THE 39-YEAR RENO

By Gary May
(From The Globe and Mail)

Have you ever opened up a wall during a renovation and found some vintage newspapers, or a child's toy? Imagine peering up into the rafters of your basement and finding a lieutenant-colonel's scarlet military jacket from the War of 1812.

That happened to Barry and Linda Coutts in the early days of renovating Nelles Manor, their Grimsby, Ont., mansion, one of the oldest continually inhabited homes in the province. The fact the manor was built between 1788 and 1798, at a time when other pioneer families in the Niagara Peninsula were slapping up log cabins, makes their home that much more special.

To achieve that, the Coutts knocked down 1950s partitions that were thrown up when the 7,000-square-foot house was converted to eight apartments, uncovered original flooring, plaster and woodwork, and opened up fireplaces, including an immense cooking fireplace in the cavernous old kitchen.

"We've listened to what the house tells us," says Linda. "And we followed those instructions as closely as we could."

That includes replicating original paint colours - often blue, beige and a deep burgundy red - and using scratches on floorboards to place doors in their original locations.

Their pride and joy is the drawing room where Colonel Nelles kept his study during his years as a British military man, storekeeper, mill owner and justice of the peace. The room is refurbished with a masculine panache that conjures up cigar smoke and fine, golden whisky.

"We've set up dinner parties in there," says Barry. "One night we had 60 candles lit and a guest chef preparing dinner for 10 people. It put you back 200 years." Adds Linda: "It was magical."

They moved into one of the apartments and, as other units came available, incorporated them into the project. Today, the main part of the house is all theirs, with just two apartments - one in the attic and one in the carriage house - remaining. Their goal is to turn the manor back into a single-family dwelling.

The original home consisted of Robert Nelles's drawing room, a parlour, dining room and kitchen on the main level, three second-floor bedrooms, plus servants' quarters over the kitchen. The attic might have been used for storage, a play area or extra sleeping.

A carriage house, added around the end of the War of 1812, was later attached, a "modern" kitchen was built in the 1930s, then dormers and a two-storey addition came in the 1950s.

"When we first moved in," explains Barry, "to get upstairs to the bedrooms we had to go outside and up the steps."

Adds Linda: "Our son's bedroom was in the kitchen of one of the apartments, with the cupboards and sink and tile floor. But he didn't think anything of it. It's just the way it was. We've all made sacrifices for the house."

They encountered plywood and linoleum over black walnut and pine, partitions and drywall over old plaster. Layers of paint were meticulously scraped from banisters and woodwork. A stove had been placed where the old kitchen fireplace once sat. When they tore through the wall to uncover it, decades of soot began to billow into the room.

Returning the home to its original era has not always been smooth sailing. For example, an 1870s reno job in the parlour saw wide-board pine floors replaced by random-width maple. In the same room a corner fireplace - which backs onto a similar one in the adjacent dining room - was fitted with Victorian-era tile over the 1790s black plaster molding.

Another modernization saw original muntined windows at the front of the house replaced with two-piece sash models. While the couple grimaced and accepted the parlour renovations, they returned the windows to their original style by replicating those at the back of the house - some of which, they believe, still contain 1790s panes of glass.

"The idea is not to take everything down, but to save everything possible that was part of this house," says Barry. "We spent 500 hours in the drawing room and 500 hours in the hallway, only on the plaster, fixing all the cracks, putting lathing back in the walls and plastering on top of it."

The realities of the modern world raise their ugly heads occasionally. A 1790s home has no closets, so they've done without. Plumbing, steam heat pipes and electrical wiring had to be incorporated into a house of stone walls that range from two to three feet thick. On occasion, that's meant having to box in those modern touches. In the colonel's study, wiring conduit was hidden behind a Union Jack flag.

The rubblestone exterior, covered with a soft cement, has withstood its more than two centuries in remarkable shape, but wooden details - including windows - need constant repair and painting.

The couple can't begin to guess how much they've spent and say they're at a loss to put a modern-day price tag on their home. Across the street, an 1836 Canterbury cottage that's less than half the size and sits on a smaller property is offered for $660,000.

How does a marriage survive four decades of renovation?

"It became an important part of life for all of us," says Linda. "Our son was quite indignant a while ago when he thought we might consider the house's future without consulting him, too."

Adds Barry: "I still find myself eager to come home from work and pick up my tools and get started on the next project."

Colonel Robert Nelles

Colonel Robert Nelles was born in New York's Mohawk Valley in 1761, one of four sons of Hendrick (Henry) Nelles. Robert grew up with Joseph Brant's son and the two were lifelong friends. He served as a British scout during the American Revolution and was a frequent guest of the Indian superintendent, Sir William Johnson.

One story tells of Nelles and four natives having to dive into the frigid February waters of the Oswego River to avoid a force of Continental soldiers. With bullets whizzing above their heads, they reached the other side but had no means of changing their frozen clothing until they reached Fort Niagara.

When the United Empire Loyalist Nelles family moved to Niagara in what was then the western part of the Province of Quebec in the 1780s, Robert recalled details of Johnson's Mohawk Valley home and incorporated them into his own grand mansion at the new settlement of The Forty.

His original log cabin was later incorporated into a home that still stands near the manor.

Robert Nelles built a grist mill, sawmill and store at The Forty, which would later be renamed Grimsby. He rose to the rank of lieutenant-colonel and commanded a detachment of the 4th Regiment Lincoln Militia during the War of 1812.

Nelles Manor, built at the base of the Niagara Escarpment along an Indian trail, was a frequent drop-in spot for passing native people.

Some say the spirit of Robert Nelles still inhabits his grand mansion. A woman who knew nothing of the home's history moved into the apartment in what had been Nelles' study. She reported awakening during the night to the unsettling sight of a red-coated military man and two Indians in her bedroom.

Sources: Annals of the Forty, published by the Grimsby Historical Society, and Linda and Barry Coutts.

- First published September 3, 2010.