UBC Theses and Dissertations

UBC Theses Logo

UBC Theses and Dissertations

A 'commerce of taste' in pattern books of Anglican church architecture in Canada 1867 - 1914 Magrill, Barry Stephen 2008

Your browser doesn't seem to have a PDF viewer, please download the PDF to view this item.

Item Metadata

Download

Media
24-ubc_2008_fall_magrill_barry.pdf [ 32.19MB ]
Metadata
JSON: 24-1.0066400.json
JSON-LD: 24-1.0066400-ld.json
RDF/XML (Pretty): 24-1.0066400-rdf.xml
RDF/JSON: 24-1.0066400-rdf.json
Turtle: 24-1.0066400-turtle.txt
N-Triples: 24-1.0066400-rdf-ntriples.txt
Original Record: 24-1.0066400-source.json
Full Text
24-1.0066400-fulltext.txt
Citation
24-1.0066400.ris

Full Text

A “COMMERCE OF TASTE” IN PATTERN BOOKS OFANGLICAN CHURCH ARCHITECTURE IN CANADA 1867 -1914 by BARRY STEPHEN MAGRILL B.A., York University, 2001 M.A., York University, 2003 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES (Fine Arts)  THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver) May 2008 © Barry Stephen Magrill, 2008  ii Abstract This thesis examines the construction of Anglican churches in Canada in the period between 1867 and 1914. During this period settlement and economic expansion occurred alongside new political arrangements and consciousness that involved religious observance and debate. The building of churches became an important site of architectural and cultural formation in part due to the circulation of pattern books and the development of print media. At its broadest level, this thesis assesses the influence of church building across the Confederation in the constitution of social economy and attitude, particularly around ideas of collective identity. Consequently the focus is the analysis of the effects of transatlantic and transcontinental exchanges of ideas of design taste on a representative selection of churches built over the protracted period of Confederation. To this end, the thesis examines the importation of pattern books of architecture, particularly those illustrating popular Neo-Gothic church designs from Britain and the United States. It demonstrates how print media not only influenced architects, builders and committees charged with ecclesiastical construction but also consolidated architectural practice and constrained the fashioning of an autonomous national architectural idiom. The thesis maintains a perspective of the very diversity of ethnic, cultural and political allegiance experienced across Canada that contested the apparent dominance of British imperial authority and colonial regulation. The case studies of Anglican churches re-present larger economic and socio-cultural trends subsequently contested by comparative cases of Roman Catholic, Non-Conformist and even Jewish structures that underscore the complex interchange of ideas and interests. They reveal the use of supposedly hegemonic taste in church design to register the  iii presence of other denominations and religious groups in the formation of Canadian society. The thesis shows how debates about the design of churches in the evolving nation of Canada was integral to the ongoing definition of wider taste in architecture, to the development of local and regional economy, and to communal identity. These processes reflected the new spatial geographies and imagined maps of culture enabled by the commercial production, circulation and consumption of print media such as church pattern books.  iv Table of Contents Abstract ……………………………………………………………………………………ii Table of Contents …………………………………………………………………………iv List of Illustrations………………………………………………………………………viii Acknowledgements ...……………………………………………………………………xiv Dedication ……………………………………………………………………………….xvi I.  II.  Introduction………………………………………………………………………..1 1.1  About Social Formations in Canada……………………………………….1 1.1.1 The Rise of Commercial Society ………………………………….5  1.2  Terrain of the Thesis ………………………………………………………6 1.2.1 The Value of Case Study…………………………………………..9  1.3  Theoretical Approaches ………………………………………………….11  1.4  A Few Words to the Readers of Church Pattern Books………………….13  1.5  Prior Analyses of Pattern Book Consumption……………………………17  1.6  The Construction of the Thesis Chapters ………………………………18  Church-Building and Pattern Books in the Dominion, 1840s and 1850s ………..23 2.1  The Influence of Ecclesiology and Pattern Books on Maritime Churches………………………………………………………………….26 2.1.1 Variations in Church Pattern book Formats……………………...30  2.2  Economy and Religion in Church-Building in the Maritimes and Lower Canada Before 1867………………………………………….41 2.2.1 Religious Politics of Church Pattern Books……………………...48  2.3  The Establishment of New Anglican Dioceses in St. John, New Brunswick, St. John’s Newfoundland, and Montreal, Quebec before 1867 Confederation………………………54 2.3.1 Case Study: Fredericton Cathedral and St. Anne’s Chapel………58  2.4  Selling Early Ecclesiology as Identity in the Maritimes………………….67 2.4.1 Case Study: Anglican Cathedral of St. John’s, Newfoundland ….71  v  III.  2.5  Race, Rebellion, and Politics in Lower and Upper Canada ..