This is a narrative about our involvement with a famous pastoral property called Ercildoune, whilst also endeavouring to pay homage to one of Australia’s earliest pioneering families, the Scottish born Livingstone-Learmonth brothers. Thomas and Somerville were still only teenagers when they arrived here in Victoria (then known as Port Phillip.) They had to overcome so much adversity to ultimately produce a superior type of merino wool that was to become so famous, that it even helped put Australia on the world map. Ercildoune truly captured our hearts, and it was a gut-wrenching day that we closed the magnificent front door for the last time, after 15 years of building renovations and garden restoration. We had to overcome so many trials including the rather soul destroying Millenium Drought followed closely by the worst floods in the history of Western Victoria. So we do think that we have a bit of an understanding of some of the tribulations that the pioneers faced, but at least we ultimately saved an important slice of Australian history, and this is just another Chapter in the story of Ercildoune, but it’s our own personal Chapter … Christine and John Dever.
ERCILDOUNE. STATELY COUNTRY HOME.
From its large windows ‘Ercildoune’ looks out over one of the loveliest views from any window in Australia. The eye takes in a group of lakes stretching away into the hills: a rose-garden with a granite wall, probably unique in this country; a beautiful swimming pool; a huge expanse of lawn, sweeping past English and Australian trees in a glorious mixture of British and colonial greens; and undulating pastures and wooded hills, wonderful country for riding. Its fishing is one of the prides of ‘Ercildoune’ which had the first trout hatchery in the State. The trout, in fact, arrived much as Royalty might, to be met at the Ballarat station by a party clad in top hats and dress clothes – in 1870! If it were not for the gum trees, the Australian grasses and the sun, ‘Ercildoune’ might be taken for a slice of England or Scotland…The Weekly Times (Melbourne, Vic.) 14/7/1934
Our Story.
One fine day we were driving up the Hume Highway to visit our good friends about a tragic horse accident in Rutherglen (see dedication at the very end), when we stopped at a Service Station in Seymour for a coffee, and bought a copy of The Weekly Times. Always interested in keeping abreast of the rural property market, we found ourselves perusing the property section, and stumbled across an advertisement featuring a country property called Ercildoune c1838 for sale. We were really intrigued by the photograph, especially as it seemed to be such a unique and historic property. Not too many of these lovely old historical Homesteads ever come on to the market here in Australia, especially ones with design features that would look more at home in countries where it is not uncommon to see medieval castles. I remember being impressed by the age of the property and garden, but really didn’t think too much more about it, but my husband John had soon arranged for an inspection just two weeks prior to the auction date of 6/6/1999. I was studying, as a mature-aged student, for an Advanced Certificate of Horticulture at Burnley College, whose own gardens date back to 1863, so it was wonderful to think that we were now going to inspect a property that was surrounded by some of the oldest gardens in the State possibly dating back to the 1840’s. I was however secretly thinking that we wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of ever owning it.
John and I had rarely even ventured over the Westgate Bridge back then, and I had only driven West as far as Kryal Castle as a teenager, to witness the various forms of medieval entertainment carried on there, including the somewhat disturbing visual, ‘the whipping of the wench’ if my memory serves me correctly. We also knew that the Ballarat climate was famous for being a tad chilly at times, and that it occasionally snowed there, as we were to find out later on, so buying a property with 13 fireplaces probably gave us a clue about the necessity to keep the Homestead warm. As it turned out, our lives were to become significantly changed in many ways, after this fateful day of stumbling across an advertisement that read:
Historic Auction of an original landmark of Victoria. A significant two storey (c. 1838) Scottish Baronial (approx. 100 squares) amidst old worlde setting. 19th century trees, lakes, and many notable buildings – (Mortgagee in Possession).
We drove up from Melbourne feeling quite excited, for what ended up being the first and only inspection. I thought the name ‘Ercildoun’, a rather romantic and melodic sounding name, so I immediately started researching the property and found out that it was of Scottish origin and derived from the Gaelic Arciol Dun, meaning ‘the lookout hill’. It was originally spelt without the ‘e’ on the end of it, but an Irishman, the second owner, rather sadly changed its original spelling, all because he wanted an even number of letters on his gates! Our excitement well and truly mounted as we negotiated the mile long dirt road in to the property that had obviously once been a majestic avenue of pines, alternating with deodars. We then drove past a dilapidated looking Shearing Shed and the granite Gatehouse, then on through the main entrance that consisted of two castellated granite gateposts followed by a leafy canopy to another gateway, and it was here that we took our first glimpse of Ercildoune. We were immediately held spellbound as the newspaper photo metamorphosized before us in solid granite, with the long-lived ivy clinging on to most of the front of it. It really did feel like we’d been transported to another country altogether…and to a distant place in time. The rather imposing black and white marble tiled entrance had 1838 chiselled on the impressive keystone. The huge black front door had been left open and autumn leaves were swirling in and around the hallway. There was a tower that was attached by some ornate brickwork, or ‘arm of ornamental stonework’, to the study, and some imposing castellated areas created an interesting roofline that harked back to the days of the Scottish border wars with England –
“With its thick walls and massive tower, its high pitched roofs, tall chimneys and battlemented parapets, it is reminiscent of Scotland’s feudal days; but the granite is from the nearby hills, the bricks and tiles are of Australian clay, and the water flows from the creek which is fed so freely from the hills beyond.” (The Australian Home Beautiful 1/9/1934.)
We ended up driving back to what seemed to be mundane suburbia as we were now somewhat in awe of what we had just witnessed, but I was in two minds, and not at all convinced that we should even attend the Auction. But we didn’t keep our ‘sensible’ hats on for very long, and subsequently booked a room at the famous historic Craig’s Hotel, situated in the heart of Ballarat, for the night of the 5th June, 1999, and after an enjoyable stay in this grand Hotel, and surrounded by some very nice period furniture, we left mid-morning to attend the Auction. I had subtly tried suggesting to my dear husband John that he should not put in a bid at all, as it would be a bit silly for us to buy it, since we lived, and he worked, so far away in Melbourne. Not long after we’d arrived, a woman approached us, and said that she wanted us to buy the property because “you’re young enough to take it on” I think she said. John must have taken this as an omen, so when the Auction was underway, I made another vain attempt to remind him of our previous discussion, but this fell on his very deaf ears, so I took off for the Walled Garden, an acre in size, that was enclosed by a 3 metre high granite wall, the granite apparently having been quarried in the nearby hills. Always thinking about horses I was picturing the majestic Clydesdales straining with loads of granite in order for the builder to create what would be one of the most beautiful and peaceful spots in the universe. A stunning mauve Wisteria had been left to its own devices and was growing rampantly in all directions over another ornate wrought iron gateway. There were only a few remaining trees including a date palm and golden elm, and a few overgrown espaliered pear and fig trees left. The branches of the nearby Monterey pines were dangerously close and one huge branch was resting on the wall. The area had once been divided into three garden rooms by cypress hedging. I found out later on that it is the only Walled Garden of this scale in Victoria, and whoever measured it out managed to get the measurements just slightly out of kilter though, so it is strangely not a perfect rectangle. When I returned to the crowd, John’s hand had shot up enough times that the property was passed down to us, but then the Auction had to be re-started due to what was perceived as an unsighted bid or something, so I took that as an omen and suggested that we let ‘the others’ have it, but that didn’t work either. So we arrived back home in Melbourne that night, with many mixed feelings that included ‘what the hell have we just done’, having bought the equivalent of a small dilapidated village, but if anyone could take it all on, then my husband John could. So we steeled ourselves for the daunting restoration that was about to take place. The main thing was that this place called Ercildoune, was to become lovingly cared for once again with the promise of returning it to some degree of its former grandeur.
The property had been described as being of great historical importance to Australia and is thereby listed with Heritage Victoria. It is also included on the Australian Heritage Register and The National Trust of Australia (Victoria) has classified Ercildoune “as being of national significance, and one of the most historic and architecturally important Homesteads in Victoria. Architecturally the Homestead is of considerable importance for the first Homestead, which is one of the earliest surviving buildings in Victoria, the gardens and the main house and its interiors.” The Statement of Cultural Heritage Significance describes Ercildoune as “an extraordinary example of a mid-19th century pastoral property, comprising a range of buildings and elements dating from at least the mid-19th century, through to the early 20th century. It has the appearance of a small rural settlement, comprising an array of buildings and elements including the caretaker’s residence, manager’s residence, gatehouse, garden plantings and structures, cemetery, waterways and hydro-electric scheme, wind-breaks, and a series of farm buildings such as the barn and shearing shed.”
As the property had been left unlived in for many years, everything had sadly deteriorated to such a degree, that we wondered if it could ever be brought back to its original splendour. We couldn’t escape that rather unpleasant eau de cologne called possum that had mingled in a rather revolting way with a musty/smoky odour. The walls, ceiling, and 13 chimneys needed repairs and a chimney sweep was hired to give them all a cleanout and Murray dampers were placed on top of them. We soon learned all about lath and plaster and the various methods of building used back in the early days and some of the back rooms had gaping holes in the ceilings because of this old method not handling the ravages of time. John arranged for 25,000 handmade bricks to be delivered and these were used in the long list of repair jobs and other problems that Peter the Brickee and Ted were able to resolve. John managed to also get some old slate tiles from Melbourne University and the Library roof was retiled in these rather than corrugated iron. It was reported that vandals had previously ravaged the house causing severe water damage to the interior, and at one time 58 windows had been broken. But the evidence of past grandeur could not be denied. The pressed metal ceilings, cornices, ceiling roses and skirting boards were still magnificent, and in the large drawing room, sometimes referred to as a ballroom, were two beautiful Adamesque white marble fireplaces. (*Named after the Scottish Adam Brothers who became famous for their beautiful architectural and interior designs). In the corner was an alcove leading to the tiny writing room, then through two sliding doors was the study area or what has been referred to as a smoking room. Some lovely old, ornate wooden curtain rods and long brass picture rails adorned the walls. We had some more wooden curtain rods made to match the originals and sent away anything made of brass to be polished. We even had to remove some ivy that had somehow found a way to peek through the bookcases. The wooden floors were all cleaned and polished too, and from underneath the dullness appeared the lovely parquetry floor that had been used in the hunting room and main hallways.
An ancient cast iron range took pride of place in one of the kitchen areas, and beside that was a flower room and a butler’s pantry. I imagined the many magnificent feasts that would have been prepared for the constant stream of guests, that included members of the Royal family and many other Vice-Regal and Government officials and dignitaries who were visiting Ballarat at the time. The bench tops were made out of lovely Huon pine, and there were three copper bottomed ceramic sinks two of which had to re-surfaced. There was another cavernous pizza like oven in the room called the bakehouse, and there was a very well-worn concrete step connecting the two rooms that housed these important ovens that would have probably been the hub of the Homestead, especially in the freezing Ballarat Winters. The older plans showed a lumber-room and a separate room called a scullery besides the main kitchen area. There were also a row of ten servants’ bells, situated in a little hallway next to the kitchen area, that were no longer connected bells and the source of their wiring was found up on the second storey hidden in one of the skirting boards near the void area below the skylight. We found out that they each had a different tone so the servants had to memorize each one so that they knew from which room they were being summonsed. (*Huon pine (Lagarostrobos franklinii) is a conifer and not a true pine. It is a found in only a small and wet area of South West Tasmania. It is a golden yellow wood, noted for its fine grain and the natural oils it contains is a chemical called methyl eugenol that resists rotting.)
