As a semi-pro freelance writer, I’ve developed some pet hates when it comes to cliché-ed phrases — and one of the most tooth-grinding is ‘sneak-peek’. Let’s face it, this twee substitute for the perfectly good ‘preview’ or even ‘glimpse’ has had its day and should be taken out back and humanely shot. What follows is therefore not a sneak-peak, but a bit of a prelude, or teaser if you will, about a project happening just down the road which promises to be quite exciting.
We’ve been spending a bit of time lately at Braidwood’s historic Doncaster Inn, getting ready for a 21st birthday party. I’ve held off talking about the Don, as it’s known, not only because it’s a large and fascinating subject, but also because it’s a work in progress and I’ve wanted to save it for a big reveal.
In the meantime, this is a foretaste — just as the 21st celebration is a trial run for what’s to come.
The original Doncaster Hotel was built by Andrew Badgery in 1840, a good decade before the gold rush, and by all accounts was a centre of the town’s social life. It wasn’t just a thriving hostelry — apparently it hosted political meetings and other events calculated to draw the early Victorian crowd. When Andrew died in 1857, his wife, Mrs Maria Badgery, took over the licence like a good ‘un and ran it until her retirement seven years later.
The establishment was said to include “a bar-room handsomely fitted up, six parlours, and twenty-five bedrooms, neatly furnished”. Despite these attractions, in the 1880s the Catholic Church acquired it for the Good Samaritan order of nuns. Some accounts say the hotel burnt down sometime after 1870 (when the above photo was taken), while others contend it was demolished — but whatever its fate, the current building was constructed in 1905 using bits and pieces of the original.
In its new format it remained a nunnery, with the good sisters dedicating themselves to providing an education for the district’s youth at St. Bede’s Primary School, which remains the Don’s close neighbour. According to my rather hasty research, the nuns left in the 1950s and the Don then became a small hotel.
It’s been closed for a few years as my talented sister-in-law — the architect of Corner Cottage’s renovation — recreates it with her own unique, eclectic flair, based on the French Provincial style. It’s been a huge job — the building had been neglected for some time, and previous repairs were done in a less than sympathetic manner. But the results are stunning and it promises to be a gorgeous place to visit when it re-opens in the not-too-distant future.
I had the honour and privilege of laying the fires for today’s stylish luncheon party. While a delicious meal was whipped up in the kitchen and the champagne cooled on ice, I put together a nice simple twig and kindling tepee in this magnificent hearth.
Just look at those firedogs! Yes, they have lions’ heads, but they remain dogs. The place has fascinating features, with hints of its ecclesiastical past in the arched windows in the chapel (now a palatial dining room), not to mention stripped Oregon pine floors, a magnificent timber staircase, and a clubby billiards room. And the garden is beautiful — perfect for outdoor summer soirees.
A previous owner claims to have seen the ghost of Mrs Badgery in the kitchen on numerous occasions, while other legends have it that the apparition of an aged Mother Superior walks the halls at night. I’m not much bothered by these tales — but if they are still hanging about in the ether, I’m not sure what they would have made of the dozen or so stylish young ladies and dapper chaps who turned up for today’s celebration.
Somehow a gathering of these handsome, articulate young people, all radiating competency and confidence in their futures, seemed the perfect cohort to inaugurate a new phase in the Don’s storied career. They were still going strong when we left at a time appropriate to the more mature generation — a portent of many more festive nights in the future of this venerable edifice.