Robert
Nelles
Nelles (Nellis), businessman, office holder, JP,
politician, and militia officer; b. 6 Oct. 1761 in Tryon County,
N.Y., eldest son of Hendrick William Nelles (Nellis); m. first 1788 Elizabeth
Moore (d. 1813), and they had five sons and three daughters; m. secondly 1814
Maria Jane Waddell, the widow of Samuel Bingle, and they had two sons and four
daughters; d. 27 July 1842 in Grimsby, Upper Canada.
According to family
tradition, Robert Nelles was descended from a Huguenot family that was driven
from France to the Palatinate (Federal Republic of Germany) following the
revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685. In 1709 they were uprooted once
again by a French invasion and found temporary asylum in England. From there
they were bundled off, along with 4,000 Palatinate refugees, to populate the
colony of New York. War followed them. William Nelles (Nellis), Robert’s
grandfather, was pressed into taking part in an attack on New France within a
year of his arrival in 1710. In 1759–60 Hendrick William Nelles, Robert’s
father, served in Sir William Johnson’s Indian Department, with which he
saw action during the Seven Years’ War.
Friendship with the
Indians had helped rebuild the family fortunes in New York, as it would later
in Upper Canada. Abandoned by their British sponsors and denied title to their
lands, the Palatinate immigrants had moved inland in the 1720s to settle among
the Indians of the Mohawk valley. During the 1750s and 1760s Hendrick Nelles’s
cousin George Klock was surrounded in controversy because of his method of
obtaining land from the Mohawks at Canajoharie (near Little Falls, N.Y.). Klock
apparently got the Indians drunk, bartered their clothes off their backs, and
then tricked them into signing deeds to vast tracts of land for a pittance.
Although it seems that Nelles was not involved in such deals, he certainly did
acquire a great deal of land. When old associations called him back to the
Indian Department in 1777 (or revolutionary tensions drove him back), he left
behind property that he later valued at £3,760, not counting stock and
equipment.
After 1777 the Indian
Department strategy was simply to destroy the settlements in the interior of
New York that supplied the Continental Army. Captain Nelles (he anglicized
his name to Henry at this time) accompanied Indians on many savage raids back
into his own Mohawk valley, sacking homesteads, burning crops, and killing and
scalping settlers. Through his intervention the Old Palatine Church, which his
family had helped build, and the Nelles homestead were spared destruction. On
one of these murderous missions in 1780 Nelles “recovered” his teenage son
Robert, who joined him at Fort Niagara (near Youngstown, N.Y.) as a lieutenant
in the Indian Department. Robert proved as energetic and resourceful at frontier
terrorism as his father, leading raids in 1781 and 1782 with a cool fury. He
returned in modest triumph from the 1782 campaign with “a parcel of negroes
& wenches” in tow, for which he found a ready market in Niagara. At the end
of the war, both Robert and his father were released from the Indian
Department, but were retained on half pay.
Understandably, neither
father nor son returned after the war to the district that they had razed.
Instead, they followed their Indian clients to the Grand River valley, where
they settled and did a little fur trading. In February 1787 Joseph Brant [Thayendanegea]
arranged for some 4,254 acres on the Grand River to be deeded to Henry Nelles
and his sons Robert and Warner “to be possessed by them and their posterity.” By
the time of Henry Nelles’s death in 1791, five of his sons were settled in
Upper Canada. The Nelleses received other land grants for military service,
loyalism, and compensation for lost property, and by 1800 they collectively
owned 7,300 acres, most of it in the Niagara District, making them the sixth
largest landholders on the peninsula.
Robert decided to develop
more than 600 acres on Forty Mile Creek. There, on the site of present-day
Grimsby, he built mills and a store, and commenced a grand stone mansion, The
Manor, which still survives. In the 1790s he supplied hardware, household
goods, textiles, and provisions to the small settlement. After 1800 he
forwarded whiskey, grain, and flour from his mill to W. and J. Crooks
at Niagara (Niagara-on-the-Lake) [see James Crooks]. Joseph Brant sought
his help both in supplying the Six Nations settlements and in the education of
his own sons. Robert was also briefly pressed into service again as an Indian
agent in 1797, delivering trade goods to the Mississauga Ojibwas under the
terms of their recently concluded treaty. Thus Robert Nelles launched his own
family from the elevated position accorded by landed wealth, a commercial
income, and his continuing half pay.
