Colony.'

Awful as the experience was to prove to the Governor before the inquiry
finished, we can nevertheless be thankful for the vast amount of detail that went
on record. It is because of the evidence obtained in this inquiry that we today know
so much about all matters, great and small, that went to make up life in Macquarie's
day. From this source we gain a great deal of knowledge of building
methods and techniques, and many of Greenway's activities which would otherwise
be unknown to us are revealed in great detail.

Assessment of tile evidence by a competent historian shows that "Bigge had
come, not to hold an open inquiry but to prove a case". One of the items he had
come to prove originated with Lord Liverpool, who had become Prime Minister
of England, namely that public buildings were not necessary in the Colony. It is
the mark of the rightness of Macquarie's course that before he had been in the
Colony a year Bigge was issuing personal directives to Greenway containing long
lists of new buildings that he was to plan. The only fault that Bigge was able to
find was that many ofthe buildings already built were too "ornamental", indicating
that h s criticism of Macquarie's building programme had, perforce, become
qualitative, not quantitative.

It is an advantage to understand the meaning of that word "ornamental" as
Bigge used it. An ornamental building might be either one that was much
decorated in design, or one that was intended to be an ornament to the town in
contradistinction to one which was utilitarian in purpose. He considered Greenway's
fountain to be unnecessary, for a simple pump could have lifted the water
quite well; and the carved stone obelisk, provided at a cost of LIZO, to him served
no more useful purpose than the milestones that had cost 15s. each.8
It is not our place to follow Bigge in his wanderings through the maze of facts
-political, social, and economic-that the inquiry uncovered, fascinating as they
all are. His interference with buildings is alone quite enough to hold our interest.
At the factory at Parramatta he caught Greenway seeking to use a geometrical
stair and ordered him to dispense with it and substitute "a plain one of wood".
Greenway's remarks at this point have not come down to us, which seems a pity.
Bigge pontificated that "excepting the rustic work of the basement: storey I did
not observe any attempts at unnecessary decoration", so on this point the architect
seems to have escaped.'

On the whole, Greenway was well treated in Bigge's official Report of 1822.
The Commissioner spoke of the lighthouse as being very creditable to the taste of
Mr Greenway; he pointed out that the defects in many buildings were caused by
the want of architectural knowledge in design and construction before Greenway's
arrival; he showed that Greenway introduced a better style of architecture, and
that he improved the quality of workmen and workmanship.'

The Report officially stated that "Mr Greenway's architectural skill has been the
means of introducing into buildings of the Colony greater celerity and better
taste than had previously prevailed. The ornamental style in which some of them
have been finished cannot in fairness be made a charge against Mr Greenway."'2
The last sentence, of course, was an oblique cut at Macquarie. In point of fact, with
some buildings this charge could well and truly be laid at Greenways door, notably
the Government Stables.

Bigge's own excursions into the field of building were ridiculous. From being
the important Commissioner he turned into a dithering amateur in an art to which
he had nothing to contribute except political conceit, which carried with it power
to have his nonsensical orders obeyed.

The laying of the foundations of what was to be St Andrew's Cathedral he
stopped-and, from his point of view, quite rightly-on the score of expense and
the more urgent need for other types of buildings. As if the size of this projected
cathedral was not alone enough to horrify Bigge, Greenway carefully explained
that round about was to be a grand quadrangle so laid out that it would be surrounded
by public buildings all "in a classical style, on a level base, making a whole
as grand a square as any in Europe".13 Bigge apparently thought it was really time
he took a hand, and he ordered that the law courts, which had been started at the
top of I h g Street, should be changed to a small church, which would replace the
cathedral. The school next door he later ordered to be changed to law courts,
necessitating a new site and plan for the school. Greenway was able to keep track
of this architectural hop-scotch, but nevertheless he protested about the lack of
decision and about the crowding together of these buildings. He was right in his
objections, and it is indeed unfortunate that the present Supreme Court blocks the
western view of St James's Church, King street. These last two buildings are both
on the axis through the centre line of Hyde Park Barracks, showing how Greenway
strove to keep order amongst chaotic instructions.

