10 December 2025

Mr GAFFNEY (Mersey) - Mr President, I rise today on adjournment to draw attention
to a part of Tasmania's heritage that is both profoundly significant and too often overlooked.
It's the Willow Court historic site at New Norfolk.

As one of Australia's oldest and most extensive institutional precincts, Willow Court
predates even Port Arthur, yet few truly grasp its scale or its significance. The site brings
together stories of early settlement, convict transportation and medical care, intellectual
disability and mental health care. It bears witness to the lived experience of some of the most
vulnerable members of our community. It is not simply a colonial relic; it is a living chronicle
of social change spanning nearly two centuries, and increasingly relevant in an era in which we
recognise the value of mental health and wellbeing.

The history of Willow Court is, however, confronting, complex and uncomfortable, and
that very discomfort has too often led to neglect. Places that hold painful stories struggle to
attract champions, even when they shape who we are. Willow Court has survived largely
through the dedication of a handful of advocates rather than the sustained public investment it
truly deserves.

To understand its significance, we must begin before European settlement, when the area
known as New Norfolk was inhabited by the Leenowwenne people of the Big River Nation,
who knew it as Wulawali. Their custodianship over generations and the trauma wrought by
colonisation are part of this place's deeper history.

Then in 1807, European settlement began with the relocation of Norfolk Island's
population into the area. A very humble early invalid barracks housed sick or injured convicts.
In 1827, Governor Arthur ordered all sick convicts from across the colony to New Norfolk.
Though Arthur imagined they could be all comfortably lodged at a very trifling expense, the
reality was overcrowded and inadequate. Governor Arthur then commissioned a substantial
hospital completed in 1833 known as the Invalid Barracks. The imposing building still standing
was designed by John Lee Archer, who also designed the very building in which we sit today
although, I assume, with a very different intended purpose.

In 1834, Willow Court held over 400 sick and mentally ill convicts. The complex
continued to expand and by the middle of the 20th century, Willow Court and the Royal
Derwent Hospital housed around 1500 patients and employed a similar number of staff. For
generations, it was a defining presence in the community. The hospital finally closed its doors
around the turn of the millennium, leaving an extensive legacy and woeful, unappreciated
history.

I recently met with Dr Richard Benjamin, a consultant psychiatrist and independent
advocate for the Willow Court historic site. He stresses that the six buildings still owned by the Derwent Valley Council form a core around which a world-class cultural, historical and
educational precinct could be developed. These buildings, together with their courtyards,
gardens and surrounding landscape, provide a rare opportunity to tell the full story, not only of
convict life, but of the thousands who passed through its institutions.

Dr Benjamin also highlights the nearby Millbrook Rise Psychopathic Hospital, purpose
built in the 1930s to treat veterans suffering from shell shock, the psychological aftermath of
the First World War. This facility offers a rare insight into early military mental health care,
adding yet another layer of historical significance. These assessments are echoed by
archaeologist and historian Dr Warwick Pearson, who described Willow Court as 'rare and
highly significant as the only example of an entire 19th century mental institution preserved in
its original layout and setting in Australia'.

The site's importance is now internationally recognised. Earlier this year, the Willow
Court heritage site advocacy body became a member of the International Coalition of Sites of
Conscience, a global network of former prisons, psychiatric hospitals, conflict zones and other
places marked by systemic suffering and social change. This membership explicitly recognises
Willow Court's potential as a site of truth-telling, a place where we can confront difficult
history, listen to those who lived it and openly examine how ideas of care, control, disability
and human rights have evolved. That truth is complex: former staff and residents recall
compassion, community and quality care, yet there are also painful stories of abuse, separation,
restrictive practices and wider legacies of institutionalisation. Yet, through it all, there are
remarkable stories of endurance, strength and resilience, reflecting the human spirit that
persisted at Willow Court.

The International Coalition asked us to hold these realities together, not to diminish any,
but to tell the whole story and to understand why Willow Court matters to our nation. Despite
this international recognition and the undeniable potential, the site remains vulnerable.
Privately led redevelopments such as the Antique Centre, the New Norfolk Distillery and the
widely acclaimed Agrarian Kitchen demonstrate what is possible when heritage and enterprise
are thoughtfully combined, but these successes are limited. The great majority of the
council-owned buildings are deteriorating, closed and inaccessible due to scarce resources.

The Invalid Barracks, Alonnah, Carlton, Frascati House and the Occupational Therapy
Building are all at risk. Frascati House deserves particular attention. Built in 1834, it is the
second oldest building at Willow Court. Once the summer residence of the colonial secretary
John Burnett, and, for over a century, home to successive medical superintendents, it was
renowned for its sumptuous interiors, complete with a ballroom and a celebrated garden tended
to by patients. After decades of neglect and repeated repurposing, it now stands vandalised and
semi-derelict. Yet, the local council appears poised to sell Frascati House through an
expression of interest process. While the property is a huge financial burden for the regional
council, transferring ownership carries significant risk; heritage fabric could be lost, the
precedent fragmented and both state and national significance eroded. Such a sale could also
set a dangerous precinct for the disposal of other key buildings, undermining the potential of a
long-term heritage strategy.

Willow Court has the potential to complement Port Arthur as an iconic site in Australia's
history. Whereas Port Arthur tells the story of punishment and retribution with the penal
colony, Willow Court tells the story of care, disability, mental health and the lives of those
institutionalised. Together, these sites could present a fuller and more understanding narrative of Tasmania's past. Imagine the potential in a fully restored, sensitively interpreted precinct
open to the public, delivering high-quality education programs that honour the past, offering
interactive experiences that deepen engagement, hosting community events and gaining
national and international recognition.

With strategic planning, investment and effective governance, Willow Court could,
within a few years and in a national context, become one of Tasmania's foremost heritage
destinations and as a leader in national conversation about human rights and how they shape
mental health, disability and veterans' care.

The bicentenary of Willow Court rapidly approaches. The site is more than just bricks
and mortar. It stands as a testament to human endurance, care and history. Its stories are waiting
to be told and its lessons are waiting to be learned.

The time for action is now. It's time for the state government to step in and do what is
necessary to save Willow Court for the community, for our shared history, and for future
generations.