Being a local notable in
a deferential society, Nelles held various offices, such as town warden and
justice of the peace, and was inevitably drawn into provincial politics. In the
1800 general election he headed the poll in the two-member riding of York West,
1st Lincoln, and Haldimand and he served in the House of Assembly until 1808,
usually voting with the government majority. He seems to have devoted himself
to local appropriations and regularizing the title to family land on the Grand
River. While he was away at York (Toronto), his brothers, and later his eldest
son, Henry, looked after the store and mills, and his wife, Elizabeth, tended a
growing family that eventually numbered eight children.
War threatened life and
property again in 1812 and Nelles, his brothers, and his son responded to the call
to arms. Robert reported for duty as a captain in the 4th Lincoln Militia in
1812 but did not see much action during the next two years. The inhabitants of
the Niagara District, many with loyalties cruelly divided by the war, seemed to
prefer being spectators. The local militia remained inactive, undermanned and
demoralized, especially after the American occupation in 1813. This state of
affairs led to a general shake-up of command in the Lincoln militia in 1814
during which Nelles was promoted lieutenant-colonel of the 4th regiment. He
quickly brought it up to strength with threats of fines and courts martial.
Robert and his family fought in several battles, most notably at Lundy’s Lane,
where his son was captured and his brother wounded.
After the war he
remarried and briefly returned to public life. In February 1814 he had
been elected to the assembly for 1st Lincoln and Haldimand to replace the
expelled Joseph Willcocks. He held the
seat until 1820; while he attended parliament, his son Henry managed the family
mills. This separation has bequeathed to us a rare collection of touching
love-letters between husband and wife. Robert Nelles (over the years the
spelling gradually regularized to Nelles) was enormously proud of his military
record and continued to take a great deal of interest in militia affairs. In
1822 he was rewarded with a promotion to colonel of his regiment. He
scandalized and angered his neighbours with the unblushing favouritism of his
appointments. For 20 or more years most of the officers in his regiment were
members of the Nelles family. This situation aroused jealousy and resentment
not only in the county but also within the Nelles family. In 1822 Robert
promoted his son-in-law, but his brother William claimed seniority and marred the
annual militia parade by beating his rival with a stick.
Robert Nelles’s sons were
all well-educated by the standards of the day. They received an elementary
education in a school their father had established at the Forty (Grimsby), and
some of them were sent to York to continue their training in the care of the
Ridouts and John Strachan. Although
raised a Lutheran in the German-speaking Palatinate community in New York,
Robert helped build and became a pillar of the Anglican Church in Grimsby. His
son Abram became a noted Church of England missionary to the Six Nations
Indians. This appointment served to mark the great change that had taken place
over the generations in the relative fortunes of the Nelles family and their
Indian neighbours. Abram, a professional man from a well-off family, ministered
to the poor and confined population of a reservation, descendants of the
warriors his father and grandfather had fought alongside in three wars, whose
friendship had so generously endowed the family with land.
*After adding this history from Boyd I decided to search out the Manor House to see if it is still standing and found this wonderful story. Now I really want to take a trip to Grimsby and see this piece of history myself. I have always loved touring these kinds of places and wishing they were family related and here one is. The articles are below but you need to look the articles up to see the pictures from the video. It is from The Hamilton Spectator, published Jun 16, 2016, and the author is Jeff Mahoney. Just google Nelles Manor Mansion and you will find it easily.
Anyone who has lived in Grimsby or the area for more than a few weeks is surely aware of the name Nelles. We have Nelles Blvd., Nelles Road, Nelles Beach, Nelles Public School, and of course, Nelles Manor. But how many people actually know much about the Nelles family and its connection with Grimsby? It’s a long, exciting story, and I’ll try to make it short.
In 1695, the Nellis family fled Germany because of religious persecution. They were our first refugee family. The father, Rupert, died on the voyage to America and was buried at sea. After much hardship, the family found fertile farming land in the Mohawk Valley of the Thirteen Colonies. Hendrick Nelles, founder of our Grimsby family, was a great supporter of the British, and during the American Revolution he served as an Indian scout for Sir William Johnson and eventually became captain of the Indian Department. His eldest son, Robert also stepped up to the plate, and at the age of 18 he also became an Indian Scout in the service of the British. The war ended badly for Royalists, so Hendrick and his family came to Upper Canada. They were given large grants of land, not only for their service to the British, but also by the Six Nations Indians who had befriended them. At first, they all lived on the Grand River at York, but in 1787 Robert decided to come to The Forty (now Grimsby) to live on his land here. He married Elizabeth Moore and in 1788 began building the grand house that is now known as Nelles Manor. It took 10 years to complete the house. It is said to be the oldest remaining residence between Kingston and Fort Erie. Robert’s brothers, William and Abraham also came to Grimsby to live, and each one made an indelible mark on the development of this town.
