Young Griffo
By Steve Hile
()
About this ebook
IN THE LATE 19TH CENTURY, THE DANK STREETS OF SYDNEY WERE CONTROLLED BY PUSH GANGS...AND NO ONE PUSHED BACK...
The top of these gangs was the Greens push and they were led by a tough bare-knuckle fighter by the name of Larry Foley.
One of their pastimes was running illegal underground prize-fights. Mr Foley became a pione
Steve Hile
Steve Hile has been interested in sports and writing most of his life and through the Young Griffo story, has been able to bring the two together. He has a diploma in sports journalism and after having published articles in newspapers, has now realized his passion in completing his first book.Steve lives in western Sydney with his wife and three children and has always been involved in sports, both competing and following. His interest was sparked by this story of one of Australia's most incredible athletes and he is excited to share the first biography on Albert Griffiths, known as Young Griffo, to be written and published in Australia.
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Young Griffo - Steve Hile
YOUNG GRIFFO
Young Griffo © 2022 Steve Hile.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This is a work of nonfiction. The events and conversations in this book have been set down to the best of the author’s ability, although some names and details may have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals. Every effort has been made to trace or contact all copyright holders.
The publishers will be pleased to make good any omissions or rectify any mistakes brought to their attention at the earliest opportunity.
Printed in Australia
Cover design by Shawline Publishing Group Pty Ltd
Images in this book are the copyright of Shawline Publishing Group Pty Ltd
Illustrations within this book are the copyright of Shawline Publishing Group Pty Ltd
First Printing: May 2022
Shawline Publishing Group Pty Ltd
www.shawlinepublishing.com.au
Paperback ISBN- 9781922701817
Ebook ISBN- 9781922701862
YOUNG GRIFFO
STEVE HILE
I would like to dedicate this book to a great friend of mine, Andrew Nicholson. Andrew was a good writer himself and has a published book titled ‘Weird Australia’. Unfortunately Andrew passed away before he got to see any of this book but I hope you are proud of my work my friend.
Acknowledgements
I would like to acknowledge the tremendous help from Raymond Swanwick and the countless times I have annoyed him with questions for this book. Ray has studied Albert Griffiths (Young Griffo) for over fifty years and made at least ten trips to America to aid his research. Raymond also wrote the first book on Les Darcy here in Australia but unfortunately didn’t get to finish his book on Young Griffo.
I would also like to thank my loving wife and family for their patience and support during the writing of this book.
The greatest boxer? Several eminent boxers with whom I have talked, and who saw the lad in action, give the palm to Young Griffo, the Australian ex-larikan, who amazed eye-witnesses with his astonishing abilities in and out of the ring.
~ W.Buchanan Taylor
What Do You Know About Boxing? 1947
CHAPTER 1
On the Rocks With the Push
As men and women gather, relishing a nice cold ale or wine, the sweet sound of an acoustic guitar in the background, lightly engaged in conversation whilst pondering over ordering the Grain-fed Sirloin or the Pan- fried Salmon, few of them would fully appreciate the history of Sydney’s oldest pub that they were currently occupying, the Fortune of War Hotel at the Rocks in Sydney.
Today, thousands of Sydney siders and tourists can enjoy open-air markets, boutique shops with handmade clothing, delicious food purchased from street stalls, and pubs and restaurants by the Harbourside city of the Rocks. There is also the Holy Trinity Church, the Museum of Contemporary Art with local and international exhibitions, and accommodation ranging from backpackers’ hostels to luxury hotels. The magnificent cobblestone laneways separate other landmarks including, the Cadman’s cottage, the local Police Station and many colonial style buildings and terraces, and sandstone homes which show no signs that there were ever any plans to tear the whole place down at the start of the twentieth century, due to years and years of neglect, terrible sewage and a dreadful plague. Then came the slow rebuild, up until 1923, when the first plans for Sydney’s Harbour bridge took a chunk of land from the Rocks. It wouldn’t be until several decades later when a £10 Million plan for a massive ‘facelift’ was put through from two construction companies to the Government and development continued from then to the unique Harbourside town enjoyed by all today.
The Rocks’ history dates back to its establishment, around 1788. Since then, the area has gone through some radical changes over the years with the restructuring of houses, streets and other dwellings. The area was originally named Tallawoladah by the Cadigal people and the houses were first made vernacular style, with thatched roofs. Very steep slopes of the land fall would often cause issues to this style of dwelling. Heavy rainfall washed soil and gravel away, leaving the huge boulders and rocks of the suburb still stable, though isolated, hence the changing of the name of the area to ‘The Rocks’. Occasionally, streets and all would be washed away but those first ‘streets’ were basically just narrow tracks that would wind in between huts or small houses.
In 1810, The wider lanes were turned into streets and named by Governor Macquarie including- Harrington, Cambridge, Cumberland, Argyle, Gloucester and Essex Streets. As time progressed, so did a gradual rebuilding of the Rocks. The natural stone that was in abundance was predominately used for the infrastructure and is the main reason these amazing, solid structures are still so prevalent today.