There was a long narrow passage that provided a service area so that the various cooks and helpers could manage their own areas for the big occasions. The first area had a serving bench topped with a thick layer of lead, in order to keep salads etc. cool in the heat of summer. At the end of this passage was an airy meat room that had mesh in the window area to let in fresh air, and the long wooden benches had worn thin with the constant chopping of knives, especially where it was slightly warmer in-between the two windows. There was an enormous laundry with an impressive copper under which a fire could be lit. Beside that was a double huon pine trough, and above them the brickwork had been stained by those old fashioned blue bags that were used to whiten and brighten everything. (*“Reckitt’s Crown Blue is the best and safest way to keep white fabrics sparkling, clean white.” Its ingredients are actually synthetic ultramarine and baking soda. It weighed one ounce and cost a penny way back then!) A room beside the laundry housed the reverse osmosis water treatment machine that looked very space age indeed, especially compared to what the pioneers had to do ensure that they had clean drinking water. In the main hallway was an impressive staircase leading to the second storey and on the landing, was a brass tap, where it was thought that maybe the children were christened on this landing. I thought it a pretty risky place to have a tap. A door from the wide upstairs hallway, led to what was known back in the olden days, as the ‘servants wing’ and the three smaller bedrooms were most likely allocated to the housemaids. There was a ‘slops’ basin upstairs too, so not sure what was sent down its pipes! The back ‘servants’ stairs’ were much steeper.
At the front of the Homestead were four bedrooms with the main bedroom and dressing room being called Astolat and Avalon. (*Not sure why they were called these names but knowing their propensity to be connected to mythical stories, then Astolat is said to be the place where the body of King Arthur is buried and Avalon a legendary city of Great Britain and the home of Elaine “the fair maiden of Astolat” named in Arthurian legends.) We had a large, bespoke, mahogany wardrobe made for the smaller room. Opposite these rooms, across an extremely wide landing, were the rooms apparently used by the Duke of Gloucester during his visit in 1934, along with the once castellated ensuite bathroom, that we were to find out from the builder, was only being held up by a rotten telegraph pole, and there is no record as to why the castellations were removed. This ensuite had apparently been added on for the Duke’s special visit at a cost of £1,000 along with the outside ‘water closet’ that became known as the Duke of Gloucester Loo and that was surrounded by many Chinese windmill palms.
The large brick addition to the Homestead included three large bedrooms and three smaller ones, with a family bathroom containing a heavy iron bath with claw feet. This very heavy old bath had to be carried down the stairs by 4 strapping men, in order for it to be re-surfaced. The toilets were obviously a challenging proposition back in the 1850’s too according to a letter from Andrew, explaining that the eldest brother John had given up using the one installed at Laurence Park, stating that ‘you will have difficulty in making this inodorous.’ There ended up being four toilets installed upstairs, and it must have been a great day when the slops basin was replaced by proper plumbing. Six out of the nine upstairs bedrooms had fireplaces in them and there were eleven fireplaces downstairs, so one can only imagine the hustle and bustle required to keep all of these fires burning when they had a full house. A ‘dumb waiter’ that is a rudimentary box on a rope cable was obviously installed to make life a little easier when organizing loads of firewood etc. to be delivered to the upstairs area. One of the previous owners had put gas pipes in all of the fireplaces in order to fit Heatmaster’s to them, but feeling these were a bit too modern we had them removed. I talked John out of hydronic heating at the time, as it was to cost around $25,000, and thought that a dozen or so freestanding heaters would be enough, but after awhile, we realized that that Hydronic would have propably been the best solution regarding the heating of the Homestead, as it was so very cold in Winter and naturally having so many doors and windows, quite draughty.
One of the first phone calls made was to Dianne Gow, from Harlequin Designs in Ballarat, and she was quickly reinstated as the Interior Designer (she had advised some of the previous owners as well) to manage the project, and she worked tirelessly with her team to finish one of her “all time favourite places.” On her website she states that – “Ercildoune was settled in 1838 by the Livingstone-Learmonth teenage brothers, and became one of the most famous and widely renowned stations in Australia. The homestead construction is of large granite blocks cut by hand from the quarry on the property. Ercildoune, historic home of the Learmonth family, had been in decay for many years before coming into the hands of the current owners. Bringing this large and imposing heritage listed house back to life as a welcoming country family home has been an incredibly satisfying project. It was a privilege to work on such a special building with a talented group of trade professionals. The owners generously share the transformed grounds with Open Garden days. Outbuildings are slowly coming back to life and give further indication of what an industrious property it would once have been.” A Conservation Plan had been commissioned by Heritage Victoria when it was owned by the Riddoch’s, the 5th owners, and Falkinger, Andronas Pty. Ltd., Architects and Heritage Consultants, were engaged to produce this lengthy publication dated 1997, and the Riddoch’s had also undertaken extensive renovations before we even acquired the property. The plan was prepared using a grant of $12,750 from Heritage Victoria as a basis for planning the future of Ercildoune. The emphasis of the report was on the assessment of the physical condition of the complex, and on preparing a prioritized schedule of works… to enable works to be undertaken to stabliise the fabric. The research reports previously undertaken by Caroline Opie and Hanut Dodd were drawn upon extensively. A grant of $8,000 was received from the National Estate Grants Program to be used to undertake urgent repairs to roofs of the gatehouse, Shearing Shed, Manager’s Residence, and Old Men’s Quarters by the end of June 1997. One of their conclusions was “Though the structure of the estate remains substantially intact, there is much to be done to conserve and stabilize the buildings and garden and return it to its former grandeur.” (*And possibly the understatement of our years of involvement with Ercildoune!) Thanks were also extended in the Plan to Robyn Mullens and John Hawker (who gave out invaluable gardening advice) at Heritage Victoria, for their professional and financial imput during the course of the project, and to the National Estate Grants Program for their financial support.
Everything seemed rather daunting but slowly things started to be repaired and reinstated, as each room had accumulated many layers of paint and/or wallpaper over the years, and Dianne personally scraped back through the layers to check for earlier colour palettes, often finding some of the older colour schemes or wallpaper patterns underneath. A Star of David was a surprise find too, but maybe it is some kind of Scottish symbol. So each room was given a different colour palette, and the bedrooms had various frieze patterns put up too, and Dianne also chose the appropriate carpets to be reinstated, and some of the carpet was of a narrower gauge and had to be specially made. Then came the challenge of choosing curtains and many lovely old worlde pictures were added to the walls. We bought some huge rugs for the Drawing Room and then filled up the Homestead once again, with antique furniture. We spent many a happy hour hunting through Antique shops to find pieces that would do the Homestead justice and many wonderful pieces were obtained through XXXX Antiques in Castlemaine, one of my favourites being a magnificent mahogany sideboard adorned with birds and grapes, that fitted in perfectly with the highly ornate cornices that were also adorned with birds and grapes. I also loved the large copper dog that stood sentry just outside the front door.
How on earth did they build such a place back then? The Learmonth brothers were well prepared and brought with them 64 men and families, and built 22 cottages on the property to house them. The 40-roomed Homestead is now approximately 100 squares in size, after doubling from a single to double storey in the 1850’s, then it probably doubled in size again with the back brick extension that was built by the second owner. Little did the brothers know that their uniquely styled homestead would be described as a showplace for distinguished globe-trotters for years (Leader 3/8/07.) The original and rather cramped looking two-storey shelter, first erected on the Run in 1837, has been described as the very first house where the Learmonth Brothers stayed, but some knowledgeable people doubt that it was lived in for very long periods, as there is no sign of it ever having a chimney. Another rumour was about a secret underground tunnel that extended from here to the lake, but we never found that either, but we did find the old control box that controlled the water system for the sheepwash.
The stems on the abundant ivy growing on the Homestead had become almost trunk-like, so this was removed to save the mortar. The Shearing Shed, one of the oldest in the State dates back to 1839 as mentioned in the Learmonth Diary, and it had been dismantled and each piece numbered and then transported from their Buninyong property to be rebuilt at its present site. It needed major repairs done and Heritage Victoria gave us a grant of $30,000, so Steve Briody, undertook the renovation that was to become part of an educational project for him as well, with major subsistence problems in the sub-floor structure including water damage causing fungal rot in the sub-floor members, so nearly the whole building ended up being re-stumped. Then Ted the Builder, along with his son also helped finish the restoration that included putting back the missing wooden battens that are spaced so that the sheep poo can hopefully fall through. When possible we had a man with a milling machine brought in and he milled as much of the felled trees that we could, including the Abies cypress. The cost of this restoration ended up being over $100,000 though. We were sent a picture of another Shearing Shed with many of the shearers standing outside holding the old fashioned shears, that must have been a nightmare to use, but this shearing shed has mysteriously disappeared from Ercildoune. I say mysteriously as it was made out of granite or bluestone, so wouldn’t have burnt down too easily but some of our neighbours do think it was there at some stage. Steve was often around to help Robin with the various other jobs that included removing 27 of these huge dead and decaying deodars and pines from the old carriageway or driveway in that we share with a neighbour, as they were struggling with the drought too and had become quite dangerous in places. The huge Monterey pines around the lake had also sadly started to die, so it was a huge job to have these trimmed up or removed. Steve also helped with the neverending removal of the jungle like vegetation and with the new fencing.
The granite gatehouse needed work too and also had many possums in residence. There were also 13 other outbuildings on the property including a caretakers cottage, the rendered stone-cobbled stables and loft, the once stunning Gothic Revival styled Manager’s Cottage that was described as ‘having evidence of total neglect and pilfering’ that included the removal of some of the mantelpieces. The ballpark quote we were given to renovate this building alone was $300,000. There was also an attractive shingle roofed laundry area that the intrepid Ted found another copper to replace the missing one with, and opposite this was the castellated Old Men’s Quarters (also called ‘barracks’ where English men learned important country things that included colonial ways and they were also known as ‘barrackers’ – Pleasant Creek News & Stawell Chronicle dated 15/10/1885.) This building also showed off the skill and flair the builder had having used red brick quoining around the door openings. The wooden floorboards near the front room were very worn and it might have been where the employees came to receive their instructions, rations and wages. Past these buildings were the remnants of where some of the other cottages once stood, with just the crumbling brick chimneys surviving. There was another weatherboard worker’s cottage, the shearers’ quarters that could sleep 15, an ablutions block, a large freestanding meat-room as they must have lived mainly on lamb of course, another cottage that could have been used as a School House and the Rabbiters’ Cottage, one of the oldest buildings on the property that was described as having stone masonry of rustic random rubble, similar to the older section of the gatehouse. The verandah to this building was also reinstated. There was a long line of hooks strung between the inside walls where the rabbits were hung and there were many rabbits to be had. There was an avenue of elms planted here. There was also a barn type structure that included a hayloft, with a stable at one end, a blacksmith facility, tack-room and coach storage area and the generator for the hydro-electric scheme was housed here too, and some of the aforementioned rabbits had undermined the concrete slab it was on by burrowing underneath it. . (*Apparently the Homestead would be plunged into darkness when on the odd occasion a sheep would wedge itself somehow in the open channel thereby blocking the waterflow needed for creating electricity so that someone would have to walk the channel in the dark to find out where it was and then remove what was probably a rather heavy wet and soggy sheep.) Repairs needed to be done to patch up the gaping holes that had appeared in the loam stucco walls. According to Hanut Dodd in Lime and Victorian Buildings (M.P.D. University of Melbourne 1997) page 54, Ercildoune is the only surviving example of this treatment. Whilst clearing up around this area, a large grinding wheel was found under the layers of dirt.