……………74 2.5.1 Case Study: Montreal’s Christ Church (later cathedral) 1857…...76 2.5.2 Comparative Case Study: St. Simon and St. Jude, Tignish PEI …79 2.5.3 Comparative Case Study: St. Mary’s Roman Catholic Church (1899-1902), Indian River, PEI ………………………………….81  2.6  Summary …………………………………………………………………83  Property Ownership, Church-Building, and Pattern Book Economies in Ontario and Manitoba in the 1860s and 1870s.............………………………..86 3.1  Anglican Church-Building Alongside Settlement Expansion in Ontario and Manitoba …………………………………………………89 3.1.1 Material Representations of Spirituality …………………………90 3.1.2 Britain’s Parish Church Model in Rural Ontario ………………...96 3.1.3 The Financial Structure of Churches in Ontario and Manitoba after Confederation ………………………………………………98 3.1.4 Tariffs on Imported Books and Pattern Book Consumption……101 3.1.5 Church-Building and Commercial Expansion in Toronto, Ontario ………………………………………………………….103 3.1.6 Material Growth in Toronto after 1867…………………………105 3.1.7 Case Study: The Burial Chapels of St. James-the-Less and the Toronto Necropolis …………………………………….106  3.2  Financial Challenges for Anglican-Church Building in Ontario ……….110 3.2.1 The Context of Re-Constructing Toronto’s St. James Cathedral ………………………………………………………..113 3.2.2 Case Study: St. James’ Cathedral, Toronto …………………….116 3.2.3 Strategies, Tactics, and Surveillance: Completing the Tower at St. James’ Anglican Cathedral ……………………………….123 3.2.4 Religious Dissention in Ontario’s Social Structure after Confederation …………………………………………………..125 3.2.5 Comparative Case Study: The Parsonage for Toronto’s ‘Temple to Methodism’…………………………………………126 3.2.6 Church-Building and the Architectural Profession in Manitoba..128 3.2.7 Case Study: Holy Trinity Anglican Church, Winnipeg, Manitoba ………………………………………………………..131  3.3  About Church Pattern Books and Pattern Book Economy, After Confederation …………………………………………….132 3.3.1 “Designs for Village, Town, and City Churches”: One Pattern Book Produced in Ontario…………………………138 3.3.2 Comparative Case Study: Two St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Churches in Toronto …………………………………………..142  3.4  Summary ………………………………………………………………..145  vi IV.  The Mobility of Church Pattern Books in the Context of Colonialism in Canada ……………………………………….147 4.1  Pattern Book Distribution Between St. John’s and Victoria……………148  4.2  Regional Booksellers, Local Church-Building, and National Imaginings………………………………………………………153 4.2.1 The Local Spread of Empire: Railway, Religion, and Churchbuilding………………………………………………………….157 4.2.2 Comparative Case Study: St. Antoine de Padoue, Batoche, Saskatchewan …………………………………………………...160 4.2.3 Reappraising a ‘National Style of Architecture’ Alongside the Spread of Booksellers …………………………………………..163 4.2.4 Case Study: Holy Trinity, Stanley Mission and St. James, Star City, Saskatchewan ……………………………………………..167  4.3  Pattern Books after 1867………………………………………………..170 4.3.1 Comparative Case Study: Neo-Gothic at Rosh Pina Synagogue (1892), Winnipeg ……………………………………………….173 4.3.2 Book Distribution and Imperial Procedure……………………...174 4.3.3 Case Study: St. Paul’s Anglican Church (1894), Regina, Saskatchewan …………………………………………………177  4.4  Settlement, Tourism, and Book Distribution …………………………...179 4.4.1 Case Study: St. George’s-in-the-Pines and the Banff Springs Hotel, Banff, Alberta……………………………………………182  4.5  Summary ………………………………………………………………..184  V.  Unfinished Business: Church-Building and Pattern Book Consumption in Post-Confederation British Columbia  ………...187  5.1  Promoting British Columbia as Terminus of Confederation and the Gothic Revival………………………………………………………189 5.1.1 Case Study: St James’ Anglican Church, Vancouver, BC……...192  5.2  An “Empty” Land: The Possession and Erasure of First Nations………193 5.2.1 Case study: St. Paul’s, Metlakathla, BC (1874)………………...195 5.2.2 Comparative Case Study: Holy Cross Church, Skookumchuck, BC……………………………………………..199  5.3  British Capital and U.S. Participation in Developing Infrastructure in British Columbia ……………………………………………………..201 5.3.1 Case Study: St. Anne’s (1901-2) and St., Jerome’s (1903), Steveston, BC…………………………………………………………...204 5.3.2 Case Study: St. Saviour’s, Barkerville, BC (1869)……………..209  vii  VI  5.4  The Alternate Influence of U.S. Artistic, Cultural, and Economic Capital on British Columbia’s Churche ………………………………...210 5.4.1 Comparative Case Study: The Episcopal Church of Our Lady, Victoria BC ……………………………………………………………..213  5.5  Sourcing Acceptable Architecture for Evangelical Congregations in British Columbia ……………………………………………………..214 5.5.1 Methodism: Social Reform and Church Reform ……………….214 5.5.2 Comparative Case Study: Metropolitan Methodist Church, Victoria, BC (1890)……………………………………………………..216 5.5.3 The Presbyterian Church in British Columbia………………….218 5.5.4 Comparative Case Study: St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, Victoria, BC (1890)……………………………………………………..219  5.6  Neo-Gothic’s ‘Final Gasp’ in Ecclesiastical Building in Victoria, BC…221 5.6.1 Case Study: St. John the Divine, Victoria, BC …………………221  5.7  Summary ………………………………………………………………..223  Conclusion…. ..