I first stayed in Clifton Manor at the invitation of a school pal from my class at the local Burnside Primary School. It was the Easter break and I think the year was 1969 and I would have been about 8 years old. My pal Michael was the grandson of Dr and Mrs Schneider, but I have long since lost contact with him.
I lived in the neighbouring suburb, Stonyfell, where my family home remains. The area was much less developed than it is today. All of the Schneider property as well as the Simpson’s was private and some of the doctor’s animals were still there, mainly kangaroos and emus as I recall. I once did ‘Bobs for Jobs’ at the old Simpson house and recall seeing his impressive collection of classic and vintage cars in the shed. I did some weeding and polished the parquetry floor in the entrance foyer.
To me as a small child the Schneider house (Clifton Manor) seemed enormous, full of dark corridors and lots of rooms. I wondered why a couple of people would need such a big house and so many rooms. There were at least two young housemaids resident in the home, plus a lonely old groundsman with his own tumbledown cottage near the zoo.
It was a very memorable time as my pal and I played like two mischievous young boys would, exploring all the vast grounds, sheds and nooks and crannies in the house. We swam in the pool and chased the animals around the property. There was a spooky basement that I recall had a couple of war relics including, if I’m correct, a German helmet.
While we frolicked like little lords around Clifton, there we some parts of the house we were not allowed to go and one of these areas was the doctor’s library. While we did spend some time with Michael’s grandmother, who he called ‘Kim’ for some reason, I only ever caught glimpses of the doctor, usually in his library. There were some unusual dynamics in that relationship, but too complicated for a young boy to fathom.
The long driveway out to Hallett Road (now Andrews Walk) had two or three fibro-type cottages along the way. I assume these belonged to the doctor and were occupied by tenants. I think another school pal and his family lived in one for a time. The road was (I believe) a gazetted road and accessible to the public as I drove it several times myself before the sale and subdivision in the late ‘70s. Simpson’s property was also accessible from this road, but the chain-wire gate was always locked.
I’ve tried to find this area marked on old street directories, but the whole part is just blank with no sign of this road which is now Andrews Walk. A bollard at Hallett Road entrance now prevents vehicle access.
As older kids we often went adventuring in the property, climbing the tall pines and making cubby houses here and there including deep in the bamboo that once grew thick in what is now Michael Perry Reserve. We often saw other groups of kids playing around, but made a point of staying hidden. There was a private house at the end of the road which ran into the quarry and vehicles often drove along the track which is now a walkway within the reserve. A high cyclone fence with ominous signage is now there, dividing the (Boral) quarry from the reserve. A derelict shed is visible about 50m from the fence and the house is long since gone.
On the right hand side of what is now Andrews Walk, roughly opposite to where the Simpson’s rear access gate was, there used to be an old Adelaide Tram converted as a rough dwelling and surrounded by all sorts of junk. I never saw anyone live in there, but there were signs it had once been occupied. A small market garden was next to Second Creek where an Italian chap grew capiscums. Yes, we nicked one or two.
We heard of the death of the doctor some time in the early/mid ‘70s and recall finding an enormous pile of his belongings just dumped about 200m from the manor near the groundsman’s cottage. There were clothes, antique furniture and what seemed like his entire library of very old German language medical books. I alway remember climbing high on the pile looking at everything. I have no idea what happened to it all. I think it was probably burned.
Not long after that on another of our explorations we did find something disturbing. A complete set of women’s clothes discarded on the ground near the groundsman’s cottage. (which was near the bend in Grevillea Cres before the T-junction with Heatherbank Tce) Even as young kids the find troubled us. One pair of jeans, a blouse and if I remember correctly underwear. Because this part of the property was in the private part, we were too scared to report what we’d seen in case we got in trouble. It still haunts me to this day. Some other neighbourhood kids had heard rumours of wild goings-on at the old house after the late doctor’s wife had left. I don’t know who occupied the house immediately after (recall it might have been a boarding house for students, but cannot confirm this), but we did have to hide from other people wandering around the grounds at times. Whether these people were authorised or not, I couldn’t say. We just hid from everyone as a matter of course.
At some point around this time on another foray we found the groundsman’s cottage burned to the ground. Whether this was done as lazy demolition prior to the subdivision or an act of vandalism, I never found out. I couldn’t help thinking what a dangerous act this was as the area is notoriously fire prone, as evidenced by the Ash Wednesday fires which came perilously close in February 1983.
Soon after these last events the property was split up and sold as allotments and by the late ‘70s the subdivision was in full swing and our huge playground gone forever, although Burnside Council took over the old gardens at the bottom of the property, converting them to Michael Perry Reserve, a public-use park.
On the matter of supernatural stuff, we were all too scared to go in there after dark. The section of the driveway nearest Hallett Road is very constricted with the trees forming a tight corridor barely wide enough for a small car. The one or two times I rode my bike along there after dark was a very chilling experience and something I never wanted to repeat.
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