It was amazing to think how a small community had grown around a number of shepherds’ huts dotted around the property. Even a Minister of Religion was employed to live on the property. There was also a large freestanding brass bell now situated opposite the stable block and garage (it had possibly been moved according to heresay), that was rung at 6.45 am every day so that the workers could gather around and receive their instructions. If they hadn’t arrived by 6.55 am, then they were docked a day’s pay.
There were a series of interconnected lakes, dams and manmade ponds on the property that wound their way up a narrow valley beside Mount Misery and the Peak of Almond. These ponds had been used in their successful fish breeding experiments, that were firstly undertaken by the Learmonth Brothers with mainly cod and trout, and then by Samuel Wilson who also bred trout but became more famous for breeding salmon (*and some called him Sir Salmon Wilson).
Apparently (and unfortunately) the thatched fish-hatching house had long since collapsed under the weight of marauding blackberry bushes. When advertised in March 1943 it was described in the Sydney Morning Herald as being watered by never-failing springs, bores, and dams. Droughts unknown as rainfall is regular, and averages 26 inches yearly. Water power for chaffcutter and saw bench. Electric Lighting connected from Yallourn Scheme. These waterways were then able to become a part of the hydro-electricity scheme implemented by the third owner, Major Currie with the Homestead becoming the first property, not only to have the colony’s first trout hatchery and hydro-electric scheme, but also the first property outside Melbourne to get electricity. The warmest lake was called Lake Rhymer by the Learmonth Brothers and was possibly used for swimming, as it was a few degrees warmer than similar bodies of water in Ballarat, possibly due to some volcanic activity deep inside the nearby hills. (*Between Melbourne and Mt. Gambier there are more than 400 small volcanoes that erupted over a period of 6 million years. According to Tasmanian volcanologist, Dr. R. Grey, ven Melbourne also sits on a volcanic area called a newer volcanic province and that could erupt again one day – Daily Mail 14th August, 2018.)
Some charred stumps remained visible in the section of sand beside the swimming lake where once stood a wooden structure used as a changing room, along with a small jetty that had burnt down in the 1977 bushfires. The land became quite steep from here to what became an overgrown valley festooned with all sorts of rampant vegetation, including some exotic plantings, that included some pathways (*There were 11 killometres of made tracks available for bushwalking at one stage) leading up from the House to Bishop’s Dam, and here were also the remnants of some of the fish breeding ponds, and according to Salmon at the Antipodes, there were trout left in these ponds when the Learmonth’s vacated the property. All of the waterways and lakes were in need of attention, so we had the back and front lakes emptied and cleaned out, as they had silted up over the years, and in the drought years, Bishop’s Dam ended up having an outbreak of blue-green algae, so that had to be treated with copper sulphate and the drinking troughs had water re-directed to them from another water source.
There are not that many records left that I could find, but the Learmonth brothers, Thomas and Somerville, kept a detailed station diary that recorded daily life and events. I find it hard to fathom that they were then only 19 and 20 years of age. It states that the original run was 60,000 acres in size (90 square miles approximately), then held under Lease from the Crown, and the boundary was apparently marked by a plough furrow that ran from Mt. Buninyong to Lake Burrumbeet, then on to the Beaufort Ranges, then to Mt. Mitchell and back to the point of commencement. These measurements seemed to use the trees and other geographic landmarks to mark the boundaries, so many disputes arose accordingly, and I’d imagine it could have been quite disastrous if a bushfire went through, so the innovation of fencing would have been a blessing. But by 1858, Thomas and Somerville Learmonth had purchased 20,973 acres for £75,000 and were Leasing 26,000 acres of Crown Land that was carrying 76 horses, 4,139 head of cattle and 9,622 sheep. Apart from the many entries about sheep, there are also many entries about the bullocks being lost and the workers getting as ‘drunk as fiddlers’ on rum on a fairly regular basis. The Gold Museum also has a collection of documents and pictures that were donated by the Briody family, the 4th owners.
News of any kind back in the 1800’s travelled very slowly and the first overland mail service between Melbourne and Sydney began operating in December 1837. According to Wikipedia, Australia was a relatively early adopter of telegraph technology with the first telegraph line being sponsored by the Victorian Government and this was erected between Melbourne and Williamstown in 1853 and extended to Geelong by 1854, the first news being brought to Melbourne was in regard to the Eureka Stockade, that was a battle fought between the colonial forces and miners, mainly about abolishing the mining license in December 1854. The miners built an stockade like structure. Connections to Queenscliff and Port Melbourne provided notice of shipping arrivals. Australia would eventually be linked to the world in 1872 through the Overland Telegraph, which ran some 3200 kilometres from Adelaide through to Darwin. It remained being heavily used until the telephone took over in around 1945. The man responsible was Samuel McGowan, a Canadian immigrant. The distance from Edinburgh and Melbourne is over 16,000 kilometres, and shipping over mail could take several months depending on the unpredictable weather conditions, so important news could arrive weeks or months after the event, if it arrived at all, but in Melbourne and especially in the country towns like Ballarat and Geelong, almost every little snippet of news about anything or anyone was printed in the local newspapers. The Learmonth brothers even heard about their father’s death by mail. From the 1850’s to 1920’s, many people also relied on the famous Cobb and Co. coaches to deliver mail and provide transport to the once isolated communities.
Louisa Learmonth mentions that her husband Thomas is writing letters in his wee writing room, and here is a letter dated 13th April 1859, from her that gives us an idea of how life was back then –
My dearest Father and Mrs. Learmonth,
As I am trying by this mail to make up for some of my silence to so many relatives and friends I must endeavor to send you a few lines. We were very sorry to hear by the last letters from home of your indisposition dear Father though thankful to find you were getting the better of it. How very kind you have been dear Mrs. Learmonth in constantly writing to us, your letters are always so interesting. I wish I could make mine equally so, but I am at all times but a bad correspondent and then we have to little here to write about. I forget whether Tom told you last herewith of our dear baby’s baptism on the 6th March and receiving the name of “Louisa Harriet”. God will I am sure rejoice with us that the dear wee thing is thriving very nicely, under the care of a wet nurse though, which I regretted very much being obliged to get for her. She is very intelligent, and good-tempered and entices all our servants as well to be fond of playing with her. Yesterday I accompanied Tom for the first time in about the last six or seven months, into Ballarat and enjoyed it very much. We made enquiries about getting baby vaccinated and I believe if the day after tomorrow is fine, we are to take her in for that purpose when we also take in our letter for home. The weather seems now beginning to break a little since the day before yesterday and not before the country needed it for we have been threatened with great deaths from want of water. The Cockpit swamp that Tom and Andrew know, has this year so dried up that Fred walked across it the other day, but yesterday we observed a little water lying there. Tom is busy just now planning the improvements in the garden with the gardener who is a good, steady, hard working man. Will you tell Andrew that we heard lately that the poor silly daughter of our late gardener Duke was burnt to death not very long after they left us. We have also been busy planning as we thought very pretty and comfortable additions to the house, but have stuck fast frightened at the estimated cost of our improvements, but as the place has been drawn and the estimation made, Tom thinks it best to let these go home for his brothers to see and that they may so be something of a pride to them in estimating the expense. I dare say you remember that I used to teach the children of the Station until I became so very ill. My dear sister Josephine is most kind in managing them now for us, but it is a great tax upon her time and patience for the numbers are much increased, the new Storekeeper and Ploughman’s families being much larger than their predecessors with two or three very difficult children to manage among them. We are also now anxious to have some of the children of the Shepherds and Mrs. M…’s two boys from the Black Hill to receive education and all this would be much more than I’d undertake so we are waiting to see if Mrs. Perry can recommend us a good one. Our last Ploughman, Baldie, has gone to his farm and Tom and Andrew will perhaps be interested to hear that he has dug a well close to his hut and found water coming in from 7 feet and has now got down to solid rock at a depth of 20 feet and found two feet of standing water, this before the rain commenced the other day, during this late dry season. Tom joins me in sending much love to you both and our brothers, and he also begs me to say that he hopes to write to you dear Mrs. Learmonth by the next mail, not this, as I am writing.
Very affectionately yours, Louisa Learmonth.
Unfortunately there aren’t many old photos in existence, that I can locate at least, and I guess that many of them were taken with them back to Scotland, so luckily the newspaper articles available here in Australia, help paint a picture of their lives, including the family births and deaths. Many stories about Ercildoune were widely published in most of the 200 Victorian newspapers that came in to existence prior to 1901, with some people writing in letters questioning how the Learmonths amassed such great tracts of land in the first place, or how they managed to win so many first prizes at the various shows, or on the merits of inbreeding. (*One of the first newspaper publications was handwritten and published by John Fawkner in 1838, and called The Melbourne Advertiser, Port Phillip Australia. At this time Melbourne was a very young settlement that consisted of a few huts and houses.)
One of the hardest challenges we faced was definitely the ten-year drought, also known as the millennium drought, that commenced in the late 1990’s, and by 2003 it was recognized as the worst drought on record. But even now, in 2018, there are many Australian farmers enduring another terrible drought, and imagine not being able to even obtain feed for your hungry stock let alone trying to put food on the table for your family. It’s extremely heartwarming to see the Victorian States help other states in need and vice-versa. We only had a small flock of sheep on the property, but could not find anyone that would sell us hay for our animals when things were at their worst. Australia’s climate has to be one of the most challenging in the world, and our farmers have to ride a horrible roller coaster of debt and despair, when they regularly watch all of their hard work count for nothing, as they are constantly being held to ransom by the weather Gods. I did hear of a saying “if you have livestock you will have deadstock” and we did have to bury quite a few animals, of the latter condition, over the years, including some beloved pets. Another motto I decided that applied to us was now “to expect the unexpected” as we negotiated a continual line of what could be classed as speed humps along the way. (*Oscar Wilde had been credited with “To expect the unexpected shows a thoroughly modern intellect.” But my all time favourite quote was chalked on to one of the wooden walls in the Ercildoune Shearing Shed – “God made women, but that was a failure, so he made Beer” and we certainly are a nation of beer drinkers. After the gold discoveries, hotels sprung up like toadstools, and even a little towns like Buninyong had 20 Hotels by 1871 servicing 2,281 inhabitants and the various blowins.)
