It was 1980 and I stood in the pottery gallery, an old homestead at Kurrajong Heights on the Bells Line of Road. I remembered it as a child and had been told that it was the original post office.
I was totally intrigued by the earthy presentation of the pots and the warmth of the old house with its low ceilings, and knowing that not more than a couple of kilometres away my grandparents once lived. I fondly remembered their old property on the highest point of the mountain, and maybe felt more than a slight resentment that they had sold the property before I was of an age to have a say in it’s future.
I wandered backwards and forwards, unsettled, looking at the displays, wanting to purchase a piece of my ancestor’s past. I questioned the lady present about local potters, feeling that a sample of local clay would make me feel more at ease – she questioned me about my heritage and I revealed my maiden name. She knew the history of the building and revealed who the past owners were, my great grandparents, and that my grandmother had been born in this very room that I was standing in.
The chill that I had felt before grew as she showed me through the house and explained events of the past, and showed me photos of the front garden where my ancestors had served Sunday tea. It’s truly incredible but to that moment, to the time that I had felt compelled to stop, to explaining my feelings each time I passed that point on the mountain – I felt it was childhood sentimentality but I now know it was more than just childhood rememberance of times passed, that there was heritage, ancestors, someone trying to express themselves and make themselves known. Someone close, trying to relate to me, trying to communicate with me, and trying to welcome me.
Who knows, who or what!
I felt it; I still feel it, even looking from Richmond to the mountain. I also feel …
A closeness and a sense of belonging, resentment that the mountain no longer belongs to me or my family, a feeling of wanting to return and to be at peace with nature and myself.
As a child I loved the mountain, the peace, the beauty, the isolation and the clean, cold air. The bush and the breathtaking views, the daffodils and the garden that grew wild at the front of my grandparent’s house. The sandstone where we engraved our initials, the lost moments – the very memorable occasions that today’s life cannot recapture or replace – the moments in time that only I will recall. I remember them, I remember the mountain and I now know that my ancestors are there still, welcoming me each time I return, and waiting for me to return for eternity ….
This written text “Lochiel House” remains the property of Beverley Woodman and cannot be copied or reproduced in any way without the permission of the author (copyright Beverley Woodman 19/9/1980)
Lochiel House
This is a short story I wrote after one of my many trips back to Kurrajong Heights before I really questioned who my ancestors were and before I started researching them. Lochiel House was originally known as IVY LODGE and was built by Joseph Douglass sometime soon after 1825 on his land grant and was perhaps the earliest accommodation house on the Bells Line of Road, a perfect stopping point after the long climb on their way to Lithgow and beyond. Lochiel House once belonged to my great grand parents. My great grandfather ran the post office in the old building from 1884 until he died in 1922. Various members of my family were born or died and many, including my father lived in Lochiel House throughout the ages.
It is now a highly rated restaurant and worth a stop if passing that way. The walls are adorned with photos of the past.
Steve Woodman
Great story Bev. Very evocative!
Bev Woodman in reply to Steve Woodman’s comment
Thanks Steve – it still brings out the sentiment in my!
cazz
a beautiful story bev ,from a potters point of view it would have been a beautiful old building to have pottery in.
Bev Woodman in reply to cazz’s comment
Thanks Cazz for the comment – it has always been a beautiful old building and still is
joak
brilliant bev do you know how its name came about at all?....cameron of locheil was a very famous chief who was the first to bring his clan out in support o bonnie prince charlie in 1745 but the camerons suffered terribly after it went wrong
Bev Woodman in reply to joak’s comment
Thanks Joak – Lochiel House was originally known as Ivy Lodge when Joseph Douglass first built it sometime in about 1825. At some stage the property was sold to George Bowman and his two daughters married the brothers, James Cameron (a presbyterian minister) and Andrew Cameron (a medical doctor) – both were from Lochiel in Scotland. Following James Cameron’s death in 1905, my great grandfather, Thomas Walker purchased the property and it stayed in Walker family hands until 1949. Now a lot of research has been done by Trish Downes and if you are interested you might like to read more at http://members.pcug.org.au/~pdownes/douglass/index.htm – Trish has shared a lot of her work re the ownership of the property with me and I am so grateful for this. We have not been able to find out when the property became known as Lochiel House – I believe Thomas Walker gave it this name sometime in the early 1900s and it seems likely that the name was dedicated to the Camerons and their homeland. At this stage I haven’t been able to find anything more on my great grandfather other than he was Thomas Walker born in Falmouth Cornwall of scottish parents – his father being a mariner who worked the English channel. Hope you find this of interest.
Jen Wahl
Isn’t it amazing how learning a bit of our family heritage gives us such a sense of connection!?
Bev Woodman in reply to Jen Wahl’s comment
Thanks Jen for the comment – I try to explain how i feel about Kurrajong Heights and the Hawkesbury but its difficult to put into words. I do know I keep being drawn back there, I feel at peace there and there’s something else – something I just can’t explain but I interpret it as being “welcomed home”. I have another story I might post at a later stage on this line.
Ginger Barritt
Bev…what a wonderful, but sad story…..Aren’t you an interesting person….I’m going to have to study you a bit closer….......Can I ask one of those airhead questions??? When were you born?...not the year…
Bev Woodman in reply to Ginger Barritt’s comment
13th February – an Aquarian married to a Leo