It boasts a similarly eerie style to the Borley Rectory – said to be the most haunted house in England until it mysteriously burned down in 1939 – and Hibernia Lodge in the heart of the NSW regional city of Queanbeyan has more than a few mysteries of its own. Built in1865, the same period as Borley, Hibernia was held to be Queanbeyan's most outstanding residence. After 155 years, despite its prominence and central location, its story remains largely unknown – as do the more unexpected aspects that I've uncovered. The two-storey "restrained" Victorian gothic mansion with its high-gabled roof and built of local handmade bricks of a reddish-orange hue is today sheltered behind a thick, evergreen hedge, on the edge of the CBD. To its right, the view takes in the sparkling river and the bridge that spans it. The street on which it stands is now called Collett, after one of the city's many prominent early families. Originally it was Balcombe Street, named for Australia's first Colonial Treasurer, William Balcombe, an early landholder in the region (why the change, I'm still investigating). Balcombe was formerly from the island of St Helena: prior to him coming to Australia, deposed French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled there. In another local legend, Balcombe was said to have brought with him cuttings from willow trees from Napoleon's tomb - the first transplanted to Australia - finding a home along the banks of the Queanbeyan River.
When first I began to delve into Hibernia Lodge's past, it's only tale of the unexplained or unusual was that for Queanbeyan, the design is one of a kind.
Subsequently, it became apparent there was much more to it than meets the eye.
Even its construction is a matter of some conjecture. It's believed – although not conclusively proven – it was crafted by the Reverend Alberto Dias Soares, rector of Queanbeyan's Anglican Christ Church for 20 years from 1857. An artist and engineer who'd trained in Paris before finding himself in the then tiny NSW town, Soares was the architect of his own church as well as some 30 others throughout the wider area.
What's curious is that Hibernia Lodge wasn't definitively attributed to him even though his other creations were. He also wasn't known for being involved with private residences.
The giveaway revealing it was his is said to be the unusually positioned chimneys along its rooftop – tall and angled rather than squat and square (they've since been altered).
Confirmed is that it was built for one of the town's leading legal officials, a chap by the name of Obadiah Willans (regularly misspelt as “Williams”).
Previously in the woollen manufacturing business with his father Thomas in Dublin, Obadiah - the same name as the Biblical book - arrived with his Irish wife, Mary, and their seven children in 1861 (there'd be one more born in Australia).
Over three decades, Obadiah would hold various public offices, from Town Clerk to Licensing Magistrate and Registrar of the District Court.
He died in 1896 at the age of 80.
[NB: a drawing of Yarralumla Homestead though to perhaps have been done by Obadiah].
When people learn of the house's official title, that too raises speculation. Not only is “Hibernia” the Classic Latin term for the island of Ireland, it was the name of the Willans residence in Dublin.
The grounds of the Australian Hibernia were substantial, taking in a large swathe of the surrounding area, complete with extensive gardens and a much-admired orchard. It eventually came to be subdivided into smaller allotments.
Considered the hub of Queanbeyan society, many an important guest stayed there over the years, including visiting clergy and politicians.
One VIP visitor in 1871 was Mrs Harriett Conolly, widow of the Reverend Richard Conolly, curate of St James' Church, Dublin, and the sister-in-law of Mrs Mary Conolly Willans. During her stay, Mrs Conolly made “ecclesiastical history” when, in the absence of Rev. Soares, she presided over Evening Prayer in Christ Church, the first time a woman had done so.
Hibernia Lodge witnessed and withstood Queanbeyan's early development, progress and setbacks. In the Great Flood of 1925, the most devastating in the town's long history of such natural disasters, the ground floor of the house fell victim. “The river was coming down the street” submerging it under three feet of water. For some time after, its residents had to make use of only the top floor.
As part of the "progress", there's one very scary aspect to this grand manor's story.
Unbelievably, as recently as the 1980s there was a call published in The Canberra Times to see it torn down, unimaginatively decried as “an eyesore”.