St James's Church is a very fine building by any standards (24, 25, 26). It is
interesting to notice that, being a town church, it was designed in a more sophisticated
manner than Greenway's churches in country towns. As he had nave, tower,
spire, and monumental porches to give rhythm to the massing of the church, he
abandoned the direct proportioning of elements that we saw in the elevations of
the country churches and Hyde Park Barracks. The system of proportions does
operate at St James's Church, but in a very much more subtle form.

St James's has been altered several times, but as Greenway originally designed
it (27) it was a simple building with a rectangular nave 120 feet 9 inches long and
42 feet 6 inches wide, measured internally. At first the altar stood inside a circular
railing on the floor of the nave towards the east end. The nave floor rests on a stone vaulted
crypt-the only known example of this feature in Colonial work.

The nave, before alteration, was as simple as that of St Matthew's, Windsor, and always
had a gallery, but this was to change its shape several times during the course of
eighty years. Since the church was not fitted out sufficiently to allow divine service
to be conducted until 1824, the interior furnishings were done by somebody other
than Greenway. In assessing the value of his work it should be noted that rarely
were his designs completely finished under his own supervision.

The extremely good external appearance of St James's has a similarity to that
of the country churches, but is is distinguished by the two Classical porches, built
of stone, with Doric columns, tryglyphed entablature, and "correct" pediments.
The tower is very finely proportioned, with a copper-sheathed spire whose height
is almost exactly equal to that of the tower below. The walls are of sandstock bricks
in lime mortar bound together by stone string courses, with red rubbing bricks to
all the arches. The piers between the nave windows are very large, being g feet long
and nearly 5 feet through at the thickest part. This vast bulk of brickwork was

necessary because Greenway could not get all the skilled bricklayers he wanted,
and, of necessity, the best bricklayers had to build the outer skins of the piers,
leaving the unskilled labourers to fill in the internal cores with inferior brickwork.ls
Many alterations have been made to the church from time to time, commencing
with the vestries with their small stone porches, which were added to the east end
in 1834. In 1846 the gallery was enlarged to run the f d length of the church on the
north side, and the pulpit was moved to the centre of the nave against the south
wall. This pulpit was an extremely high one, so that the pastor when delivering his
sermon was half-way between the ground and gallery floors.

In 1893 the semicircular sanctuary and raised chancel floor were added, and the
service was again conducted along the east-west axis. At the same time the broaches
were added to the spire and the whole was re-sheeted with copper. A new door
was made in the base of the tower and covered by a small portico to match those of
the vestries.17 It is unfortunate that a new stair and rooms were added to the south
side of the tower, for this is the only architectural atrocity that has been committed
on the exterior of the church. All the other additions have been made with taste
and in such sympathy with the original design that Greenway's ideas have been
improved, rather than abused.

In 1893 the church was in so ruinous a state that extensive repairs had to include
the laying down of new floors; removal of defective brickwork and stonework and
replacement of large areas; complete rebuilding of the north portico; rebuilding
of the roof trusses; re-slating of the roof; replacement of the eaves linings, gutters,
and ceilings; and the putting in of new windows. The spire was out of plumb and
had to be straightened and secured with steel joists let into the brickwork of the
tower. The broaches were added to give additional bracing to the central mast of
the spire. A list so formidable as the foregoing will show just how far a building can
decay if proper maintenance work is not carried out regularly.

The Supreme Court, next door to St James's, can hardly be called a Greenway
building at all, for others took over its construction before it was half erected and
introduced changes which completely altered his design, causing the sensitive
Greenway great artistic pain28 Traces of his hand can be seen in the window treatments
and the recessed panels in the walls, but all that is left of his Doric portico,
which was built on the Elizabeth Street side, is the mark where the former pediment
rested against the brickwork.

The Georgian school was built on the opposite side of Elizabeth Street, and since
it was designed under the watchful, parsimonious eye of Mr Bigge himself, it was
as simple a building as could be imagined (20). It remained on the site until 1926,
having been used as a school for almost exactly a century. Greenway's roof was
not very good, because in 1833 tenders were called for taking it off the building
and putting on a new one.

As Greenway's market house was altered more during construction than were
his law courts, he always hated the sight of the finished building, and said so in
vitriolic print more than once.20 This building, which stood on the site of the Queen
Victoria Markets, Sydney, was later changed into a police office (08).