But it was so depressing to be surrounded by a parched landscape day after day, week after week and we even sunk another bore down near the Shearing Shed. It did snow lightly in August 2008 though, but it was short lived, and that depressing era was closely followed by severe floods that occurred from the 2nd to the 9th September 2010 with some newspaper headlines stating that La Nina finally breaks the drought. The 2010 floods have since been described as a widespread series of flood events across the State. It was so bad that even Ballarat couldn’t receive certain radio frequencies on the Friday. We no sooner had recovered from that expensive disaster, when, between the 12th and 14th January 2011, our rain-gauge recorded approximately 215 milimetres falling in a short space of time. We could see the water levels rising in the dam again, the one nearest to the Homestead so we optimistically placed some hay bales around it, but what we woke up to the next day caught us completely off guard, a sound that took us awhile to take in, as it was an unusually loud whooshing noise, one that was completely alien to us. John bolted upright and said its coming inside, so we raced downstairs and saw through the Ballroom windows, that we now had a huge body of fast running water beside us, and we than grabbed all the towels and objects that we could to try and block the back doorways, as it had also started seeping in through the back of the Homestead, through the bakery door and in to four of the rooms including the kitchen eating area, but seemed to be draining down thorough the cracks in the floorboards beside the old oven. Maybe there was an old cellar under there after all. Three of our wonderful neighbours came to help sandbag and dig trenches, and their invaluable assistance, along with John’s, assured that the whole ground floor was saved from possible inundation. Many drought-affected trees had fallen down everywhere and locusts had been spotted swarming not too far away, but thankfully they stayed away. These floods have been since been described as being the worst floods in the history of Western Victoria with more than 51 communities being affected, and these floods, once again, destroyed much of our good work, and that was extremely hard to take, after the years and years of hand watering. The recent plantings on the bank of the dam wall didn’t fare too well, the newly planted Wollemi Pine lost its will to live after being drowned, and we never did find one of the quite heavy garden ornaments that had been washed into the front lake. But we picked ourselves off the mat again, and everyone rallied around and worked hard to restore all the damaged garden beds, reinstate the pathways (again!) and replant what had managed to survive the drought but had drowned in the floods. It became such a battle of attrition at times as there were always acres of weeds, including the persistent Scottish and variegated thistles, the hateful sticky weed, revolting nightshade, hemlock, horehound, and neverending capeweed. Periwinkle had become invasive too, but even this started to look really good when kept under control.
In January 2006, continuing with the theme of Ercildoune disasters, I received a phone call from Leo, our neighbour over the road that a fire was burning out of control on the top of Mount Misery. This was because of a lightning strike in an area that is full of granite boulders with some forming a cave-like area where the bushranger Gowrie was said to have hidden. So we had to stay vigilant in case it reached us at Ercildoune, and were offered help from concerned friends with moving the horses if need be, but the local fieries were soon on the scene and over 20 CFA appliances attended the fire, including a fire bombing helicopter due to its difficult location. Steve owned much of the land and ended up with a very good road system around his property as they had been formed as firebreaks. (*The worst bushfire ever was the Black Thursday Bushfires of 1851, so during the Learmonth era, and this was apparently started because of 2 bullock drivers leaving some logs burning that set fire to the long dry grass. Melbourne was experiencing over 47°C in the shade. These fires burnt an area of approximately 5 million hectares, that is one quarter of Victoria, and tragically 12 lives were lost including one man who lost his wife and 5 children and he barely survived when trying to rescue one of his children. So many animals perished too, including domestic and native animals by the thousands. It was estimated that 1 million sheep had died.)
Then a windfarm reared its ugly head and spoilt our lovely rural views, and they impacted on the lives of many other people in the area, some consequently suffering from ill health, so life in the country was no longer as enjoyable as we’d envisaged. One woman went on television saying that she came to the area “To grow nuts, not go nuts.” It seems that the local historical properties are windfarm magnets as two other magnificent properties have had their share of battles in order to try and have these huge towers not spoil some of their views at least. We had a delegation of windfarm people visit Ercildoune as we had protested that the three towers on Mount Ercildoune were just too close for comfort, so I took them in to the Walled Garden so that they could appreciate how imposing they would look from there, especially around such an historical property, and they did actually concede to move them back a bit. But all in all, we did meet loads of lovely people from the many Probus and Garden Clubs, had an historic or vintage car club visit, a horror film crew was allowed access to the property so that many scenes were shot at Ercildoune and there is still some fake blood on the shearing shed floor where some poor young lass had bled fake blood after having her tongue cut out by the Banshee, or something like that. We ended up and still do, receive enquiries from relatives of the first three owners or their employees. I met with quite a few of them when we owned it, and one woman contacted me to say that she was a grand-daughter of the second owner Sir Samuel Wilson, and when Ercildoune had come up for sale, she said she’d even written to Lord Huntingdon and Barbara Cartland, who are somehow related, to see if they’d be interested in forming a consortium to buy Ercildoune!
Some old photos labelled pre-1875 on the Museum Victoria website show Ercildoune as a one-storey house with a verandah. There are garden beds in front of the house. I thought two lines of roses could be reinstated but others thought it was probably best to leave it as lawn. At one stage there was also a lovely fountain in front of the homestead too, but this had been removed for some unknown reason, but we put a smaller one in. Someone connected to the property managed to get hold of some of the original Spencer Street Station platform (now called Southern Cross), that still showed the white line that the crowds had to stand behind, and we had this placed along the garden bed beside the croquet lawn. We also had Dame Nellie’s alleged tennis court green concrete made in to a crazy paving area beside the tennis court. I also found out that the Walled Garden had at one stage had pipes installed capable of emitting steam in order to aid the growth of the more tropical plants. This area now looked rather forlorn with only a few trees left, including a beautiful, but rather one-sided Golden Elm that is pictured as a very small tree in the Australian Home Beautiful Magazine dated 1929. There was also a Canary Island Date Palm planted here, one of 3 planted at Ercildoune, and one of the famous garden designer associated with the infamous Melbourne Botanical Gardens, William Guilfoyle’s signature plantings too, and he did design much of the garden at Mawallok near Beaufort and possibly Bangongil near Skipton. Maybe he even popped in for a chat with Samuel Wilson’s head gardener, R. G. Crowley, as he was a member of the Royal Botanical Society of Regent Park, London.
One of the previous owners had also tried to breed ostriches, just like Sir Samuel Wilson, so we had these fences replaced with more suitable fencing for our horses, and we ran some sheep or cattle, depending on the current mood, as whenever we bought sheep, my husband John usually said “we’re not having sheep ever again as they are a pain…..” as they do need a fair bit of work, and then switched back to cattle instead. Stripping down to his underwear and pulling out a sheep stuck in the mud didn’t improve matters either, but eventually we settled on raising Dorper sheep, as they didn’t need shearing, as we found the cost of shearers rather costly. We bought 6 alpacas to help protect the lambs from marauding foxes, and they have such inquisitive and expressive faces, but they’re not so cute when being shorn, which they have to be annually, and they’re tied up in something that looks a bit like a block and tackle and are therefore inclined to show their resentment by spitting, and they also need a Vitamin D shot to keep them healthy. We re-stocked the once peacock and Japanese pheasant filled aviary with some less exotic chooks, and there is nothing nicer than the bright yolks of their eggs from them free-ranging, but boy they can make a mess digging through all the newly layed mulch. We were given a rooster and it was lovely rearing chickens. We had bought two ferrets as a bit of a novelty birthday present for our son, but the two became one ferret called ‘Fred’ as one managed to do a Houdini and escape from his cage. Fred became pals with the stray cat we named ‘Eva’ until I accidentally ran over him so he was buried in the garden. Another ginger moggy ‘Indy’ lived to a decent age after our son Michael found it almost starved to death up in the hills. Fred the ferret had also lived temporarily with a blow-in orange ferret but he disappeared again one day but I have a great picture of him hanging off the top rack in the dishwasher, that I took before he was quickly extricated very carefully from this appliance just in case it had something contagious, but they do have quite sharp teeth. A white Goshawk also smashed through a kitchen window, but was eventually shooed out unscathed, plus every year the little bats would breed in the chimneys and attach themselves to the back of the curtains and some would sadly perish in vases or anything with a hollow spot for them to nest in. We were also awoken some nights, by our dog frantically barking at a possum with its baby clinging on and that had somehow found its way in to the hunting room. Another time, the water wasn’t flowing as it should, and a large eel had to be extricated out of one of the main water pumps at the furthest dam called Bishop’s Dam. The Australian wildlife definitely doesn’t respect anyone’s gardens either, and there were many very destructive critters around, including the hares, rabbits and the particularly annoying squawking cockatoos.
Whilst the ostrich fencing was being replaced, we kept some young thoroughbred and Arabian foals in the Walled Garden for safekeeping. (*They didn’t end up Melbourne Cup winners, but we did have a home-bred thoroughbred filly win at Kyneton, and another one bred with another trainer win in a dead heat at the Burrumbeet Races. We even had a few youngsters with Darren Weir, and he even visited Ercildoune to inspect them, but we didn’t keep them with him for very long as we didn’t want him to waste his time with them, and he has gone ahead in leaps and bounds since those days to be one of Australia’s leading trainers. The closest we came to the Melbourne Cup was when a friend called Arthur, whom we’d met from being in a racehorse syndicate, apparently asked Darren whether he had a horse he could go in before he croaked it, and of course he was lucky enough to be offered Prince of Penzance.)
After the horses were transferred out of the Walled Garden to the newly fenced paddocks, we then started the massive task of planting hundreds of new bulbs, shrubs, roses and trees. John arranged for a wooden gate to be made for the larger entrance, and he also managed to engage a very talented local blacksmith who built an amazing wrought iron arbour that would divide the walled garden in to two sections. We felt this was a better solution than reinstating the once impressive conifer hedges that are known to be susceptible to canker. We sadly couldn’t replicate those classic garden rooms that were achieved probably by the second owner’s gardener as pictured in a Russell Grimwade photo of 1928, but the iron arbour looked wonderful, especially with laburnum and climbing roses growing all over it.