Over a period from the mid-1960s, some of Queanbeyan's most historic gems were abandoned and left to ruination. Far too many were permitted to be demolished – among them the charming two-storey sandstone Commercial Banking Company building and the outstanding Bank of NSW, a mini turreted castle which, from my research thus far, seems to have been the only one like it in the state, perhaps even the country.
And so it was for Hibernia Lodge, for years a dishevelled shell of its former glory, converted to small flats after 1950, and often a temporary shelter for the unhomed.
One town resident during that time stated:
"I remember a few months before renovations began, and while the homeless were still sheltering there, a man died."
"He was a familiar sight on the streets during those years. He had a 40 gallon drum in the left-hand side of the room in which he would light a fire to keep warm. When cleaning up began some of his personal papers were found which seemed to indicate he had come here from Germany after the war."
"One night during the renovations, I was house-sitting and that night, I'm sure I saw him digging in the back garden."
A tenacious local fortunately took on the job of bringing it back to life, ensuring its preservation with a listing in the NSW State Heritage Register.
The house would later serve as an antique shop and tea rooms before being returned for use as a private residence.
Some time ago, I tracked the former owner down to ask him if he'd impart to me anything he knew of Hibernia Lodge.
I was talking of its history, but fascinatingly, he became somewhat wary and asked if I was referring to ghosts.
I never like to prompt people on such matters and so I instead asked why he might think that. He declared he was an unequivocal skeptic on all things paranormal, BUT …
While working on Hibernia over the years, he'd undeniably felt some kind of presence. It was particularly in the region of the landing of the central staircase; whenever they placed flowers or plants there, they'd wilt and wither almost immediately.
He also recalled a friend of his wife who came to visit. On entering the front lounge, she seemed overcome and said she had to leave. She could offer no reason as to why and was embarrassed to say she simply felt so uncomfortable she was unable to stay. She never set foot inside again.
In what the owner/restorer believed to have been a small maid's room on the right side of the building on the lower level, scratched on a window pane are the words “Edith – Will 1875”. Precisely who they were remains unknown. That room though, was described as always distinctly colder than anywhere else within the house. After some further digging, I was to learn that there were at least two significant deaths to have occurred within Hibernia itself: one, the original Lady of the Manor, who resided there for more than four decades, Mrs Mary Willans, dying in 1908 at 89.
Also, the couple's eldest daughter, Margery, for whom it had been home for all of her 84 years. And as timing is everything in such things - a local psychic tells me significant dates are powerful moments in the world of the supernatural - by coincidence, while writing this I realised it was almost September 7, 2020: the 90th anniversary of her death in 1930.
Soon after I'd first made those initial discoveries - well before such information became a little easier to find and source - I was to conduct one of my Mysterious Moonlight Tours, for which I intended on making my great reveal. When we reached the house during the course of our travels on that chilly, moonless night, before I could begin I was interrupted by one of the guests. In front of the group she asked if anyone else had ever seen the ghostly woman in black standing in the top left window, one of three on the second floor. To say I was astonished was an understatement: I'd been doing the Tours for quite some time by then and no one had ever volunteered anything about Hibernia before. When I asked her if she could tell us a bit more, she revealed that when she was younger, whenever she and her mother passed by, her mum claimed to be able to see the figure of an older woman in old-fashioned clothing standing up there looking out of those hand-rolled glass panes. In the time since, on three separate occasions I've had other people, completely unprompted, ask me if I'd ever seen or if I knew anything about the figure in the window. It’s important to point out Hibernia Lodge remains a private residence and so it's a definite no to stakeouts or ghost hunts. As it is, the current owners have proven almost as elusive as the potential spectres in those stories. Despite my efforts, I haven't yet been able to talk with them directly on whether they think there's anything to it or dismiss such claims outright.
If there is anything to it, is it possible it might be either old Mrs Willans, or her daughter Margery, letting us know that home is always where the heart is?
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