…………………………………………………………………225  Illustrations.................…………………………………………………………………..229 Bibliography.....................................................................................................................325 Appendix ‘A’ - Preface to George Truefitt’s Designs for Country Churches ................340 Appendix ‘B’ – Brief Biographies of Pattern Book Authors...........................................342  viii List of Illustrations Fig. 1.1 Elevation of Howden Cathedral from Edmund Sharpe’s Architectural Parallels; or the Progress in Ecclesiastical Architecture in England through the Twelfth and the Thirteenth Centuries Examined in a Series of Parallel Examples, 1848......................................................................................................................229 Fig. 1.2 A section of Whitby Cathedral from Edmund Sharpe’s Architectural Parallels; or the Progress in Ecclesiastical Architecture in England through the Twelfth and the Thirteenth Centuries Examined in a Series of Parallel Examples, 1848......................................................................................................................230 Fig. 1.3 Plan of Barnwell Church, Northamptonshire from Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Parish Churches; being Perspective Views of English Ecclesiastical Structures: Accompanied by Plans Drawn to a Uniform Scale with Descriptive Letterpress, 1848 ..................................................................................................231 Fig. 1.4 Perspective view of Barnwell Church, Northamptonshire from Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Parish Churches; being Perspective Views of English Ecclesiastical Structures: Accompanied by Plans Drawn to a Uniform Scale with Descriptive Letterpress, 1848...............................................................................232 Fig. 1.5 Foliage decoration from James Kellaway Colling’s Examples of English Medieval Foliage and Coloured Decoration Taken from Buildings of the Twelfth to the Fifteenth Century with Descriptive Letterpress, 1874 ...............................233 Fig. 2.1 Design No. 8, a generic design for an Anglican church with crossing tower and transept arms using the Early English Style from Frederick Withers’s Church Architecture Plans Elevations and Views of Twenty-One Churches and Two School Houses Photo Lithographed from Original Drawings with Numerous Illustrations Shewing Details of Construction, Church Fittings, etc., 1873........234 Fig. 2.2 Centrally planned design from George Bidlake’s Sketches of Churches: Designed for the Use of Nonconformists, 1865...................................................235 Fig. 2.3 Roof and scissor truss above the nave of Lympenhoe Church, Norfolk from Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Open Timber Roofs, 1849..............................236 Fig. 2.4 View of Mont St. Michel, France from William Eden Nesfield’s Specimens of Medieval Architecture Chiefly Selected from Examples of the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries in France and Italy, 1862 ...................................................237 Fig. 2.5 Design No. 20 in the style of an Anglican church showing the architect’s diversity from Frederick Withers’s Church Architecture 1873 ...........................238  ix Fig. 2.6 Elevation drawing of the nave from Edmund Sharpe, Illustrations of the Conventual Church of the Benedictine Abbey of St. Germaine at Selby, 1870 ..239 Fig. 2.7. Perspective drawing of Werstham Church, Surrey from the liturgical south east from Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Parish Churches; being Perspective Views of English Ecclesiastical Structures: Accompanied by Plans Drawn to a Uniform Scale with Descriptive Letterpress, 1848..................240 Fig. 2.8. Illustration of Grace Church, Albany New York from Frank Wills’s Ancient English Ecclesiastical Architecture and its Principles Applied to the Wants at the Present Day, 1850 ...........................................................................241 Fig. 2.9. Design No. XIX from George Truefitt’s Designs for Country Churches 1850......................................................................................................242 Fig. 2.10 Charles Dwyer’s The Economy of Church, Parsonage, and School Architecture, 1856................................................................................................243 Fig. 2.11 Example of the Picturesque in Henry Hudson Holly’s Church Architecture, 1871................................................................................................244 Fig. 2.12 Christ Church, Fredericton, New Brunswick (1845), architect Frank Wills and completed by William Butterfield published in The Ecclesiologist vol. 9 April 1848: 360 ...........................................................245 Fig. 2.13 Christ Church, Montreal, (1847), architect Frank Wills. View from the liturgical south-west .............................................................................................246 Fig. 