On 24th September 1820 Bigge sent to Greenway a list containing seventeen
items of buildings that appeared to him to be needed, including a water-supply for
Sydney and sewers for the whole town. Greenway was to be concerned with but
few buildings in the list, which, incidentally, did not include any mention of the
courthouse at Windsor. Bigge left Sydney on 12th February 1821, and, since the
Windsor contract was not signed until 30th October of that year, it is just possible
that the courthouse was one building of which Bigge had no knowledge?'
'
The courthouse is not one of Greenway's most successful elevations, but the
building is well suited to its purpose, which it serves to this day (28, 29). It is fortunate
in having been spared alteration and gross mutilation, but it has been ruined
in appearance by hard and crude cement render, which has obliterated all the soft
texture of the old brickwork. The latter was beginning to admit damp, but a worse
solution of the problem could not have possibly been found. The courtroom, however,
still presents the very rare sight of an unspoilt Greenway interior.

The original building contract for the courthouse still exists, and is an interesting
document. Greenway signed as a witness and Macquarie endorsed this agreement,
in which William Cox, the builder, offered to complete the building in fifteen
months for the sum of A18oo. The most remarkable feature of the contract is that
it was settled for A18oo-no extras! It must be, therefore, one of the few building
contracts since the world began that finished up exactly at the tender price.

The specification annexed to the document is so superbly brief that modem
specification writers should be consumed with envy. For instance, all the directions
to plasterers are included in the sentence, "The large room to be well stuccoed and
all other rooms to be well plastered." That is all. No indication of thickness of
plaster, or mixture of ingredients, of finish, of cornices and ceilings, or of method
of application. Perhaps it is just as well that the body of the contract directed that
the work be done under the inspection of Mr F. Greenway "according to his
direction and subject to his approbation". There is no mention of bills of quantities,
but we know it was Greenway's habit to take out very accurate bills, and we can
only hope he did so in this case.

During the Bigge inquiry relations between Macquarie and his architect had
become strained. With his usual insensitivity to the nuances involved in such a
situation, Greenway had done much, unintentionally, to harm the Governor's
case, in consequence of which there creeps into the records a vice-regal coolness
that had not existed before. Open references were made to Greenway's "dilatory
habits", indolence, and neglect of his duties.23 Much has been made of these statements,
in which there would appear to be a grain of truth; but Greenway's case
has never been put forward. The facts are that he was doing far more work in a
short time than any man should, a state of affairs that resulted inevitably in artistic
exhaustion, aggravated, as time went on, by the emotional stress of trying to make
sense of the nonsensical instructions of an uninformed but determined Commissioner.
The pattern is a familiar one: that of a man doing conscientious work which
required concentration and inspiration, and being continually badgered to produce -
works of arts with the regularity of a machine.

Whatever the causes, Greenway's position was deteriorating, and he made the
situation impossible for himself by demanding fees of over L11,ooo for the buildings
he had designed whilst in government employ.84 He-a convict- had been
given an official position, had had a rise in salary and had been emancipated, and
had been promised a grant of eight hundred acres and a small herd of cattle, and yet
he was making. demands that would only have been reasonable if the Government '7
had approached him as a suppliant instead of as a benefactor. He persisted in his
claims with vigour for many years, and the embers of his moral indignation would
have been fanned to blazing point by the fact that his immediate successor was to
receive three thousand acres of good land and a total of A2320 16 6d. for two
years' inferior work as Colonial Architect.

Just before Macquarie sailed for England in February 1822, a violent quarrel
took place between the Governor and the architect who had worked together to
produce so much in five years, with the result that they parted on terms of hatred
and animosity. Greenway's actions had been ungrateful and foolish, but worse
was to follow.

Governor Brisbane, who succeeded Macquarie, confirmed Greenway in his
position but imposed conditions which the architect accepted, although he persisted
in his extraordinary claim for payment for work done under Governor
Macqarie.This claim was backed up by a detailed list that settles clearly which
buildings he designed. As he was making a claim for fees, he included every project
with which he had been connected and gave details of each. In a further claim for
work done in Brisbane's time, there are two items which reveal themselves as later
additions to this list, namely the stores at Parramatta and the hospital at Liverpool.
The stores were destroyed about 1946; the hospital still exists (30, 31). This building
is generally attributed to Greenway, but the evidence is no more than circumstantial.