The opening of Nelles Manor as a museum is indeed an event to celebrate. The people of Grimsby are fortunate to have been given this generous gift by Linda and Barry Coutts who purchased the Manor in 1971 when it had been divided into eight apartments, and who have worked hard ever since to return it to its original state as a one-family home. Nelles Manor is now managed by a foundation set up to support the museum. The Coutts still live on the property to keep their eye on things.
The Museum officially opened in May, and the public is now invited to come for tours which are available on Tuesday to Saturday from 10 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., and Sunday from 1 to 4:30 p.m. Key rooms in the Museum are also available for private parties, the ideal place for groups of up to 30 to celebrate a wedding, shower or anniversary. Wouldn’t it be neat to be married in the very room where Robert Nelles as a Justice of the Peace married so many couples in the early 1800s, and to celebrate in his kitchen!
On Thursday this week, Nelles Manor will receive a prestigious visitor. The Honorable Elizabeth Dowdeswell, Lieutenant-Governor of Ontario, is coming for a tour. Robert Nelles and his brother Abraham, as members of Upper Canada’s first Legislature, would be delighted!
Nelles Manor Museum. Grimsby, Ontario, Canada
Linda and Barry Coutts ask but one thing. No high heels on the original hardwood floors.
A pretty small don't-cha, all things considered.
That people are invited in to walk on these floors at all is a gesture of astounding public trust, civic-mindedness and selflessness by the Couttses. Some of the floors here, lovingly, skilfully restored and stained back to their original look by Barry and Linda, are 220 years old.
Their soft pine has borne the weight and received the impression of such footfalls as Joseph Brant's, Mohawk hero of the War of 1812.
Brant and many other prominent public figures from Ontario's early history and United Empire Loyalist settlement would visit the home of Colonel Robert Nelles.
"It's your home now," Barry tells me. "It is!?" I say, and immediately wonder if it would be OK if I got a fire going and took a nap by one of the hearths.
There are seven fireplaces in the mansion, some with original 200-year-old hearths and mantels, including the large, open stone cooking fireplace in the house's original room, begun in 1788, a kind of scullery where the wood would burn and meat would turn on spits all day. The house had to produce food for almost 20 people. Colonel Robert Nelles had 14 children. Pots are suspended from fireplace hangers and there's an elaborate iron fireplace crane and other gadgets for moving pots up and down.
"The fireplace still really draws," says Barry. "Back in the beginning, the house faced an Iroquois Indian trail and Native travelers were welcomed to stop in, eat and rest by the fire."
(Those were times, the late 18th century, when the American Revolution was freshly over, Lord Simcoe was Lieutenant Governor in Upper Canada, and reaction here against the republicanism of the Americans gave an oddly progressive cast to UEL traditionalism, propriety and aristocratic values. The UEL tended to be anti-slavery and on amicable terms with the Native population, which had helped the British fight the Americans in the revolutionary war. This house reflects in so many ways the deep roots of the province's history.)
When Barry says it's my home now, he means the house belongs to all of us in Ontario, and beyond. In what is a very rare designation, Linda and Barry have succeeded in getting their house approved as a private museum, an uncommon thing in Canada.
In essence, they sold the house nominally (they let it go for $2) to Nelles Manor Heritage House museum board, which administers it. All the approvals came through last year and this, and as of May it has been open to the public.
It's ours. I'm not sure we deserve it.
When Linda and Barry bought it in 1971, for $75,000, they were 29. The place bore little resemblance to how it looks now, and there wasn't a single plank of legal or heritage protection in place to prevent them from doing anything they wanted with it. They could've ripped it down and put up a car wash.
Townsfolk in Grimsby at the time were shocked that the historic house had been sold to outsiders. Until Barry and Linda (originally from Oakville) got it, the title and deed to the house had passed in an unbroken chain through the hands of successive generations of Nelles descendants.
It was known then as Nelles Manor and had been turned into apartments. Now it's called Nelles Manor Museum and has been utterly restored. Whatever you call it, the stately edifice is the oldest continually inhabited residence between Niagara-on-the-Lake and Kingston.
Fortunately for everyone, Barry and Linda were on side from the very start. They were like a Local Architectural Conservation Advisory Committee with a marriage licence and two kids.
