Get comfy, this’ll be a long one.
Sometimes, it’s not so much about what a place has become as it is about how it got that way. This is certainly true in the case of Auburn’s Melton Hotel. Ordinarily I, like any passer-by, would take one look at the Melton and think ‘I value my life too much to go in there,’ subsequent to the instinctual thought of ‘Just another pub.’ Situated along Parramatta Road at the corner of Station Street, there’s just nothing that sticks out about the hotel in any way; not even the jovially named ‘Hey Hey Kebab’ adjoining gives cause for anything more than a mild double-take.
So why, dear reader, am I subjecting you to this dry account of a seemingly humdrum pub? Well, what piqued my interest (as I’m sure it will yours) was the simple fact that the street running parallel to the hotel’s side of the block is called Melton Street South.
This got me thinking: why was the pub named the Melton Hotel if it wasn’t actually on Melton Street? Clearly it was time for some field detective work, because I knew if I didn’t solve the mystery it would bother me all day. I couldn’t find anything about anyone named Melton in the area’s history (it’s not even clear to historians why the area itself is named Silverwater), but I had a feeling if they were honouring some local hero, they wouldn’t just name a pub and a street after them. First port of call: the Atlas of the Suburbs of Sydney, ca 1885-1890.
This map of Auburn shows that neither Station Street nor Melton Street South existed at the time. Today, they’re located between the map’s Stubbs Street and Sutherland Street (now Silverwater Road).
Next: time to research the pub itself. Thankfully, the pub in question has an illustrious history; according to the hoteliers, its license dates back to 1811 (when it was owned by Samuel Haslem, of Haslem’s Creek fame), attached to an inn located not too far from the current site. In 1877 a former jockey, Fred Martineer, became the licensee of the Melton Hotel and held that position for over 30 years, firmly establishing the pub as a favourite of the area’s myriad meat workers.
Tragedy struck in 1914 when, after too many cases like this…
…the public was swept up by a need to reinstill a sense of public decency via a series of local option acts. The acts enforced a six o’clock closing time for pubs and resulted in 293 hoteliers losing their licenses, including Martineer. Despite the pub’s closure and with flagrant disregard to the after hours prohibition, he continued to live in what became known as the ‘old Melton Hotel’ until his death in 1918:
The Old Melton had been named sometime prior to 1895, when it appeared on that year’s list of Hotel Licensees. It’s this hotel that sat on the corner of Melton Street South (then Melton Road), so from this we can assume the street was named after the pub. But, like me, the Martineers couldn’t let it go. In 1929, the Martineers built the NEW Melton Hotel at its current location, which at the time seemed to take up the entire section of Parramatta Road between Melton Street and Station Street.
That’s all well and good, but today it’s a very different story. Nothing remains of the Old Melton, the New Melton is nowhere near the corner of Melton Street, and there’s a string of dingy shops between it and its namesake street. What happened?
Discounting the obvious greed associated with subletting the Melton Street side of the block to said dingy shops, the true answer seems to lie in the Melton Hotel’s parking lot. The hyperbolic claim of “stacks & stacks of parking” is betrayed by the truncated nature of the car park itself. Here it is, seen from Station Street:
Further encroachment into the lot reveals a flimsily constructed wall on the Melton Street side. Hmm…
And a gap in the northern end of that wall. HMM…
The gap leads out to Melton Street, whereupon you’re immediately facing a school. This sign:
…is all that remains of this side’s former life as an entrance/exit to the Melton’s car park, and indeed of the Melton’s connection to the street it inspired. A closer look at the other side of the fence backs this deep bit of insight up.
The kerb is clearly a lighter shade of cement, indicating the spot where the driveway used to be. The two bushes are doing a laughable job of hiding the wooden fencing that blocks off those driveways.
Even stranger is the choice to keep these former barriers, and simply cut them where the new fence intersects.
One of the more interesting aspects of all of this is the sign that once guided thirsty drivers into the parking lot. Hidden by overgrown branches and worn away by years of neglect, there’s no real reason for the hoteliers to have left it there – least of all what it’s advertising. After all, if it hadn’t been for the sign, I never would have stumbled upon this madness in the first place. No, for me, the real gold is the sign’s reverse side:
Remarkably well-preserved, the sign advertises Tooheys 2.2, which was an attempt by Tooheys to introduce a light beer to their otherwise heavy range in the late 1980s.
While it would be nice to think that this was Tooheys doing its part to avoid another 1914 Local Option fiasco, the way the ad puts a jokey spin on drunken violence and employs a disturbing tagline clearly aimed at the breathalyser crowd suggests a more cynical set of motives. For better or worse, this didn’t take, and by 1995, 40 years after the Local Option acts were repealed, 2.2 was 6.0 feet under. It’s worth pointing out that 2.2 was supplanted in 1998 by Hahn Premium Light, which is now Australia’s top selling light beer…and owned by Tooheys. A fascinating trail of the significant episodes of 2.2’s short life can be found here (WORTH READING). I think the lesson here is don’t give your beer a name that invites terrible Richie Benaud impressions.
But back to the Melton. Also of note are the apparent remains of either a garbage can or a phone box (remember those?) located between the two driveways.