Another intriguing artefact in the garden, is the 2000 year old, Palestinian Wellhead apparently brought to Australia from the Holy Land. Heritage Victoria had informed us that this had been illegally removed from the property not long before Ercildoune had been put on the market, and there was only a flattened circular area in the grass on where it once stood. John ‘found a way’ (that included a generous monetary offer) to have it returned to its rightful place, thank goodness, and there has now been a covenant put in place stating that it is never to be removed from Ercildoune. This story even made the local TV news and the front page of The Ballarat Courier dated 30 May, 2001, stating that “Last week, Ercildoune owners John and Christine Dever (now feeling a little bit silly having just been coerced by the Journalist to have our picture taken standing inside the Wellhead), settled the matter before Supreme Court proceedings, for $20,000, and the ancient piece, believed to be about 2000 years old, was transported from Essendon to the Ercildoune garden. Heritage Council Chair Catherine Heggen said Heritage Victoria was delighted to see the Well-head back where it belonged. Owners must always remember they are custodians of Victoria’s heritage,” and “We applaud the initiative taken by John Dever and we wish him every success in his efforts to recover more of the homestead’s original features.” One lady told me at an Open Garden Day that Jesus had even drunk water from it! It had been alleged that Sir Samuel Wilson’s sons had brought it to Australia, as a special gift to be installed at his father’s favourite property, and that the Wellhead remained hidden it in the hold of a sailing ship for two years before it was brought up to Ercildoune by bullock wagon from Geelong. The brothers were consequently fined, what would have been a whopping £63,000 by the Egyptian Government, who took them to Court in London, for trespassing on consecrated ground (The Argus August 28, 1935 page 13). (*There is a mysterious entry in the 1905 expenses ledger under Miscellaneous Expenses stating that the amount of £4.15.3 for transporting a Venetian wellhead should have been debited to the Garden account, and this would indicate that maybe this Wellhead, or was it another Wellhead arrived 10 years after the Wilson sons’ father’s death, as others have stated that it was a gift by them to Sir Samuel Wilson for his favourite place?)
Of course gardens need continuity to remain looking at their best and now we had the challenge of re-creating some substantial perennial borders in the Walled Garden, so I ended up with a huge collection of gardening books that I used to buy at the Outlet shops on the cheap. I also loved reading about people like Edna Walling and visited our fabulous Botanical Gardens in Melbourne and the Rhododendron Gardens at Olinda, on Mount Dandenong, (now known as the Dandenong Ranges Botanical Garden), plus some of our fabulous mansion gardens such as Werribee Park, Ripon Lee and Como, and any other historical gardens I could find. I had done an Advanced Certificate of Horticulture Course at Burnley (University of Melbourne), where I met some wonderful teachers and assorted people, including a fellow garden enthusiast and now great friend Karen. (*She came up with a great map for distribution on Open Days, and she also offered advice on some plant choices as well. She has gone on to have her own successful garden design business, and unlike me, can create gardening plans and also being extremely creative, she’s added silversmithing to her repertoire and making stunning jewellery, some along botanical lines of course. The Walled Garden eventually started to evolve, a bit like a giant jigsaw puzzle really, as we tried to re-create the layers that were needed for it to look attractive again, as well as adhering to its historical significance. It is one of the biggest challenges for gardeners everywhere to create yearlong interest and to plant harmoniously as to not have too many different plants clashing with others in both form and colour and I mainly enjoyed choosing the plants by just walking around the various plant nurseries. They say that you plant trees for the next generation to sit under, and one of the last plantings we did was of two advanced Moreton Bay figs that we had trucked down from Sydney.)
We also had a go at growing carrots for seed and that was not an easy task as we lost much of the seed by moving the crop from the paddock to the hayshed, but we still made a small profit. We believe that it was the second owner, or his offspring, that may have made some Elderberry wine there, as the Learmonths were teetotallers. But I’m not at all teetotall, so outside the walled garden we planted a vineyard, fought off the birds as best as we could, and had an Ercildoune Shiraz made, after giving up on the Chardonnay vines, and our son Michael designed the label for our very first vintage. Unfortunately some of the other vintages didn’t taste quite as good so we put that on the backburner along with breeding cheapish racehorses, as we now had to direct our funds into the many projects around the place. We also attempted to espalier many varieties of fruit trees to the outside granite wall, as was done in the olden days, so the local wildlife must have been salivating at the future prospect of a smorgasboard fruit selection. We planted a fairly substantial she-oak forest to indulge my love of Casaurinas. And at least I could embrace my love of roses, as did the previous owners, except for having to prune so many of them, but I stopped complaining when I read how the gardeners at Versaille had to disbud 48,000 trees. We didn’t plant quite that many but I really enjoyed choosing them online thereby ordering them from Rankins Roses of Officer (with Delbard Roses becoming one of my favourite roses), Treloar Roses (Portland) and Garden Express (Monbulk). We also mail-ordered hundreds of bulbs from J. N. Hancock & Co. (Menzies Creek) and Tesselaar, and we even grew some tulips, but mainly kept them in the shadehouse which was always full of our latest purchases. Many other plants were from wonderful plant nurseries like The Diggers Club (Dromana), Mistydowns (Springmount), the fantastic Lambleys Nursery (Ascot), the Ross Creek Nursery, Avalon Nursery (Haddon), Formosa Nursery, Conifer Gardens Nursery at Olinda, and Growmaster (Ballarat), along with a good local discount nursery down this way called Diaco’s Heatherton. I probably should have purchased some more of the rarer, or older varieties of some plants and trees, especially in the fruit and nut orchard, and I’ve since managed to find out more about what was originally planted there over the years.
I wanted to share Ercildoune with those interested in it, but my husband wasn’t that keen, but eventually agreed to Open Gardens and there were plenty of outbuildings and other interesting things to see. We had a good sized crowd of about 700 people attending our first Open Garden Day in April 2007 and donated the profits from one of the Australian Open Garden Scheme events to Farmers in Drought to be districuted by the CWA. The Ballarat and District Division of General Practice organized an event called ‘Diamonds in the Dust’ that was held in a large marquee at Ercildoune for a number of years, with helpful advice and medical check-ups available for the women affected by drought too, and the inspirational Ita Buttrose was invited as a guest speaker. Another neighbour was a member of the University of Ballarat Pipe Band and asked if could help them in competing at the 2011 World Pipe Band Championships to be held in Scotland. The Pipe Major Bradley Saul was the youngest Pipe Major in the country at the age of 22. So after another successful opening in 2009 when about 500 people attended, we donated $2,000 to the Pipe Band, who sadly couldn’t perform that day because of the persistently overcast weather that included a dumping of 50mls of rain but $400 was also raised from the food and drink sold in the Shearing Shed for the Learmonth Junior Football and Netball Clubs. We started opening the gardens on Mothers’ Days too, and left an honesty box for gold coin donations, and this event was very well patronized, with a huge crowd of about 2000 turning up in 2008, and catering for everyone, especially all the cars that day was quite a challenge. At other Open Days it rained so much that the Car Park became rather boggy, with some people being towed out, so my husband even arranged for a huge delivery of granite sand that he spread out with his tractor, then he had to get a huge delivery of rock as well, and all this was taking place just to alleviate more bogged cars. During all this organized chaos, he managed to direct traffic, but then had his foot runover by a car. How we envied those lovely bitumen car parks that the National Trust properties usually have in England! We opened in November 2011 and raised $3,000 for the CFA and Soldier’s Hall, Burrumbeet. Most of our wonderful family and friends gave up their time to assist us at these Open Days, and other hardworking locals regularly put on food and beverages in the Shearing Shed, that made the open days even more special, and this also raised money for the local school. One lovely man sent a thank you letter with a cheque for $100 stating that a gold coin donation was not enough and he really appreciated seeing the old Buick Roadster (apparently it had a manual updraft carburetor) and the old Dodge Ute, courtesy of John’s attendance at one of the Shannons Car Auctions. (*Since 1981 Shannons has been Australia’s leading auction house for veteran, vintage, classic, sports and modified vehicles, as well as classic motorcycles, automotive memorabilia and number plate sales.) Both of these vehicles were of a decent age (1920’s) as they even had wooden spokes in their wheels.
We ended up with a great team of workers at Ercildoune though, and the first builder Kelvin, recommended Robin to help in the garden, and Robin recommended Peter to help with the brickwork etc, and Peter then recommended Ted, another builder, who was a whirlwind of productivity along with his wife Helena who was nearly always there helping with anything she could lay her hands on too. Peter did a great job in trying to rebuild the sheepwash and along with Ted, could rebuild almost anything, including the internal chimney in the Old Mens Quarters I think it was, plus they repaired many other damaged areas in the outbuildings.
John and I worked tirelessly during nearly every visit trying to complete our long list of jobs before returning to Melbourne most Sunday nights. And we did enjoy many a sausage sizzle at the Ballarat Bunnings. At one stage the gardening and maintenance expenses for Ercildoune were starting to become quite exhorbitant, as to be expected with such an historic property, and the frustrations started to outweigh the enjoyment of it all, so we felt it was time to pull up stumps and move back to suburbia, but then I found an advertisement for a rather termite ridden, just under 1000 acre, sheep farm on a flood plain (and we did experience the creeks rising once again) at a place called Molka. Molka only had 4 letterboxes as its claim to fame and the farm was about 20 minutes from Euroa. Once more we tidied up and replanted the garden and had the house and the Shearing Shed renovated that could only have been made possible by our marvellous builder Ted and his wife Helena. We hoped to retire there, and we did love the historical township of Euroa, but even that proposition seemed a bridge too far, especially as there was much more termite damage than expected. Plus the mice were fairly persistent there as well, and I remember the first time I placed all the linen we had in the Ercildoune linen cupboards, only to later find them to be a perfect nesting area for mice, so we tried our best to plug up every hole with steel wool as they also loved living under the refrigerator too. Now we’re hoping to spend a more peaceful retirement, in the near future, on a small farm on Phillip Island. Our neighbour leases our land, and has recently donated the hay he cut from it to some drought stricken farmers. This hay was also wrapped in pink plastic and that supported the Breast Cancer cause too. In this uncertain world we now live in, I think that it is uplifting to share some of the positive news about the generous acts of the decent people sharing this planet, who are always prepared to help when ‘the chips are down.’
We did end up meeting some of the interesting locals including our great neighbours Leo and Shirley Coulter, who would regularly knock up a great sponge when we caught up with them on a regular basis for afternoon tea. They kept an eye out too, but sadly Leo is no longer with us, and he is greatly missed, but the Coulter family has had a long association with Ercildoune. Leo used to drive Lady Currie in to town occasionally too. His father Wilfred Coulter worked there during his lifetime as well and included in his job description was that of being ‘station mechanic’ (Argus 10/11/1950), and Leo’s grandfather had worked at the property as an overseer before him.
