Living history

The oldest timber house in the Hastings survives today, totally thanks to the volunteers in the Douglas Vale Conservation Group. In fact, it thrives today, as Douglas Vale Historic Homestead and Vineyard.

I finally got around to visiting it, and found many resonances and memories … and good wine. Founder George Francis would be proud of it.

The entry via a vast and ancient bamboo ‘forest’ is atmospheric for a start.

This vineyard has been producing wine since 1859 and I was charmed that its first plantings were of Black Isabella grapes, as I’d had those vines at my 1895 Minmi house.

Of course I bought a bottle of Black Isabella Ruby Port (Portobella) from the wine tasting and sales centre housed in the old oyster factory, showing ties with the Dick family, who had started the oyster industry on the Hastings River.

A vine of that grape grows along the front verandah of this little house. The house is modest in scale, even with its added-on rooms, and it was fortunate to have been rescued from the vandalism that occurred after the last occupant, family member Patsy Dick, died in 1993.

Although made waterproof with tin roofing, the original she-oak shingles can be seen under the verandah roof.

The whole house is unapologetically a working museum cum vineyard, not a reproduction/re-imagined historical monument. 

It’s free to look around the house, the outbuildings and gardens, with knowledgeable and enthusiastic guides to explain what you are seeing and what has gone before.

Apart from the unvarnished broad floorboards and wall and ceiling boards, I loved the displays of the historical layers of wallpapers and linoleums.

There were detailed family trees and much background information.  A Heritage site, it’s a dream for local history buffs.

I was intrigued to learn that George Francis had likely learnt the craft of winemaking when he worked on a Hunter property where German vineyard workers were employed. My German ancestors, the Nebauers, came here for that exact purpose…

As was the safety custom, the kitchen was in a separate building, and its Beacon fuel stove was the same as my Nanna’s, the kerosene fridge the same as I’d once had. History seems very close here.

The windows are small, the doors low, the decorations minimal, the chimneys few, the fireplace not real marble, but timber painted to look like it; this was not a rich man’s home. Maybe that’s why it is so relatable.

And by sheer coincidence, in Patsy Dick’s room, to show his trade as a grave digger, the timber grave marker used was of a Munro couple. I am a Munro.

And my father’s name was Francis…

Douglas Vale welcomes volunteers but do at least pay it a visit. You won’t be sorry!

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