Let’s stop for just a second to process this. Regardless of whether this was in fact a garbage can which spent countless nights being chundered into by melting Meltonians, or a phone booth which spent its Friday and Saturday nights listening to endless pleas by hopelessly pissed pub patrons for their wives, girlfriends, parents or less drunk mates to come and pick them up, and then being chundered into, the fact remains that it was located BETWEEN the two driveways. How is this a spot for either of those objects which both appear as bright flames to drunken moths? The line for the phone alone would have been both long and drunkenly ignorant enough to queue across the nearest driveway. You can’t tell me this didn’t cause at least one clipped wing.
Even worse is the pub’s proximity to Auburn North Public School. Anyone foolish and drunk enough to ‘breathe easy’ and attempt to drive home via the Melton Street exit (or entrance, depending on the level of drunkenness) on a weekday afternoon ran the risk of knocking over a kid on their way home. If it didn’t happen or nearly happen, I’d be surprised.
With these reasons in mind, it’s easy to imagine just how and why the Melton would have had these driveways sealed up, thereby severing its ties to its own history. It’s also easy (and funny) to imagine particularly OCD and DUI pub patrons attempting to drive out of their usual exit and smashing the fence, otherwise why the need for the bushes and the potplants? Sure, the Melton could have chosen to seal up the Station Road driveways, which face the old Joyce Mayne complex, but it turns out that a child’s life is worth more than that of a shopper looking for bargain whitegoods. Who knew?
And all because some public spirited men didn’t know their limits and couldn’t hold their beer.
Of course, I could be wrong about everything, and I might owe both the Melton and overdrinkers everywhere an apology, but have a look at this:
You may have just read all that and be wondering ‘what was the point?’ or ‘where’s the remove bookmark button?’, but more inquisitive (or less demanding) readers may be wondering ‘What was so drastic that happened to Melton Road to cause it to be split into Melton Road South and Melton Road North?’
Next time, baby.
Should’ve had a kebab @ HeyHey. The best in the area!! And the pub itself is harmless enough.
I enjoyed that. I was connected via a facebook group called Lost Sydney. Are you on it/seen it? Have you seen My Darling Darlinghurst? I will now look at your other stuff. Thanks.
Yep, you should’ve had a Hey Hey Kebab – best kebabs around!
Also good to know that I’m not the only one that pours through old street directories and drives around looking for traces of old road alignments or remnants of old phone booths!
That was either the nicest or most sarcastic comment ever published on this blog.
Also, I think it must’ve been a trash can in the middle of the two old driveways at the Melton – neither my 1982 or 1987 UBD lists a payphone as being in that location
I happened to drive past the huge orange “Kennards” building while they were changing the billboard. Sorry for the quality…and I’ve never posted a pic on a blog so I hope this works! Loving this site btw 🙂
The Melton Hotel owned by my Great Great Grandfather Frederick Martineer was named after Frederick’s horse ‘Melton’ great steeplechaser.
hi Kim, I am a descendant of Fred Martineer and his wife Emily Hines. I am the great granddaughter of Evelyn Martineer and John Charles Bourke. I have an original photo of their wedding in 1900 kept by my grandmother. Thank you for the post you left about the Melton hotel. I have also researched further back to Henry Martineer ( Fred’s grandfather) who had a very interesting life, convict, married 3 times. Grave in old Parramatta cemetery. lots of information just google it. I also wanted to find information on his father. Louis le Bouche la Martiniere. I can’t find any more info than his wedding. But I am now going to look into Henry’ s brother and sisters. Happy family research. Lee Robertson 0418698534
My wife is
Amazing detective work!
Fascinating stuff ! I stumbled on this and found it very interesting from a nostalgic pov. I used to live on Adderley St as a kid in the 70s, just up from Melton St and behind the school yard. I lived through the demolition of houses on the other side of the street and spent a good chunk of my childhood roaming the (F4) construction sites. Can’t shed much light on the pub though – a little young to go venturing inside !
You people can’t be serious!? I just read a whole blog filled with negativity and judgmental assumptions.
For someone who is actually looking for some History on the Melton i found this to be very disappointing.
Personally I think you do owe the Melton an apology.
It’d be the first in a long, long line, Jennifer.
We have here from Michael a good insight into how the curious mind works – painstakingly, step by step to look at every detail and unravel it until it can’t go any further or finds the answer.
I call that a rare privilege – as Tony above say, fascinating stuff.
Jennifer above, with her political correctness looking for an apology (for precisely what?) perhaps doesn’t understand that Michael IS actually looking for history, and may well have found/will find it. His search is how discoveries are made.
Thank you for a most interesting investigation, Michael.
I used to live in Skarratt St. Auburn and my dad used to drive to the Melton on a Saturday afternoon, this is the mid 1960s, in his EK Holden station with mum and us. He would than buy the afternoon Sun newspaper get himself a beer and the rest of us a lemon squash and we would be made to sit there, in the car in the carpark, while he had a couple of beers and read the paper in the car. This pub is still so vivid in my mind.
I had my 5th birthday at the melton hotel then run by bob simpson,18 years later my engagement party then owned by sid hartman my mother ran the snack bar there till I was 26!
I’m old enough to remember the Melton st entrance to the Melton hotel car park.
My grandfather drank at The Melton from the late 1930’s until the early 1980’s
As a kid I sold newspapers in the hotel in the afternoon.
The kebab place used to be the hotel bottle shop.
Thought you may find this document interesting:
Thank you James really appreciate this as I’m a descendent of Frederick Martineer (great great grand daughter)