We were entertained by quite a few stories about Ercildoune being haunted during our time there, some to do with hearing footsteps upstairs, and other people having the sensation of feeling pushed. Even an antique dealer doing a delivery said ‘I do not know what is your water but on the way down your drive I felt someone beside me in the truck and I felt as if they were talking and laughing. When I came to the road gate I felt they left and as I headed on to the bitumen I felt as though someone was waving. A strange and first-time experience for me – but a real feeling of happiness and protectiveness about the person (young between 6-10 years old, dark hair and lace-up boots). No I am not mad but I had to share this one with you. I think you have a very happy protector looking after your house.’ He finished off by saying ‘don’t show this letter to anyone.’ Another letter was from a man that had been employed to do some restoration work both inside and out, and when painting in the bedroom where the Duke of Gloucester stayed, he said he had a rather scary experience that still haunts him of a ghostly image that still makes him shiver. Other friends saw little girls in trees or women sitting in chairs and my husband and I thought our friend’s children had arrived and were giggling about something – but there was no-one there. We were told that Ercildoune had become a bit of a party house, when it was no longer lived in, where all the locals would gather on occasion, and one time they held a sceance. The electricity had been turned off at the metre but a light started flickering on and off as the old organ started moving across the floor allegedly unassisted. (*And I’m not saying that this is 100% truth and I’ll let my source remain anonymous!) Needless to say there could have been some alcohol involved at the time, but this is of course totally unsubstantiated. I had my personal experience having once awoken in the small hours of the morning not being able to move or talk and could only manage a squeak for quite a few minutes (how my husband would have loved that to be a permanent thing.) He was absent at the time and a girlfriend had been staying that night, so I told her that I had probably had a really disturbing dream and she said she’d thought she’d heard men arguing outside her room in the middle of the night too. It certainly peaked the imagination with another intriguing lady, who had worked occasionally at Ercildoune, giving me a picture of the long row of enormous Monterey Pines, that was once probably kept as a hedge to formalize the tennis court area, stating that if you turned the picture around, you could see the Mother Mary and her child at the end of this line of trees, an illusion seemingly caused by the curvature of the branches. (*Maybe she was the same woman who told me that Jesus himself had partaken of drinking water from the Wellhead.)
But even though it became a labour of love (albeit a money pit too), it always seemed to feel like two steps forward, three steps back, but in the end we could be proud of what was achieved there, and most Sunday nights we would return to Melbourne, quite exhausted, with John dictating to me the latest list of jobs that needed doing, whilst I contemplated what to do next in the garden. It was extra frustrating that we really only managed to stay there most weekends, and I started calling Ercildoune ‘our weekender’ and silently wished that John could become a full-time farmer at least! We finally managed to live at Ercildoune full-time, but only for a few years, but at least we managed to have quite a few Busloads of gardening or history loving people visit us during this special time and we were included on the itinerary when The Garden Clubs of Australia visited when they held their Convention at Ballarat in 2013 and that was hosted by The Friends of the Ballarat Botanical Gardens. And I’ve received many, and kept all, of the lovely letters of appreciation regarding our achievements at Ercildoune. We felt that we deserved a little pat on the back for overcoming many of the challenges so far, and received so many encouraging comments in the Open Garden Visitors Book too, including: “Sensational – Mammoth effort over a short period – congratulations – very tastefully done’ and another said “Simply simply wonderful – no need to tour Europe!’ Another supportive comment was “Absolutely Perfect! (beats the beach).” And ‘Stunning! Too Stunning!” Another lady said she’d like to stay all day. The Beaufort Historical Society said that “the gardens looked a treat – the Walled Garden just begging for ladies in crinolines and men in top hats.” The Learmonth and District Historical Society in a letter dated 19th May 2004 stated – “Most of us were overwhelmed to see how much you have achieved in such a short time and several of those, who knew it well in earlier days were quite emotional about the change for the better after so many years when it appeared to be almost beyond restoration.”
Some of the willows growing on the property around many of the waterways were apparently grown from cuttings, “as big as walking sticks” taken from the willows planted around Napoleon’s grave that is situated on an island called St. Helena, located about 4,000 kilometres from the east of Rio de Janeiro. The Learmonth brothers had apparently chartered a ship and had to make a stopover at the island for water. Many of the original trees, including oak, elm, poplar, chestnut and plane trees, were shipped over in pots from their native Scotland. Some of the Heritage Listed trees included two ancient bunya trees (also known as the ‘false monkey puzzle’) and we were always picking up their extremely prickly branchlets. Occasionally a huge cone would drop to the ground and they would make a significant indentation in the lawn. They are edible too and their flavour is apparently similar to that of a chestnut, but these can grow so large that they occasionally injure people when they fall off, as some cones have even reached a staggering 18 kilograms in size. There were also deodars and Blue Atlas cedars, Douglas and Spanish firs, Bhutan cypress, Chinese juniper, Japanese cedar, Akiraho, Lindens, a magnificent row of the Osage oranges that produce a very interesting looking fruit. The wood was used by American Indians to make bow and arrows with. We planted another row of these along another fenceline. There was also Irish strawberry trees, that do bear fruit resembling miniature strawberries but sadly not as nearly as enjoyable to eat, Portuguese Laurels that make a great hedge, English and pin oaks, a variety of Wych elms including Golden and Weeping, plus Dutch and English elms, desert ash a Western Yellow pine, a huge Californian redwood, Oriental plane trees, and the Norfolk Island Hibiscus that was planted by the Duke of Gloucester. There are some huge brightly coloured rhododendrons and there was also once a huge walnut tree in existence, (mentioned as being 50 feet high in 1901) and we were told that it had been cut down for firewood.
I have been collecting and researching any information pertaining to Ercildoune, for well over a decade now, and I did quite an extensive history for the Ercildoune website when we owned the property between 1999 and 2014. I do use Wikipedia for a lot of information too, therefore not everything is guaranteed to be 100% accurate, as such a wide variety of people contribute to these sites. Newspapers aren’t 100% accurate either, but I thought that some of the newspaper articles from the National Library’s Trove Website would help paint the best picture of what was achieved, not only by the Learmonths, but by the second and third owners too. But I’ll get around to them another day. One of my favourite articles is when the Learmonths had all of the employees there to celebrate New Year’s Eve 1871, and that must have been an amazing sight to behold, although sad, as they were making plans to leave. Some believe they sold up because they lost the Court Case they were involved in and how aggravating would it have been to hear the defendants ringing the bells to rub it in. Plus they had been challenged to the limit, having been held up by bushrangers, had stock and equipment stolen on numerous occasions, bushfires and floods and pyromaniacs to deal with, in what must have felt like an uphill battle time after time, dealing with the myriads of problems, they would have faced almost on a daily basis, in running such a large enterprise that involved large numbers of people living on their property. I think that like us, there was probably that one last thing that became “the straw that broke the camel’s back”. So they too pulled up stumps and eventually moved to their other sheep/cattle properties in New South Wales.
There is a saying in Australia called the tall poppy syndrome and I think that it was alive and kicking even way back then. Some one had to be first to colonize this country, and even though they received significantly negative responses by some members of the community, they need to carve out a living and naturally did what was best for their families, but they also gave so generously to everyone that they felt deserved it. (*The first evidence for tall poppy in Australian records dates back to 1871 and occurs in a newspaper story about the Chief’s Secretary of the colony of Victoria taking the ‘tall poppies’ into government. The term continued to be used in Australia into the twentieth century to describe conspicuously successful people, but evidence suggests that these tall poppies were frequently viewed with envy and even resentment…from Oxford Dictionaries.
But…there are over thousands of articles associated with the name Ercildoune and the Learmonth’s, and not all to do with the Burrumbeet property itself, as there is the Scottish Earlston (Ercildoun) where they originally came from, plus a former National Bank c1876 of the same name in Footscray, here in Australia. There is another rural property of the same name in New South Wales, and it is also the name of a hamlet in Pennsylvania, USA. There was also a racehorse called Ercildoune and a horserace called the Ercildoune Stakes. Then there’s the different spelling of names and Ercildoun has many variations as does Bunninyong once called Bunnenyong by the early European settlers. Ballarat was spelt Ballaarat in the early days. Then there are Livingston’s and Livingstone’s, Learmouth’s, Learmont and Learmonth’s. So it ultimately became a rather time consuming task, sifting through what was relevant or interesting, but I think it is probably worthwhile to provide another record of this important chapter of pioneering history that some authors of the newspaper articles state, should never be lost. Thank goodness we have wonderful resources like Trove and the National Library of Australia, who have put so many of these newspapers articles online. It is truly wonderful living in this era of electronic information, that is available just at arms length. When we first purchased Ercildoun, we drove up to the National Library of Australia in Canberra and went through their boxes of manuscripts and that’s where we also saw the Learmonth Diary for the first time. I also ventured in to the State Library of Victoria and armed myself with spools of newspapers articles and after many challenging attempts in loading them on to the viewing machines etc printed off many stories and was greatly excited to see pictures of the olden days. As usual, with most things I do, I have managed to go off on many tangents, but generally find out so many more extra snippets of interesting information, so that I now have many folders of relevant, (and irrelevant) information pertaining to Ercildoune.
So many articles recount the tale of their famous ancestor Thomas the Rhymer, and there are over 30 references to him in this document. Many stories regarding the brothers are repeated in many newspaper articles, as it seemed that most of the Tasmanian, Eastern and Southern based Australian newspapers wanted to print stories about the Learmonth’s. I’m sure there are many other Australian pioneers who possibly have similar stories to tell, as they strived to come to grips with a totally different land that was home to many different tribes of aborigines that have the oldest continuous culture on the planet dating back some 75,000 years. Yet these newcomers overcame the expected resistance to them setting up home in the interiors of this vast land, but they eventually found ways to tame the wilderness that greeted them, and they treated everyone as fairly as they could. It was quite miraculous that so many of them arrived here alive in the various types of ships that included paddle steamers, clippers, schooners, barques, brigs, the ketch, sloops, or the fully rigged ships. Apparently there are 8,000 shipwrecks off the Australian coastline. I really can’t imagine how the women, especially travelling with children coped, dealing with such a long and dangerous voyage in cramped and unsanitary conditions, especially in the smaller ships. There are so many shipwrecks strewn around the coast of Australia and there were around 60 shipwrecks around Tasmania in the 19th century according to Wikipedia. It would have been horrendous sailing through storms in unchartered seas, capsizing or crashing on to unseen reefs or rocks, and many vessels were listed as foundered, ran aground, involved in a collision, or missing. I wonder how many people and animals perished over the years on these long journeys and, it is hard to believe, that with the odds so stacked against them, how many people were still desperate enough to start a brand new life in Australia, that started off as a convict dumping ground with the huge English hulks dumping the worst of England’s criminals here. Not that stealing a handkerchief, or worse still, stealing a loaf of bread to feed a starving family should have been transportable offences. (*In 1842, a new packet service between Sydney and Melbourne was contracted to Benjamin Boyd, to carry mail, apparently worth £200 for every trip. His vessel was called the Sea Horse and had originally come out to Hobart from London in April 1841. It did not succeed due to lack of patronage but his contract only lasted 10 months as the Sea Horse had suffered severe damage after running aground near George Town in Tasmania. She made the run to Sydney in 73 hours after being refloated but she ended up being sold as a “shark hulk” in 1849 and Benjamin Boyd shot through after all his other ventures apparently failed too.)
Sadly many of them failed to survive here because of the harshness of it all, and I can’t even imagine how many of the women coped with childbirth, then raising their large families out in the middle of nowhere, without much medical assistance. Even the explorers Burke and Wills died because of how hard it was to survive in areas away from the coastline. There aren’t many poisonous animals in the United Kingdom, and it seems that Australia has made up for that and inherited some of the worst poisonous arachnids and slithery horrors. Five or our snakes have made it in to the top ten most venomous in the world including tiger, brown black and red-bellied black snakes. I’ve also included a sad story (Barrier Miner, 23/1/2015) about 3 of the rabbiters’ dogs (fox terriers) being fatally bitten by one tiger snake. (*Not sure if the pioneers ever encountered our Australian redback spider under the toilet seat, but two Aussie spiders have made the world’s top-ten most venomous, with funnel-webs and red-backs being listed. If I’d read about any of these horrors over in the United Kingdom, then I would never have left there, as their wildlife sounds almost demure compared to ours.)
