Page 21 - eMuse Vol.9 No.03_Classical

Cocky Bennett

Prince of Patrons
the Pub

TO THOSE LEFT BEHIND

We hear and read so many words of people lost in war,
of sailors, airmen, nurses, members of the army corps.
A sadness overcomes us all for those never to return,
and leaves their friends and families with lifetimes left to yearn.
We all applaud the many men and women who survived In days of old, many a seafaring captain seemed to have his par-
sadly bow our heads at times when recalling those who died. rot permanently perched on his shoulder. One would suspect it
Yet there were those who could not go to take part in the war, was welded there. Arguably Australia’s most famous parrot was
because of illness, special jobs, objections and lots more. a regular patron of Sydney’s Club House Hotel whenever his ship
In unison, our armies marched to cheers from passers-by docked during the 1870s and 80s .
their uniforms, so smartly worn, their heads held proudly high. He was not the prettiest bird of his species. This ugly, feather-
The men and women left behind helped all our lads survive less, grotesque example of the cockatoo species had a long twisted
they all had jobs, important ones, to keep the troops alive . beak which generated a notorious fowl mouth. (Pardon the pun,
that should be foul mouth.) Perhaps what he lacked in appearance
Conscription called for men and women, able bodied though, was compensated by personality.
excitedly, both young and old, gave up their lives to go . According to legend, in his younger days (when he still had
But white feathers were the symbol for all those left behind, feathers) the first human shoulder he was grafted onto belonged to
who refused to go, or could not, were disabled, deaf or blind. a south sea trader, Captain George Ellis. (I don’t know if this white
They kept our country working, whilst their loved ones fought abroad, bird was a mascot for blackbirders.)
but many of them sadly were soon put to the sword. They say our our not-so-fine feathered friend began his ap-
But then when news came back to them of loved ones who had died, prenceship on the tall ships at the ripe old age of nine years after
those left behind prayed fervently, whilst many wept or cried. being gifted to Capt Ellis by the ship’s cook.
On dry land Ellis patronised a pub owned by former detective,
We read the names of those who gave their lives, so we could live, Joseph Bowden at the corner of Hunter and Castlereagh Streets,
a future for their families, a precious gift to give. Sydney. Ellis and Bowden became mates while the publican was
Yet emptiness was left behind, with sadness taking toll, making investigations into the ‘black-birding’ trade in the 1860s. (I
fond memories are remembered with all our heart and soul. suspected that!) During his sailing days the feathered one circum-
War always brings such sorrow, many future hopes destroyed, natigated the planet seven times.
with a life not lived, a passing, which leaves an empty void. In between nautical episodes Ellis and his still feathered mate
But let us celebrate, not grieve, just smile, recall, and say frequnted which-ever pub Joe Bowden ran. The first mentioned
“TO THOSE WHO DIED THAT WE MIGHT LIVE, OUR GRATEFUL above, then the Club House . While manager there, he and his
THANKS EACH DAY.” wife, Sarah saved enough to invest in a pub of their own, Bowden’s
Hotel which was built nearby in Elizabeth St.
© John Dooley Joe died shortly after and Sarah remarried to a much young-
er, Charles Bennett. The newly-weds continued to work the pub
where one of the favourite patrons was Capt Ellis who died in 1887.
The pub owners inherited the cokatoo. So he became known as
Cocky Bennett — a permanent and popular resident at the bar.
In 1892 the Bennetts bought a new the Sea Breeze Hotel at
Tom Ugly’s Point at Blakehurst, on the banks of the Georges River.
Cocky was a popular attraction to the patrons.
Cocky got old and in direct proportion to his loss of feathers his
vocabulary grew and grew. Locals seemed proud of the fact he
knew some great swear words.
It’s a shame legends don’t always live forever. He died at the
ripe old age of 115 years on 11 September 1911. That was so long
ago that even the legend of possibly our most famous parrot ever
has died as well.

March 2020 eMuse 21