Vacation in Canada, eh? 3: St. John’s, Newfoundland & Labrador
By Peter Coffman
If you’re like most Canadians, you’ve either been to St. John’s, or it’s on your bucket list. And if you’ve been, you probably want to go again. One of the oldest cities in North America, it exudes history from every nook and cranny, and every corner has a story to tell. When you go, here are just a few of the architectural treats to look for:
The (Fishing) Rooms
This arrived on the St. John’s skyline fairly recently (2005), and stirred up some controversy. Some loved it. Others thought it ugly, or too big. “The box the Basilica [the nearby Catholic cathedral] came in”, they sneered.
But it’s not just a box. It’s a group of fishing rooms – the small wooden sheds that used to dot the shore of every Newfoundland outport. They’re inflated in size, and made into a symbol for the province and its history.
As a building type, the fishing room is as important – and iconic – to Newfoundland as the grain elevator is to the west. That makes it the perfect choice for a building meant to celebrate Newfoundland culture and history, and to house the provincial museum, art gallery, and archives. That’s why it’s called The Rooms.
It’s a must-see. The building is is a great public gathering place. The exhibits are wonderful. The archival collections are superb. Even the restaurant is terrific.
And oh, those views….
Dueling Cathedrals
In the 1830s, Bishop Michael Fleming started raising money for a new Catholic cathedral in St. John’s. This rang alarm bells among the Anglican establishment. “A second Popish chapel is soon to be erected in our capital” warned Anglican Archdeacon Edward Wix in 1836, “and this in a colony where the state of society equals, if it do not exceed, in ignorance, superstition, and insubordination, the worse parts of Ireland.”
Fleming built his cathedral, which locals refer to simply as the Basilica. And it was by far the grandest building in St. John’s (in fact it dominated the city’s skyline until The Rooms came along). Its Classical forms – round arches, the flat coffered ceiling, the decorative detailing – proclaim its affiliation to St. Peter’s in Rome. And it lays down the gauntlet. The Church of England had to build an equally compelling architectural rebuttal.
The Anglican Cathedral not only had to be Anglican – it had to look Anglican. And that meant one thing in the 1840s: Gothic. It had to shout “England!” and “Anglican!” just as loudly as the Basilica shouted “Roman Catholic!” Thus did this English Gothic cathedral from around the middle of the 13th century land in the middle of a rocky slope rising steeply from St. John’s Harbour.
Along with nearby Presbyterian and United (formerly Methodist) churches, these buildings form the core of the St. John’s Ecclesiastical District Historic Site of Canada. If you want a quick introduction to the cultural DNA of 19th-century Newfoundland, it’s not a bad place to start.
The Enclave of Power
I wrote about an enclave of power – an area with a concentration of buildings connected to authority – in an earlier blog on Dawson City. St. John’s has one too. It’s older than Dawson’s, but contains the same unmistakable mix of both sacred and secular institutions.
The oldest is Commissariat House, built 1818-20. This was the home and workplace of the Assistant Commissary General – the person who oversaw the acquisitions of supplies for the British armed forces in Newfoundland.
Just a few years later in 1827, and less than 300 metres away, construction began on Government House. This stone mansion was very grand for St. John’s in the 1820s. It was built to be the official residence for the governor, and it remains the official residence of the Lieutenant Governor.
Another 350 metres away is St. Thomas’s Anglican Church, built in 1836. This church was built as a direct result of fundraising done by Edward Wix, quoted above, by whipping up fear of the supposed ‘Romanist menace’.
In a span of less than two decades, the centres of spiritual, political, and military power in St. John’s became next-door neighbours. The symbolic and physical concentration of authority in one section of town was a common colonial strategy. You can still experience this in Halifax, Lunenburg, and (as mentioned above) Dawson. These are places where you can still, quite literally, walk through our history.
The Newfoundland Railway
There are Newfoundlanders in their fifties who have never even seen, much less ridden in, a train in their own province. So it’s a bit of a surprise to learn that the Newfoundland Railway Station in St. John’s is still there. Built in 1901, it’s a museum now. The last passenger train pulled out in 1969, four years after completion of the Newfoundland segment of the Trans-Canada Highway. The building’s scale, stone cladding, and copper roof evoke a time when rail travel was a central feature of life in this country (a theme that comes up in many Canadian cities and towns).
Stop and Smell the Roses
I’ve focused on some of the architectural big shots of St. John’s, but don’t forget the small stuff, too. Check out its famous ‘Jelly Bean’ houses, the brightly coloured wooden row houses that give the city so much cheer, and so much of its architectural character.
And be sure to wander into its nooks and crannies, and its winding lanes and alleys. Take a walk with Haunted Hikes, founded by folklorist Dale Jarvis, now Executive Director of the Heritage Foundation of Newfoundland and Labrador.
As long as you bring curiosity, patience, and sensible footwear with you, St. John’s will yield abundant rewards. Who needs to go south, when you can go east?
Peter Coffman, History & Theory of Architecture program
peter.coffman@carleton.ca
@petercoffman.bsky.social