Some say that the Scottish succeeded so well in establishing themselves in this country because of the hard and tenacious characteristics inherent in them and the Learmonth’s are certainly a testament to that, having worked so incredibly hard for over 40 years, as well as being God fearing, tee-totalling men, of great intellect and impeccable moral fibre. They had ancestry steeped in folklore that included a very famous laird and prophet called Thomas they Rhymer (died in 1298AD) who was abducted by none other than the Queen of Elfland for a period of 7 years. Even though they hark back to ancestors who were rather famous, they were still dour Scots, and Thomas even stated in his Will that he wanted his funeral conducted with the utmost simplicity and for the smallest expense possible. The place where they previously ran sheep in the surrounding foothills, way back in 1837, is now a town called Learmonth that is located 136 kilometres west of Melbourne. The original local government office headquarters of the Shire of Ballarat were located there. A major road from Burrumbeet (*an aboriginal word for muddy waters) in to Ballarat was named after the brothers, and a body of water called Lake Learmonth, still used for all types of water sports. There is also a street named after the brothers in Buninyong where they first established themselves. Buninyong is aboriginal for a man lying on his back with knees raised. It is located 125 kilometres north-west of Melbourne and lays claim to being one of Victoria’s first inland townships.
But the Learmonth brothers were braver than most and were used to being uprooted as Thomas and Somerville had been born in Calcutta, India. But their Scottish heritage was steeped in the border country, where folklore, myths and legends are commonplace. The Scottish Thistle was their national floral emblem (but it is an annoying weed over here) and the mythological unicorn, the national animal. Scotland had a long history of battles, where tough men wore their Clan’s tartans with pride, tossed cabers, ate haggis and drank whisky and occasionally did a Scottish fling, but where many believed in parallel worlds inhabited by imaginary folk that included the occasional Fairy Queen. In the Mercury dated 11/1/1919 it states ‘What delight has come to the world for ages because of those delightful visions of fairy kings and queens and gallant knights that Thomas of Ercildoune dreamed of in Scotland’s Border Land”…. The Australian aborigines have survived as the earth’s oldest race, and they too have a belief in ancestral beings that is linked to the Dreamtime and Dreaming (not the same thing) and they believe that the land and the people were created by spirits, and there are many sacred (and secret) sites linked to their strong beliefs. Australia surely contains many of the world’s strangest animals including kangaroos, emus and the bizarre looking platypus that looks like two different animals stuck together. (*We’ve recently come back from a drive to Broken Hill and its quite amazing to see groups of emus looking quite at home ambling around the main roads – but some didn’t fare too well getting out of the way of the faster travelling traffic on the outback roads, and used to inhabit the creeks of Ercildoune, but then arsenic used to cure sheep scab etc possibly seeped into the waterways and ruined their habitat.)
Even the colours of the landscape are more vivid in Australia in comparison to the muted tones Britain. The Australian outback has bright red soils and a vibrant green and gold landscape under cloudless blue skies, where wattles and eucalyptus trees, some species emitting a blue haze as seen in the Blue Mountains, New South Wales. (*The haze becomes evident when isoprenes escape in to the atmosphere with some scientists believing it is possibly a form of pest-control, a bit like they’re spraying themselves with Aeroguard!) Australian trees have a different agenda to the most of the trees they knew back in their homeland, surviving the harsh conditions because of their unique regeneration capabilities after a bushfire, in that they can be burnt almost to a black crisp and then regenerate via their epicormic buds.
But the second owner, the Irish born Sir Samuel Wilson, referred to in The Sun 4th May, 1985, as the “eccentric millionaire” was also a very driven person too, and at the height of his residency at Ercildoune, he employed 125 staff and 6 out of his 13 gardeners were flower gardeners! His life had sometimes become intertwined with the Learmonth’s because of their pastoral interests, and his offspring too married in to some very famous families that included Royalty. His ancestor, John Wilson, born in 1740, married Elizabeth Kilpatrick, whose lineage ran back to Robert the Bruce. They had ten sons and two daughters, and the seventh son Samuel, had eight sons and seven daughters, and three sons, Charles, Alexander and a bit later on their brother Samuel also emigrated to Australia. Like Thomas Learmonth, his sons wanted to enlist in the wars and Samuel Wilson had 3 of his 4 sons killed in battle and the only surviving son was so badly wounded and was later described as being of unsound mind. What a big price to pay for the Wilson family. Sir Samuel had died at only 63 years of age in 1895. He had also become a member of the Legislative Assembly of Victoria, and the Western Province in the Legislative Council, but he was knighted in 1875, and left to reside and enjoy their wealth and consequent status in England too, but after he had added on the huge back section to the Homestead (*I can’t be100% it was him but most likely.) He had the incredible Walled Garden built where the Kempfer Iris made way for the Rose, and that amazing space was also used as a private picnic ground for the likes of Dame Nellie Melba and other special guests. The curvilinear conservatory is credited to him also, that is sadly no longer in existence, but no-one knows what really happened to it. Maybe it was an Act of God. Lady Currie’s conservatory was also destroyed, but by some gardeners trying to ‘carefully’ remove a nearby overhanging branch. He is also credited with having the back hills fenced off for a 300 acre deer park. One newspaper reported that he “purloined” the 2000 year old Wellhead. He made great improvements at Longerenong (near Horsham) in regard to improving productivity with irrigation schemes and apart from sheep, he was also interested in angora goats and axis deer, and he and his two brothers shared the agistment of the camels between their various properties that now totalled a staggering 750,000 acres, both before and after the ill-fated Burke and Wills Expedition. He was interested in birds and trees too, and there is mention of him having ostriches, peacocks, white swans and Ceylon peafowl and Bunya-Bunya pines and Osage oranges (as were grown at Ercildoune), plus Norfolk Island Pines, Cassava (*Maybe something to do with tapioca), and Moreton Bay Figs. The Learmonth’s had imported white swans, larks and thrushes, and had also attempted, but were denied purchase of 12 Angora goats from the Ballarat Agricultural & Pastoral Society too. And like the Learmonth’s, Sir Samuel’s first child sadly died and is buried at his Longerenong property near Horsham. (*The owners of Longerenong had contacted us, and other owners (‘caretakers’) of similarly run down Heritage listed properties, and we all met at their magnificent property with the idea of forming a discussion group of like minded people that could have also offered mutual support as things to become quite daunting at times. They told us how heartbreaking things could be too, as they’d planted many trees only to see them destroyed by rabbits.)
It’s probably quite obvious now that these first two owners had grand ideas, with the Irishman possibly being more flamboyant than the Scottish brothers, but I think that it was through their mutual desire to succeed in a foreign country, and they did this at seemingly everything they put their hand to, but with the ultimate aim to keep improving the quality of our sheep and wool here in Australia. They ended up impressing the world, which was no mean feat in itself, because there were many obstacles to be overcome, including the tyranny of distance living in Australia for a start. And mainly due to their raw determination as well as an innate knowledge of the market place and animal husbandry, possibly coupled with some wise advice on breeding from other experts in the field too, like Thomas Shaw Senior and then his son. Shaw Senior was a Yorkshire born wool sorter in boyhood, and later became a wool buyer and preparer of wools for various manufacturers. (*His attention was drawn early to wools from Australia, and he noticed ‘inexplicable’ changes and deterioration in their quality. His employers in London responded to a request from Robert Campbell & Co., Sydney for ‘a competent person as buyer and sorter and instructor of sorters’, he travelled to Australia observing climatic, soil and working conditions, noting the casual and unselective methods of sheep-breeding that were being used on many properties. Helped by Gideon Scott Lang he published a pamphlet, The Australian Merino, that urged Australian growers to consider precisely what English buyers wanted, to breed sheep fit for the purpose, and to prepare their wool better, particularly by washing it more carefully before shearing. He was described as a tough, aggressive little man, but was engaged by the Curries and Learmonth’s who ended up breeding high quality prize-winning merino sheep, as well as breeding fine Hereford cattle (see newspaper article in The Australasian dated April 12, 1941) and superior draught horses. They even bred pigs at Buninyong, and also had an interest in assisting the Acclimatization Society of Ballarat, setting up fish breeding ponds and hatcheries at Ercildoun, in order to breed and distribute trout amongst the local waterways.)
The third owners were Lady Muriel and Sir H. Alan Currie. They lived at Ercildoune from 1920 until Sir Alan died there in 1942. During this period of ownership, Ercildoune was featured in The Australian Home Beautiful dated February 1929 and September 1934. More recently it has been featured in The Australian House and Garden (March 2010), story by Sandy Guy, and Country Estates of Australia, Cottages, Farmhouses, Manors and Mansions by Janelle McCulloch (2006), and we’re all so proud that it was chosen to be included in the latest Australian House and Garden publication called Great Australian Gardens (2015; reprinted 2018), and it was included in Ballarat’s Heritage (Mother’s Day) weekend for several years. (*Ercildoune was sold again 22 years after Sir Alan’s death by Lady Currie’s Estate in 1964, after having only three owners between 1838 and 1964). Another book called The Life and Times of Thomas of Ercildoune ‘The Rhymer’ written by Elzabeth Burton (2012), who states in the Acknowledgements section – ‘ I would also like to acknowledge the kindness of John and Christine Dever, owners of Ercildoune Homestead in Australia, for allowing me to print the information regarding the Australian/Ercildoune, Scottish/Ercildoune – Learmont connection, contained in their website. We also attended another local book launch about the history of the area that gave us absolutely no credit for our restoration achievements, but this was put down to the author’s personal errors.
