Conducting a Character Home Tour

Conducting a Character Home Tour

Our neighborhood association encourages residents to conduct house tours once a year as a fundraiser. Eager sightseers normally came in couples. So as to not generalize interest between the various genders, I will simply use gender neutral identifiers and name the people interested in the architecture “wives” and those feigning interest in the tour “husbands”.

We presently own a historic character home. Apparently, no one ‘has’ a character home due to the permanent nature of such a home and the ephemeral nature of owners. These homes have their own nature and personalities and you ignore them at your peril.

My wife searched for a home that would allow us to merge our household and her parents. Her mother was elderly and had arthritis while the father cared for her. The home’s 12 by 2 inch fir joists easily accommodated the weight of four fridges, four washer dryers and three hot water tanks. 

  

I accepted the delegated task of volunteering to conduct the tours, so I spent the week prior obtaining a sufficient background in beaux art construction and architecture, just enough to confidently provide a complete tour. People appreciate someone expressing confidence, and this can go a long way to replacing competence.

We conduct tours during a four hour window with 40 or 50 people coming in throughout the day. Each group contains 4 or 6 people. I describe to the group how the 4600 square foot, three story beaux art style home was constructed in 1912 by the Kelly Brothers. Typical of this style the home possesses a flat roof, raised first story, arched main entrance and a hierarchy of spaces from grand entrances to more utilitarian ones.

I start the tour with the dining room, normally the finest room in a beaux art home with the tallest oak paneling. The molding holds the various plates and serving platters. For the husbands I point out the brass fittings in the baseboards which held speaking tubes acting as a type of early intercom. The tubes would be plugged with wooden whistles, making it very difficult to ignore someone trying to contact you.

I would regale groups with the story of the Kelly brothers as I find that crime and intrigue spices up the tour. The Kelly brothers built Winnipeg’s legislative buildings at the same time as our home. The corners of our home incorporate tyndall limestone which has a pervasive mottling of darker dolomite giving the stone a tapestry like effect. Mind you, the tyndall stone outside the home resembles exactly the stone covering the legislature. The tyndall stones for the home may have ‘fallen’ off the truck supplying the material for the legislature. The Supreme Court of Canada eventually convicted the Kelly brothers of a several million dollar fraud. This somewhat humorous anecdote was not particularly funny at the time and the scandal factored into the downfall of the government. The house clearly benefited, while the government at the time paid the cost, financially and politically.

The original owner was Quebecois Aime Bernard who had prospered as a hotelier, horse dealer and land speculator. He was elected as a member of the legislature and sold the home when appointed to the senate in 1917. After that, the home went through multiple owners who either impacted or were impacted by the home. The entourage I led at any particular time like to hear about the various owner personalities. For example, the Misericordia nuns occupied the home for a period of time. There have been numerous ephemeral owners. We haven’t seen any of the ethereal owners. As least not yet.

In the main foyer, wives appreciate the fine quarter cut oak flooring where the grain produces a ribbon like pattern across the straight grain. Husbands appreciate reduced shrinkage.

We proceed to the living room. The oak trimmed brick fireplace dominates the room which would have supplemented the steam heated radiators. The ten foot ceilings accommodate the various 19^th century style paintings we purchase at the occasion estate auction.

By this time the husbands’ attention may start to flag somewhat. I hold out the promise of the basement. The boiler room.

The boiler holds a special place in my heart. I point out the stylish antique metal lids covering the coal chutes. A stylish 1950s natural gas heated boiler replaced the original coal heated boiler. Numerous levers, values and, my personal favorite, a pressure gauge adorn the boiler. Describing the working of this steam generator revitalizes those that were becoming unfocused. And did I mention the moat? The boiler sits nicely in a depression that could accommodate the contents of the entire boiler. This is good, since someday, as yet unknown, it will have to.

I describe how the single pipe steam heat radiator predated the dual pipe hot water heat radiator. Both factions are not necessarily interested in this aspect, but if you approach any topic with enough enthusiasm, this will get you by.

The basement contains nine sinks. Three large ceramic sinks act as the early day laundry room. Three metal sinks constitute part of the canning kitchen. The other three metal sinks near the outside door are simply called the game kitchen. These sinks may have merely washed up the horse’s gear, but the hunters appreciate the sentiment.

Climbing back up the steep staircase, we enter ‘the kitchen’. The kitchen necessitated a labor of love since when we purchased the home, the ceiling still had the lathe and plaster. Or at least the lathe showed where the plaster would normally have gone. Since a lot of it was.

The kitchen and the butler’s pantry merged together to form an extensive sized meal preparation area. The swinging doors from the kitchen into the main dining room show how the gentry were attended to by their live-in servants. The more modern commercial grade wolf stove attracts the most attention from both groups. The rugged steel exterior and the red dials are characteristic of these stoves. No other functions complicate the appearance except the black light button. At over 325 pounds, the weight of the stove causes ruts in the oaken floor. Massive weighty structures generally interest the husbands. The stove generally stays where it is, no matter what the problem might be.

I don’t normally take people to the second or third floors, but I describe how the second floor was constructed with maple flooring, while the servants on the third floor had fir. This provides another example of the beaux art hierarchy of spaces. A white and blue mosaic tile covers the third floor bathroom holding an old style claw footed tub. The complexity, second only to the boiler, of the nickel plated plumbing fixtures gladdens the heart of any tour accompanier. 

The oak staircase forms the center piece of the house. The oaken banister and balustrades are finely crafted. Constructed over 100 years ago, all of the fittings remain tight. I point out a ghostly 6 inch wide lighter line going from the floor to the ceiling on the outside of the staircase. When the nuns occupied the home, mother superior could not climb the stairs and had her bathtub on the main floor. Fortunately they constructed the bathroom wall by following the complicated contours of the staircase. Cutting out portions would have been a travesty.

A fine red brick carriage house at the back of the property appears nicer and larger than one of our initial homes. A two story structure, the carriage was stored below and the driver lived above. The horses were brought in whenever the owners wanted to venture out to town. If we could detach the carriage house and reattach it anywhere in Toronto, no doubt we could sell it and retire. Here in Winnipeg, not so much.

Leading the various groups back to the main entrance, everyone appears satisfied. The beaux art home captivates another era of dreamers.  

Gary Goodwin