"We've always been fascinated by history," says Barry, who owned a successful powder coating company (Erie Powder Coating, now owned by their son). Not only fascinated by history but, it turns out, scrupulously devoted to preserving it.
But even they didn't realize when they took it over in 1971, a year after seeing an ad in The Globe and Mail for this great old home for sale, just how firm a hold the house would take on their lives.
It might have started with Colonel Robert Nelles himself. The more Linda and Barry found out about him, the more fascinated they became.
"He owned all the land around here, 3,000 acres in Grimsby alone," says Linda. "He had three country houses and two working mills on the creek (Forty Creek) and he did milling for Joseph Brant. He was one of the most powerful men in Upper Canada.
"He was a colonel in the military, master of his Masonic Lodge, an MP for two sessions, a justice of the peace who performed some 200 weddings right in this house. He was an entrepreneur, a popular host and he had 160 gallons in his still." He was born and grew up in the Mohawk Valley of New York state and was a scout for the British during the Revolutionary War.
Like so many United Empire Loyalists, Nelles fled after the British lost and took advantage of the Upper Canada land grants with which the Crown rewarded its loyal ex-American stalwarts.
One of the centrepieces of the restoration that Barry and Linda have so painstakingly conjured into being, out of the materials of the past, is the drawing room at the back of which is the great man's office. There by the antique desk is his scarlet uniform jacket, with black facing, eaten through in places, but remarkably well preserved, especially considering Barry and Linda found it in a garbage bag in the basement of the manor. Beside it are Nelles's golden epaulettes.
"We can't leave it out too long," says Barry. "The moths love it, it's so soft."
The room itself, on the ground floor, is masterfully brought off, scintillating under the effects of large 12-over-12, double-hung windows, two at the south, two at the north, in stately Georgian symmetry. Georgian as in King George III. Some of the panes contain original 220-year-old glass. The fireplace is original, and while the hearth and mantel are later additions, they are period perfect for their surroundings.
There were eight apartments in the general area — the Nelles descendants had to rent out space to keep the place affordable in the 20th century. Some of the most arduous work that Linda and Barry did during the renovation was dismantling the drywall, plasterboard and other adaptive features put in over the years to fit the place out for rental, though they did keep the addition at the back. What helped made it practical and affordable was that Barry and Linda did virtually all the work themselves; their success in business also helped fund their efforts.
"The house grew on us as we lived it in it," says Linda. "We could have lived off the rent from the apartments, but we had two kids and we wanted more room for our family."
So down came many of the walls and later framing pieces, and, oh, the things they found behind them and elsewhere in the building. Whole doors and other features from the original.
The original architecture of the Nelles Manor expresses the rigorous craftsmanship of the time and the stature of the Nelles family and its ambitions. The walls are three-feet thick. The windows set in deep, decorous casements. The beautiful, rich black walnut main doors, with the glass transoms, echoed elsewhere in the house, look splendid and are intact from the first days. The widow of one of Nelles's great-grandsons gave Barry and Linda the original 220-year-old key, a marvelously anachronistic-looking device which works. Barry had a lock built for the key to fit.
For authenticity, Barry stripped down all the paint to the first coat and matched the colour to the best of his knowledge, to very handsome effect. There are the rich teal blue accents of the drawing room, and a unique, hard-to-describe mauve-rose colour in the upstairs bedroom.
There are so many other great details in the building. The grand staircase, for instance, features tapering spindles for optimal optic effect and much original wood in the stairs and some in the banister rail. Barry did a lot of the work repairing and replacing different parts of the staircase so it looks uniformly excellent.
There are rope beds, grandfather clocks, no end of historic touches, some of them original and passed down to Linda and Barry through Nelles family descendants, others acquired over the years on their ceaseless antiquing safaris to match the period and decor. In the dining room, there's a gorgeous, ornate sideboard from the 1800s. There's an original Brown Bess musket.
"It's so rare that when one of the War of 1812 enactors came through, a tear formed in his eye to see it and hold it," says Barry.
It's done now, the renovation — 45 years worth. And so, Linda and Barry have reaped the ultimate reward for their effort. They've moved out and into the smaller carriage house on the property. It's like restoring a great vintage motorcycle and then, to congratulate yourself, riding in the sidecar, while the public gets to sit in the saddle and drive.
But they wouldn't have it any other way. The joy was in the journey of the doing — and the saving, of something they felt more truly belonged to history than it did to them.
Now, in a sense, it's ours. We don't know lucky we are.