In 1823, the population was approximately 1,200 and comprised mostly convicts and their families, as well as large numbers of Aboriginals that had been showing up and settling since 1790. Together, a community developed and more houses were built, a church was built in 1805 and had a better gathering, shops of all types of business opened and tradesmen now received plenty of work. Gangs of convicts were put to work paving more solid streets and eventually cut through the heart of the Rocks and connected Argyle Street to Sydney Cove, then Darling Harbour and the first stage of what would become Circular Quay. Before this work, residents had to either go the long way around Dawes Point or engage in a tough walk, that consisted of steep alleyways and arduous flights of stairs, to get to the other side to Millers Point.
From 1851, the gold rush began in Australia and the population grew from there.
Over 40 wharves would be chock full of boats with goods from overseas, stock arriving from all over the colony that was to be repacked and exported. People from other countries were now arriving on boats too, as the waterside suburb was about to be swarmed. This was how the majority of immigrants would arrive in Australia during the 19th century, bringing with it a mix of men, women, and children from all over the world. The majority were from England, Ireland and Scotland. In later year the Chinese would arrive too once word spread about the gold rush. Some of these migrants stayed and built in the rocks and a demand was in place for more housing. The houses were sometimes separated by timber fences and surrounded by gardens. The Circular quay project was completed later that decade and bridges, known as the Argyle bridges were then built too. A bridge for Gloucester Street was completed in 1862, Cumberland Street in 1864 and Princes Street in 1867-68.
Boats would be unloaded quickly and then re-stocked with Australia’s export items. This included wool, supplying Britain with over 6,000 tonnes a year. Other docks and wharves would operate in order to supply sandalwood and timber to China, whale and vegetable oils, copper, lead, wine and even horses to countries such as India. This was a massive help to Australia, developing from what was once considered a convict settlement, into a free colony and now a stronger, more developed part of the British Empire. Australia’s imports had then become more luxury items such as soaps, candles, glassware, and clothing. These were mass produced in England and local industries in Australia, simply could not compete.
The demographic of The Rocks was slightly poorer than most, and it became a working-class town, made up mostly of ex-convicts turned good with a mix of newer immigrants now working as shopkeepers, dressmakers, coal jumpers, labourers, sailors and many tradesmen and women. The housewives and children would usually stay at home and the workmen had started a drinking, gambling and sporting culture. The Chinese had ventured down to a now accessible George Street and started mixing in a place what would be soon known as Chinatown.
Closer to the turn of the century, during the 1870s and 80s, The Rocks turned into a particularly violent place. This is probably the town’s most well-known and talked about era, although perhaps not so well-known in contemporary Sydney. The Rocks had become infamous throughout parts of the world for a very colourful past, through its lawless and ruthless ways, with ample street women for added value. Gangs controlled the streets of Sydney and the Rocks push gang, and particularly the green division, was the most fearsome of them all. It didn’t matter whether their prey was big or small, solo or in a large group, rich or poor—all out about once the lights went out were fair game and sailors, drunken sailors especially, well, the gangs hated them, with a passion!
The push gangs were not fearful of the Police, well certainly not like they should be, and the Rocks area had become particularly wild and dangerous as its own underworld was created through gang attacks and general street violence. The Rocks had a fair mix of prostitutes, drunken sailors, two-bit crims, petty thieves and plenty of other shady characters also wandering the streets. Once the sun went down, the Rocks turned dark and dingy, with some gas lights on tall posts that did their job of lighting up the main streets, but the laneways, back alleys and most of the parks were pretty daunting. Once it turned dark, every family around the area knew that children were to be brought inside and It became common knowledge in Sydney town, that after a certain time of night you didn’t go North of the corner of Pitt and George Streets unless you were looking for trouble.
The following is a poem written by famous Australian poet Henry Lawson which reintegrates the viscous times of the Push gang, particularly in the 1870s and 80s;
THE CAPTAIN OF THE PUSH:- Henry Lawson
As the night was falling slowly down on city,town and Bush,
From a slum in Jones’s Alley slipped the captain of the Push;
And he scooped towards the North,and he scolded towards the South,
As he hooked his little fingers in the corners of his mouth,
Then his whistle,loud and piercing,woke the echoes of The Rocks
.
And a dozen ghouls came sloping round the corners of the blocks.
There was a nought to rouse their anger; yet the oath that each one swore
Seemed less fit for publication than the one that went before.
For they spoke the gutter language with the easy flow that comes
Only to the men whose childhood knew the gutters and the slums.
Then they spat in turn, and halted; and the one that came behind,
Spitting fiercely at the pavement, called on Heaven to strike him blind.
Let me first describe the captain, bottle-shouldered,pale and thin:
He was just the beau-ideal of a Sydney larrikin.