That Greenway did design a hospital is a fact easily established, but it is
more difficult to prove that the present building is entirely his.
He designed one version of the hospital whilst Macquarie was Governor, and
another version under Governor Brisbane, who took office in December 1821;
since Greenway was not working on government buildings after 1822 his second
design must have been produced in that year.

Captain Dumeresque, who was Chief Engineer in 1828, reported that the roof
had been put on the building in 1825, and that he had carried on the work since.
This officer stated: "This building I am led to understand was originally determined
on by Governor Macquarie, but the plan, upon which it is now being built, was
approved and commenced by Sir Thomas Brisbane. . . ."

Between the expiry of Greenway's tenure of office and the end of 1825 there
were to be two new civil architects, and no architect could have had such an important
project as the hospital under his direction without putting his hand to it,
as is evidenced by the fact that the building was built twice. Greenway's foundation
walls that were laid in 1822 were later condemned, entirely dug up, and taken away.
A new start was made, the brick walls rising under the supervision of another
architect.

The present building has a stone tablet on the front bearing the date 1825, which,
from the foregoing, was neither the starting date nor the date of final completion.
In the Mitchell Library there exists an original manuscript plan, manifestly a
working drawing, which is endorsed: "Plans and Elevations of the General Hospital
Liverpool". The plan is not dated, but is drawn on paper watermarked "J.
Whatman 1825". This drawing paper was made in London, and certainly could
not have arrived in Sydney before the end of 1825, and possibly not before 1826,
so that drawings were being made of the hospital at a very late date, and if Greenway's
original design was followed it is hardly likely that it came through all these
vicissitudes without alteration. The existing plan would appear to be the only copy,
because it was in use in the Colonial Architect's office until 1854, when it was
adapted, by means of a small drawing pasted on to it, to serve as the working
drawing for some minor alterations to the hospital.

The old building of the Liverpool hospital (now a technical college) is one of
the finest Colonial buildings remaining to us. It suffered little mutilation before its
conversion, the chief one-begging Commissioner Bigge's pardon-being the
lopping off of the lower flight of the geometrical stair and the substitution of a
plain stair of wood. The north and south wings are of much later date, and, although
they were originally of pleasing design sympathetic to that of the main
building, they have since been altered in a poor manner.

The 1825 building, however, has never failed to captivate
the beholder. Again, like all Greenway's buildings-if it is a Greenway building it
depends entirely on sweet proportions and excellent materials for its appeal.
The brickwork in this building is particularly fine, and is offset nicely by the stone
trim used. The usual bright red rubbing bricks form the arches. The ground-floor
arcade is particularly effective, for it has a break in the rhythm of the arches at the
central entrance, while masses of unpierced brickwork at the ends serve to stabilize
the composition. The loggia on the east side of the building gives general access to
the ground-floor rooms.

The first-floor plan follows almost exactly that of the ground floor. The two
main cross walls are z feet 7 inches thick, and within that thickness they contain a
mass of flues and ventilation ducts, although many of the old fireplaces which they
served have apparently been sealed off.

The tower has been altered at some time, the upper cornice and the helmet
dome being added. This upper work is shown in an old but undated working
drawing in the Mitchell Library, but, since the material used was concrete, the work
must have been done in fairly recent times. The present lodges and gates to the
hospital date from the same time. The original design of the tower shown (32) is
taken from the earlier working drawing.

Soon after Macquarie's departure, a new Chief Engineer, Major Ovens, was
appointed-a man with no sympathy for Greenway's point of view and a positive
dislike for him personally. A Board of Works was appointed to supervise government
buildings, being constituted of men who were not only unsympathetic but
sometimes actively hostile to the architect.za As a professional man cannot exist
in such an atmosphere it is not surprising that in November 1822 Ovens wrote a
letter pointing out the general unsatisfactory quality of Greenway's work, and
saying that "I have not myself derived the least assistance from the individual
mentioned". On 15th November 1822 Major Goulburn, the Colonial Secretary
for New South Wales, wrote to Greenway to inform him that &om that date his
services were "dispensed with".30

And so it ended. His discharge anticipated only in time the recommendation of
Bigge's Report that the office of Colonial Architect be discontinued.
Greenway was in a poor plight. He had only a small private practice, for he
had made enemies outside, as well as inside, the public service. Other architects
were now at work in Sydney and Greenway's commissions were to be few.
On 19th July 1822 an advertisement appeared in the Sydney Gazette: "Wanted
immediately, a person to Contract for the Erection of a Monumental Tomb, in the
New Burial Ground, over the remains of the late Government Printer according to
a Design by Mr Greenway." This was George Howe's tomb (33) in the Sandhills
Cemetery, on the site of what is now Central Railway Station, Sydney. Although
the tomb was neat enough in detail, it is manifest that Greenway's architectural
skill was not overstrained here.

