Death After the Six O'Clock Swill: The Sunbeam Hotel Tragedy

On April 10, 1945, the Sunbeam Hotel in Surry Hills became the scene of a shocking act of violence that left two men dead and a community grappling with its turbulent history.

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By Elliot Lindsay

The Sunbeam Hotel sat at the corner of Albion and Riley Streets, its weathered brick façade overlooking the overgrown remnants of Frog Hollow. Once a notorious slum, Frog Hollow had been cleared in 1928, leaving behind a scar on the landscape - a tangled reserve of weeds and discarded junk. Two ancient sandstone staircases descended from Albion Street and Riley Street into this neglected expanse, offering a quick escape into the maze-like laneways of Surry Hills.

On April 10, 1945, just after the hotel stopped serving drinks at 6 pm, violence erupted. A body slammed to the floor, followed by desperate cries and the dull thuds of boots. Francis Alexander Walls, an Army cook on leave, lay on the grimy wooden boards, his face and body aching from blows. 

"Give me a chance!" he shouted, panic seizing his voice. "You'll get no chance," came the vicious response. "We’ll kick you to death."

As boots connected again and again, Walls reached inside his tunic with trembling hands. He drew out a Japanese service pistol, a grim memento from the war, and in a flash, the air was split by the explosive crack of gunfire - once, twice. In the sudden stillness, two men lay lifeless, blood pooling around them.

Earlier That Day…

Walls had arrived at the Sunbeam around 3 pm, meeting his son for drinks. The 46-year-old Army cook had been a soldier since 1939, and on this day, he was seeking nothing more than a few middies of beer and some company. 

But he had another reason for being in Surry Hills that afternoon: he planned to sell some tobacco to an acquaintance. Knowing the area’s reputation for violence - “a low dive, a cosmopolitan sort of place,” as he would later describe it - he decided to bring the Japanese pistol his son had given him. 

“They get funny down there and sometimes draw knives,” Walls had explained. Walls’ son had taken the semi-automatic Nambu pistol from a Japanese officer after vicious combat in New Guinea.  

Among the other patrons were Arthur John Graham, a City Council cleaner, and Cecil Miller, an ironworker. Both men were familiar faces at the Sunbeam and known for their tempers when drinking was involved. As the day wore on, the atmosphere in the bar became tense - a blend of drink-induced camaraderie and simmering aggression.

A Brewing Conflict

By 6 pm, the last call had come. Mrs. Louise Stapleton, the licensee's wife, announced that the taps were shut and no more drinks would be served. Frustrated to call it a night, Walls approached the bar and asked for two more middies. "No more beer," Mrs. Stapleton told him. "You've had enough."

It was a refusal that would prove fateful. As Walls turned away, resentment brewed into confrontation. Graham and Miller, standing nearby, caught wind of the exchange and joined in, with one of them reportedly shouting, “Put him out!” The words were a spark, and in an instant, the barroom erupted.

Photo: Ivan Ive, State Library of NSW

Walls was hit in the face; his vision blurred as he fell to the floor. Boots swung in, connecting with his ribs, his face, and his hands as he tried to shield himself. Outside, darkness descended on the hotel as the sun set; its shadow loomed over the bleak, empty streets like an ancient monolith.

Shots in the Dark

Later, Walls would insist that the pistol was fired by accident as he lay on the floor being pummelled. Witnesses, however, recalled the sound of two rapid gunshots, followed by a dreadful silence. Arthur Graham lay dead from a bullet to the temple, while Cecil Miller succumbed to a gunshot wound to the chest. The Sunbeam, where hard men often found themselves in rough company, had become a bloodbath.

Walls fled the chaos, escaping through the front door and leaving behind his military hat, which lay abandoned on the blood-soaked floor. He took flight down the sandstone steps into Frog Hollow, disappearing into the narrow lanes that twisted through the heart of Surry Hills.

The Manhunt

The shooting sent shockwaves through the neighbourhood. Police scoured the streets, searching the labyrinthine alleys and the overgrown reserves for any sign of the fugitive. The sandstone staircases leading into Frog Hollow were well-known to the locals as a quick escape route, and detectives focused their efforts on combing the dense underbrush and small yards of the rows of terraces that covered the area. 

But Walls had not ventured far. When Detective-Sergeant Oswald Millgate found him at his Darley Street home, Walls seemed relieved. “I’m glad you came,” he said. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m pleased to get it over.”

The Inquest and Trial

The case that followed was complex, filled with conflicting testimonies and disputed facts. The prosecution argued that Walls had carried the loaded pistol into the Sunbeam with the intent to use it, while the defence maintained that Walls had acted in a moment of terror, fearing for his life as blows rained down upon him.

Witnesses described the scene in various ways. Some claimed the altercation began when Walls grew belligerent after being refused service. In contrast, others, like William Flanagan, recalled the bar’s atmosphere turning volatile well before the first punch was thrown. A taxi driver, Brian Hunt testified that Graham had been quarrelsome earlier in the day, picking fights before the final confrontation.

Walls took the stand, recounting the panic that gripped him during the brawl. He spoke of the kicks and punches that struck him from all sides, of the voice that snarled, “We’ll kick you to death,” and of the frantic moment when he drew the pistol. “I didn’t aim at anyone,” he said. “It just went off.” He admitted bringing the gun to Surry Hills because of the area’s reputation for street gangs, standover men and vice peddlers.

A Verdict of Manslaughter

The jury returned a verdict of manslaughter, acknowledging that while Walls had used excessive force, there was a possibility that he had acted out of fear for his life. On September 12, 1945, he was sentenced to seven years in prison. Mr Justice Herron noted that Walls' actions, while excessive, were influenced by the chaotic nature of the situation and the fear he experienced during the brawl. 

Detective Sergeant Millgate’s testimony that both Graham and Miller had criminal records lent support to the defence's claim that Walls had been a victim of circumstance.

Legacy of the Sunbeam

The Sunbeam Hotel, perched above the tangled remnants of Frog Hollow, had long been a gathering place for society's outcasts. In 1953, the hotel closed its doors, and by 1957, it had been demolished as part of a "slum clearing" initiative that had begun half a century earlier. This ended the hotel’s shadow that had loomed over Frog Hollow since its construction in 1865. 

Today, only the footprint of the old hotel remains, with a single surviving sandstone staircase as a silent witness to the countless footsteps that once echoed through this forgotten community. Though the April 10, 1945 events have faded from memory, the corner of Albion and Riley Streets still carries the weight of its past—a haunting reminder of a time when a drink in Surry Hills could be your last.