E’ en his hat was most suggestive of the place where Pushes live,
With a Gallows- tilt that no-one save a larrikin,can give;
And the coat,a little shorter than the fashion might require,
Showed a (more or less uncertain) lower part of this attire.
That which tailors know as trousers
—known to him as blooming bags
—
Hanging loosely from his person, swept, with tattered ends, the flags;
And he had a pointed sternpost to the boots that peeped below
(Which he laced up from the centre of the nail of his great toe),
And he wore his shirt uncollared, and the tie correctly wrong;
But I think his vest was shorter than should be on one so long.
Then the captain crooked his finger at the stranger on the kerb,
Whom he qualified politely with an adjective and a verb.
And he begged the Gory Bleeders that they wouldn’t interrupt
Till he gave an introduction—it was painfully abrupt—
"Here’s the bleedin’ push, my covey—here’s a fucker from the Bush!
Strike me dead,he wants to join us!" said the captain of the push.
Said the stranger: "I am nothing but a bushy and a dunce;
But I read about the Bleeders in the Weekly Gasbag once:
Sitting lonely in the humpy when the wind began to whoosh,
How I longed to share the dangers and the pleasures of the push!
Gosh! I hate the swells and good uns—I could burn ‘em in their beds;
I am with you if you’ll have me, and I’ll break their blazing heads."
Now, look here,
exclaimed the captain to the stranger from the bush,
"Now look here—suppose a feller was to split upon the push,
Would you lay for him and down him, even if the traps were round?
Would you lay him out and kick him to a jelly on the ground?
Would you jump upon the nameless- kill, or cripple him, or both?
Speak? or else I’ll—SPEAK! The stranger answered,
My kerlonial oath!"
Now, look here,
exclaimed the captain to that stranger from the bush,
"Now, look here-before the Bleeders let you come and join the push,
Would you smash a bleedin’ Bobby if you got the blank alone?
Would you stoush a swell or Chinkie-split the garret with a stone?
Would you have a ‘Moll’ to keep you-like to swear off work for good?"
Yes, my oath!
replied the stranger. My kerlonial oath! I Would!
Now, look here,
exclaimed the captain to the stranger from the bush,
"Now look here-before the Bleeders let you come and join the push.
You must prove that you’re a blazer- you must prove that you have grit,
Worthy of a Gory Bleeder- you must show your form a bit—
Take a rock and smash that winder!" and the stranger, nothing loth,
Took a rock and—smash! The Bleeders muttered My kerlonial oath!
So they swore him in, and found him sure of aim and light of heel,
And his only fault, if any, lay in excessive zeal.
He was good at throwing metal, but I chronicle with pain,
That he jumped upon a victim, damaging the watch and chain,
Ere the Bleeders had secured them; yet the captain of the push,
Swore a dozen oaths in favour of the stranger from the bush.
Late next morn the captain, rising, hoarse and thirsty, from this lair,
Called the newly-feathered Bleeder; but the stranger wasn’t there!
Quickly going through the pockets of his bloomin’ bags, he learned
That the stranger had been through him for the stuff his moll had earned;
And the language that he uttered I should scarcely like to tell
(Stars! and notes of exclamation!! blank and dash will do as well).
That same night the captain’s signal women the echoes of The Rocks,
Brought the Gory Bleeders sloping through the shadows of the blocks;
And they swore the stranger’s action was a blood-escaping shame,
While they waited for the nameless- but the nameless never came.
And the Bleeders soon forgot him; but the captain of the push
Still is laying round, in ballast, for the stranger from the bush
.
CHAPTER 2
Happy as Larry
The thick smog from the ships on the docks and the lack of sun made it hazy and hard to see too far in front on this typically miserable and cold winter morning at the Rocks area of Sydney. The dock hands worked away unloading shipping containers and sorting the goods into piles for their employer, hoping for a wage to take home at the end of another hard-working week.
It was the early hours on a Friday, when two hard looking men walked past the docks. They gave a quick nod to some of the dock workers and then walked up a cobblestone laneway which continued up the relatively steep hill that followed. The dock workers were hard, labouring types, doing what was required to put food on the tables for their families. Unloading, sorting and restocking goods was thriving work in Sydney, and these guys would usually be at it up to six days a week.
Despite the massive number of workmen in and around these docks, the few that responded in kind to the nods from the two men walking by, as well as most other workers here, had great respect and were somewhat fearful of these two men. The two men were on route during one of their regular walks, patrolling through the Rocks and surrounding areas. They would stroll through at random hours during the day and night to scope the goings on and check all was in order in ‘their domain’.
The first of these two was in his late 20s, early 30s. He had a head bigger than most and it was completely shaven. The scar that ran down the right-hand side of his face was probably only a third of the length of the one on the back of his head but was still enough to show that he was either very clumsy or he had taken part in one or two wild fights fending off knives, glass or the like. His brick outhouse physique, along with the way his large overcoat wrapped over his shoulders and his general demeanour, probably made the latter of the two options the more backable choice. Dino worked as a minder and bouncer of