In a city where heritage and housing are often made enemies, in a country that can seem to have limited interest in its history, a spattering of historic homes is a saving grace.
Though merely one subset of historic buildings, historic homes have a multifaceted importance as exemplifiers of architecture — as are Newtown’s Victorian terraces — and, often, former residences of significant figures in Australia’s development. In their presence, these houses erode the perception of their eras as long ago and detached.
Museums of History New South Wales (MHNSW) manages several properties as house museums, including the Gothic Revival Vaucluse House and the Australian Old Colonial Elizabeth Farm. Both are steeped in Australia’s tumultuous colonial history, and both, with their gardens and greenery, serve as a counterpoint to the surrounding suburbia.
Vaucluse, encompassing traditional Birrabirragal lands, gets its name from Vaucluse House, the construction of which began in 1803. It was initially the cottage of Sir Henry Browne Hayes, Irish landowner turned kidnapper, turned convict. The estate was purchased by the explorer, barrister, and journalist William Charles Wentworth in 1827, after which he and his family, including partner Sarah Cox, moved in and transformed the property.
While the Wentworths were long ostracised by high society for their convict heritage, the circumstances of their relationship, and William’s political agitation, the house had its place in Sydney’s social scene. It hosted a boisterous party when Governor Darling — then derided for his stance on ex-convicts’ rights, deadly punishment of two absconding soldiers, and harsh restrictions on the press — was dismissed. Sydney was a rougher town, reflected by the drunken gathering of nearly 4,000. It was in this setting that Australia’s march from the rule of autocratic governors toward parliamentary self-governance began.
Sarah oversaw Vaucluse House, living a life that was ‘comfortable yet secluded’, though she became more socially involved as the family became accepted by high society. She had been the litigant in Australia’s first breach of promise suit, represented by William. These suits allowed women to sue men who reneged on a promise to marry, at a time when women’s livelihoods were typically highly dependent on marriage. Sarah also played a key role in designing the nearby Wentworth Mausoleum, once within the estate grounds.
Australia’s oldest homestead, Elizabeth Farm in Rosehill — on Darug lands — has many on-paper commonalities. It, too, was a grand home, inhabited by the Macarthurs from its beginnings in 1793. On the farm, Elizabeth and John Macarthur pioneered Australia’s wool industry, which drove the New South Wales colony’s early wealth. Elizabeth managed the property herself for long periods. The Macarthurs always had an aristocratic flair — Elizabeth lamented the foul language of women convicts on the notorious Second Fleet.
As John became insane, Elizabeth consented to him being sent to the family’s Camden estate, managing the property until her death. Elizabeth was one example of a commercially successful woman in the colonial era; another, trader Mary Reibey, whose home stood in Newtown, features on the twenty dollar banknote.
These properties have been transformed into community assets. In addition to their inherent histories, their greenspaces are a welcome reprieve. Standing in the grass around Vaucluse House, one sees little except vegetation; people and dogs stroll nearby. Elizabeth Farm is surrounded by some measure of greenspace, too. Such storied, serene spaces are invaluable possessions for a busy city.
The Indigenous histories of these places, and of Australia at large, cannot be forgotten. The gift shops of both estates stock Bill Gammage’s The Biggest Estate on Earth, which promises to detonate ‘the myth that pre-settlement Australia was an untamed wilderness,’ and reveal ‘the complex, country-wide systems of land management used by Aboriginal people.’ These historic homesteads preceded further development around them. As colonial society expanded outwards from Sydney Cove, Aboriginal people lost ever more of their traditional lands, compounded by an absence of treaties which continues to this day.
While Vaucluse House and Elizabeth Farm are kept in good nick, other grand homes have fallen into disrepair. Not all historic houses, however, are majestic estates. Many, lining successive streets of Sydney’s inner suburbs, have thoroughly working class histories. MHNSW maintains Susannah Place in The Rocks, which it describes as a ‘resilient reminder’ of the role in Sydney’s development played by immigrants; the terrace was built by Irish immigrants in 1844.
History, community, and shared spaces are intertwined, and Sydney’s historic homes have a unique role in bringing these together. They remind us of those who lived before, influencing those around and after them. May we think of who we are, too, and our own legacies.