The last two sales of Ercildoune had been on a walk-in, walk-out basis, so much of the Learmonth furniture was apparently left, but it is not clear which pieces, but Lady Currie, in memory of her husband, Sir Alan, bequeathed some of the most valuable pieces to the Ballarat Art Gallery in 1948, that included a Bureau Cabinet c1710, a Corner Cupboard c1795, Corner Wash Stand, Toilet Stand and Upholstered Sofa, of the Sheraton Style, a Sideboard c1815, Pair or Armchairs, Bookcase, and Sofa Table of the Regency Period. There was also an extremely valuable pair of bevelled carved wood gilt Wall Mirrors c.1760, a pair of Armchairs, a Tallboy and a Bookcase, all in the Chippendale Style. In the Hepplewhite Style there was a Bureau Cabinet, Man’s Wardrobe, Set of Six Dining Chairs, a Side Table, and Three Armchairs. The Collection includes a Sacred Barrel Organ reputed to have been used at Port Arthur, and a B. Elgin of Great Britain, Mahogany case Grandfather Clock c1809. The Booklet called The Currie Collection ‘Ercildoune’ 18th and 19th century fine objects and furniture, produced by the Ballarat Fine Art Gallery states that “The collection reflects the tastes and experiences of an era now largely in the past. The fine English furniture, the sets of prints by William Hogarth, the von Guerard paintings from Sir Alan’s father’s property and the oriental items carefully chosen, one guesses, from a ‘grand tour’ to the Orient, popular around the turn of the century. An Auction was also held in 1963 on behalf of the Estate of Lady Currie, and there were 413 objects offered, including furniture, artwork by famous artists including F. Bartalozzi, and S. T. Gill, kitchenalia including glasses, goblets, vases, sweet dishes, candlesticks and suffers, cruets, wine coasters… The more unusual items were Items No. 348, Mounted Rhinoceros’s head, No. 349 a Mounted Stag’s Head, No. 351 a Rhinoceros Hide Screen and Item No. 360 was a Bear Skin Rug
The early newspapers are full of many advertisements that were placed by the Learmonths, regarding the sale of their prized stock, and there were of course, many articles written about Ercildoune. Because the brothers were involved in the very early society that was evolving in Ballarat, and with having to make many important business deals with well-known and like-minded fellow citizens, there were many people who were lucky enough to get invited to see Ercildoune. Many esteemed visitors including Royals and Vice-Regals, have been entertained there over the years. Lord Dudley, then Governor of Victoria, and his wife also leased Ercildoune over the Summer months, and the Countess was described as a Scottish nobelewoman of noted beauty. At around the same time Prince Leopold of Battenberg, a grandson of Queen Victoria, was staying at Government Cottage at Macedon. Other important Ercildoune guests included former Australian Prime Minister, Robert Menzies and his wife Patty, Peter Purves-Smith, the English Cricket Team of 1932-33, the Duke of Gloucester (1934), and the Delegates of the Japanese Goodwill Mission of 1938. Daryl Lindsay, artist, whose wife wrote Picnic at Hanging Rock, (Director of The National Gallery of Victoria 1941-1956), also became a frequent visitor. They owned a property called Mulberry Hill in Langwarrin South, along with their personal belongings, Australian art, Georgian furniture and glassware, and Staffordshire ceramics, was bequeathed to the National Trust. Daryl Lindsay had assisted in founding the Victorian branch of the National Trust in 1956 and was its first President. There were many Government officials visiting Ercildoune too, many of whom seemed to frequent many of the beautiful and historic Western District Homesteads. We were also privileged to meet former Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser and his wife Tamie, and David de Kretser visited when Governor of Victoria in May 2009, and it was quite exciting to receive a thank you letter on Government House paper. Sadly we couldn’t show the Governor anything outside the Homestead as it was extremely foggy, cold and drizzly by the time the entourage arrived at Ercildoune. I also spoke briefly with Steve Martin on the local Ballarat ABC radio about Ercildoune, another firstime experience and he’d paid a visit when it was very rundown.
Another famous Ercildoune guest was Australia’s ‘first lady of opera,’
Dame Nellie Melba. The Bendigo Independent newspaper dated 5th September 1907, reported that she arrived with a retinue of 16 servants that included 2 French Cooks, whilst Ann Blainey in her book ‘I am Melba’ who visited Ercildoune for research purposes with her husband Professor Blainey, stated that – “having suffered during her last tour of Australia from poorly trained servants, and thereby brought her secretary, two French maids, two French cooks and a German housekeeper.” She was born Helen Mitchell, another famous surname associated with the Livingstone side of the Learmonth family but I don’t think there is a connection. She loved her father David dearly, and she attended a Clara Butt concert at the Melbourne Town Hall with him on the 14 September 1907. Melba was the aunt of Gerald Patterson, one of Australia’s greatest ever tennis players, who won 3 Grand Slam Tournaments, that included two Wimbledon Singles titles so it was maybe it for him that she had the concrete tennis court built at Ercildoune. He and Norman Brookes became the first Australians to win an American national tennis title when they won the American Doubles Championship of 1919. There are some interesting stories about her trying to mimic the birds and that she had trouble copying the Magpies but practiced for hours in order to do so, and in the end she could set the magpies caroling of a morning.. There were even a ‘ridiculous proposal’ by the New South Wales Gould League of Bird Lovers to call the magpie the Melba bird (Border Morning Mail and Riverina Times 12/10/1912.) I can’t believe she was pecked on the nose though, apparently by someone’s pet magpie. There was also a rumour that she fell down the cellar, and consequently had it filled in and we never did find the cellar. Melba leased Ercildoune for 6 months, possibly through her acquaintance with Lady Sarah Wilson, who had married one of the Wilson son’s Gordon, infamous for being the son of a millionaire squatter, and as the Eton boy who ‘downed’ the lunatic who had made a mad attempt to assassinate the Queen at Windsor railway station many years ago (or as The Australian Town and Country Journal of 15 April 1882 states – “an Eton boy belaboured the man over the head and shoulders with an umbrella”)
Putting Things Into Perspective – We also found this handwritten letter in the National Library called Reminiscences of Fred Macrae (*the first born son of Bertha Learmonth (1863-96) and John Macrae) – “When the brothers arrived in Melbourne on the 1st April 1837, they stayed only a few months. They found it a wicked city and life there very distasteful, so they took all their goods and chattels and moved up country” He goes on to say that – “while in Melbourne, my Grandfather bought a small piece of ground for £10, and subsequently when in Melbourne for a visit he sold it for £50. As a boy about 1900, I was sent an Australian paper which had as one item the report that, what I understand was that very bit of ground, plus of course an enormous building (the Equitable) on it, was sold for £2 million. When I made the obvious remark that it might have been good to have kept it, Grandfather commented “Man does not live by bread alone”. Well, the brothers finally got to where Ballarat now is, but they did not care for the country, so went on through a place now called Buninyong and at last found a small lake (or Scots lochan) and there they settled and built a large and beautiful house which they called Ercildoune after the very early Learmonth holding in the Border Country, owned by Thomas the Rhymer, now called Earlston. For a number of years they had to work very hard, and frequently the climate just about beat them. They built up a very fine flock of sheep and, together with a Captain MacArthur, who acknowedged it, founded the great sheep and wool industry on which the country greatly depends. They must have brought out merinos as well, though MacArthur is generally given all the credit.”
While the 1830’s saw a land boom and economic highs, the early-mid-1840’s experienced a fall in land values due to a slump in the price of Australian wool, wheat and livestock. Sheep that once provided fine wool for export to England, who experienced its own recession in 1839, were being boiled down for tallow to make candles and soap. Free immigration was encouraged on the basis that newcomers would bring money and stimulate consumption and investment. Eventually rising wool prices brought returned prosperity and in 1854 the Victorian Gold Discovery Committee wrote –
“The discovery of the Victorian Goldfields has converted a remote dependency into a country of world wide fame; it has attracted a population, extraordinary in number, with unprecedented rapidity; it has enhanced the value of property to an enormous extent; it has made this the richest country in the world; and, in less than three years, it has done for this colony the work of an age, and made its impulses felt in the most distant regions of the earth.” According to Earth Resources, it was the discovery of gold in Ballarat in 1851, the year that coincided with the Learmonths selling their property at Buninyong, that resulted in Victoria’s gold boom and Ballarat was then recognized as probably the richest alluvial goldfield in the world, at its peak, between 1852 and 1853. They state that Victoria has produced 2 percent of all the gold mined in the world and was only eclipsed by Western Australia in the last few decades where new technology has played a crucial role both in the discovery and extraction of gold.
The Cyclopedia of Victoria states “In tracing the transformation of such an Arcadian scene as this into a congeries of towns we are struck by this remarkable characteristic – that, within the lifetime of a single generation, or less, society passed through all the phases of development which constitute the history of civilization in older countries, but have occupied, in all of them, centuries in their slow and deliberate transaction. In 1837 Mr. Learmonth and his brother explorers found the aborigines subsisting, like most savages, by hunting and fishing. Then came the epoch of flocks and herds, recalling the days of Abraham and Lot. This was followed by the introduction of mining ; and as gold is believed to have been known to primitive man before he began to fabricate implements of bronze, and to have been extracted from the Ural Mountains, and from the rivers of Switzerland, Gaul, and Germany, so gold mining followed the pastoral age in Victoria”…
In the article of the Weeklly Times (21/3/1914) headed Doom of the Stations, from wool to wheat….it concludes that the merino sheep seems to be inseparable from the big station. It has been found, in the wheat districts, that under the new regime, there are, curiously enough, more sheep than there were before, but they are alas quite a different sort of sheep. Instead of the small, aristocratic, sily-fleeced merino, there is the big, bony, coarse-woolled crossbred, the fleshy Shropshire, and the nuggety Southdown. These are all more valuable sheep to the farmer than the merino, and so they fully justify their adoption. Their wool, though not to be compared with that of the merino, is still valuable, while they supply fat lambs for the freezing works. These sheep work in well with the wheat…
All good things (and frustrating things) eventually run their race and there were many factors to us putting Ercildoune on the market. It was such a long commute for John to drive to Melbourne every day, when we did manage to try and live there, with him keeping ‘milkman’s hours’ by leaving at 4.15 a.m. every morning just to beat the peak hour traffic, and many kilometres were thereby clocked up along the Western Highway in that 15 years of ownership. But there were many highlights including when our eldest son Phillip was married to his lovely wife Alexandra, in the Walled Garden too, on a freezing and wet November day, and the reception was held in a huge marquee on the croquet lawn, so there was never a dull moment. Even though we don’t own it anymore, I still wanted to produce something that is a lasting legacy to the pioneering Learmonth Brothers as well as to what we achieved there. I can’t mention everybody here, but there were many people involved in the final result and it was definitely a big team effort. My husband will probably not retire now until he is 80 in order to recover from it. So with much regret, our Real Estate Agents were engaged again to sell the property, and they stated in their advertisement that Ercildoune was perhaps the finest example of Victoria’s rural heritage…
And so the renovation consumed us for many years, as significant repairs were made to nearly everything, the main priority being to stop any of the buildings being further degraded by the elements and consequent rampant vegetation, with so many trees, like the bay, ash, elm, willows and poplars, self-seeding and suckering themselves wherever they could. And most of them have the ability to become so invasive that they end up replacing the native plant species of a particular area. The roofs and gutters were all checked or replaced, downpipes re-routed, and any destructive vegetation was removed. We, along with our great Builder Ted, collected and added any old bits and pieces from the past that we could find, in order to make them feel more authentic. The homestead was renovated first and required truckloads of filler and paint. The stables needed major repointing and old leaky guttering was replaced with new.
So this is just some of our story, that I’ve put together as accurately as possible. Sometimes I wonder how many facts have been stretched over the years as the old adage says “never let the truth get in the way of a good story’ and there is artistic license and all that, but back then there possibly weren’t too many cases of libel and slander.
But it was an adventure really, and we really did end up feeling like ‘Caretakers or Custodians of History,’ as Heritage Victoria liked to call people owning these important slices of Australian history. I partially lost the plot as I used to arrive and walk inside and tell the house that I was back. It became such an integral part of me, but I will never return… well maybe in my next life! And boy – I have certainly learnt a lot about sheep.