Over several years he advertised inviting tenders for small jobs, and for work
being done on a large house for R. Campbell, Junior, in BIigh Street. This house
later became the Union Club, and when the old buildings were pulled down and
replaced the only Greenway building remaining-it survived for five decades
(though it was shockingly mutilated) before it too was demolished-was the servants'
barracks (34, 35). The Campbell house survived into the photographic era,
so we know that it was a large building of clean Regency lines, having rather a
lumpy general massing, and a bow front to the centre portion, with a large and
correct cured Doric colonnade. The servants' barracks showed Greenway in his
more consciously Classical mood, though the degree of mutilation that the building
suffered forced the substitution of conjecture for knowledge where portions of the
fabric had vanished completely. However, the unusual and monumental treatment .
of the entrance was quite traceable, and the south-west end remained in its entirety.

The layout of the whole group of buildings that went to make up the Campbell
house is important, for it shows us how Greenway handled asymmetrical planning
(36). We tend to think of him as a rigid Classicist, especially in his planning. We
have seen him in that mood at Hyde Park Barracks, and the descriptions he left of
his projected cathedral square were those of a pure Classic design, but here in a
town mansion we can see that he was thoroughly capable, when dealing with dissimilar
and unbalanced units, of welding them competently into a satisfactory
whole. This group of buildings must have been architecturally very powerful
when it was in its prime.

He did a few other small buildings including a "cottage ornee" on Bunker's
Hill, the old name for The Rocks area. This shows how his artistic integrity had
been suborned, because a "cottage ornee" was a fashionable piece of copyism of old
thatched cottages that was so sentimental as to be cloying. In the middle of tile
twentieth century the decadence is perpetuated by the indefensible practice of
making china tea-pots and honey-jars in imitation of "olde-worlde" cottages.
In 1827 Greenway had hopes that he would be in charge of a new Government
House, but the scheme proved abortive.33

No buildings designed by Greenway after 1828 have so far been traced.
In 1823 he took up his grant of eight hundred acres, choosing very poor ground
on the right bank of the Hunter River, just below where Raymond Terrace now
stands. Although good ground in the neighbourhood had not been taken up, including
the site of Raymond Terrace itself, he chose part of the Tarro Swamp,
more than half of which is still sour marsh land. He has left his name on the map in
the form of Greenway's Creek, but this is only a miserable ditch through a dreary
swamp.24

In 1835 he again advertised professionally in terms that indicated that he was in
grave financial straits.35 In the same year he published his essay on "Colonial Architecture",
in which he again raked over the cold embers of all the old quarrels, and
listed his works, which certainly are impressive in number. His explanation of his
fights with dishonest men and his pleas for humanitarian treatment of workmen
are the best of reading. His summing up is worth repetition: "I have generally
found it that people consider that government and the public may be duped and
plundered without crime: that every man has a right to do so who can do it
gently.''

In 1836 he attempted to form a company to construct the circular quay which
he had, in 1820, designed for the shores of Sydney Cove. Even in his public
announcement he inveighed against Bigge, who, he said, had ruined his important
architectural projects. The wound must have been deep, because the little architect's
spite reached back across the intervening sixteen years to strike at the long since departed
Commissioner.

In that year Greenway was still in the old house in George Street North, having
held it by questionable means against the Government's claims all those years. In
1837 he was on the Hunter River, and he died there in September, being buried in
a grave that has never been located.38

And so passed the first great architect of Australia. As a man he was a queer
jumble of conflicting forces; as an architect he was of the first rank. He put integrity
of design and building before all human considerations, and by that means inevitably
created many enemies-but many beautiful buildings. His enemies have gone:
his buildings remain.

This section is based on the excellent book Early Australian Architects and Their Work (Angus & Robertson, Syd, 1954); Herman, Morton, (1901-1983). Illustrated and Decorated by the Author.