2.14 Perspective drawing from William Butterfield’s Elevations, Sections and Details of Saint John Baptist Church, Shottesbrooke, Berkshire, 1844...............247 Fig. 2.15 St. Michael’s, Long Stanton Cambridgeshire England. C. 13th century illustrated in Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Parish Churches 1848................248 Fig. 2.16 St. Michael’s, Sillery Quebec. Attributed to architect Frank Wills c. 1856 .....249 Fig. 2.17 Christ Church, Montreal, (1847), architect Frank Wills. From the Illustrated London News, March 3 1860: 205.......................................................................250 Fig. 2.18 Proposed British Protestant church in Nice France from the Illustrated London News May 14, 1859: 480........................................................................251 Fig. 2.19 St. Simon and St. Jude, Tignish PEI. Architect Patrick Keely c. 1860 ............252 Fig. 2.20 St. Mary’s, Indian River PEI. Architect William Critchlow Harris 1900-02 ...253  x Fig. 2.21 St. Mary’s, Indian River PEI. Interior looking east. Architect William Critchlow Harris 1900-02 ......................................................................254 Fig. 2.22 Illustration of the roof over the nave of St. Mary’s Church, Wimbotsham, Norfolk from Raphael and J Arthur Brandon’s Open Timber Roofs of the Middle Ages, 1849 ..........................................................................255 Fig. 3.1 Design No. 3, a timber church from Henry Hudson Holly’s Church Architecture, 1871 ...................................................................................256 Fig. 3.2 Elevation and plan of Design No. 11 from Frederick Withers’s Church Architecture Plans Elevations and Views of Twenty-One Churches and Two School Houses Photo Lithographed from Original Drawings with Numerous Illustrations Shewing Details of Construction, Church Fittings, etc., 1873 ...................................................................................257 Fig. 3.3 St. Anne’s Chapel, Fredericton New Brunswick. Architect Frank Wills c. 1845 published in Wills’ Ancient English Ecclesiastical Architecture and its Principles Applied to the Wants of the Church at the Present Day 1850 ............258 Fig. 3.4 Anglican Church of the Messiah, rang du Bord de ‘leau, Sabrevois, Quebec . c.1855....................................................................................................259 Fig. 3.5 St. John the Evangelist, Oxford Mills, Ontario, 1869 ........................................260 Fig. 3.6 Design for iron church published in Instrumenta Ecclesiastica, 1856 ...............261 Fig. 3.7 Design for village chapel from F.J. Jobson’s Chapel and School Architecture as Appropriate to the Buildings of Nonconformists, Particularly to Those of the Wesleyan Methodists, 1850 ........................................................262 Fig. 3.8 St. James-the-Less, Toronto, Ontario. Architects Fred Cumberland and George Storm, 1857-61 .................................................................................263 Fig. 3.9 Toronto Necropolis Chapel. Architect Henry Langley, 1872 ............................264 Fig. 3.10 Design No. 9 from George Truefitt’s Designs for Country Churches, 1850.....................................................................................................265 Fig. 3.11 St. Paul’s Church, Brookline, Mass. and St. Thomas’ Church, Hanover, N.H........................................................................................................266 Fig. 3.12 St. James Anglican Cathedral, Toronto, Ontario. Architect Fred Cumberland, 1852........................................................................................267  xi Fig. 3.13 St. Michael’s Roman Catholic Cathedral, Toronto, Ontario. Architect Henry Langley 1867.............................................................................268 Fig. 3.14 St. James Anglican Cathedral photographed in 1852 before the completion of the tower in 1874. Photo: Toronto Public Library........................269 Fig. 3.15 Photograph of Holy Trinity Anglican Church, Winnipeg, Manitoba published in the Canadian Architect and Builder. Architect Charles Wheeler....270 Fig 3.16 Illustration of north aisle windows of the nave of Strassbourg Cathedral from George Truefitt’s Architectural Sketches on the Continent, 1847 ..............271 Fig. 3.17 Advertisement for Woodward’s Rural Church Architecture noting that architects, builders, and building committees were a target audience, published in the rear of Woodward’s National Architect 1869...........................................272 Fig. 3.18 Advertisement for ‘Dixon’s Low Down Philadelphia Grate’ placed in the rear of Woodward’s National Architect 1869............................................273 Fig. 3.19 Design for a church in Assiniboia by W.A. Langton published in Designs for Village, Town and City Churches, 1893 ..........................................274 Fig. 3.20 Design for a large town church by Daniel J. Crighton of Montreal published in Designs for Village, Town and City Churches, 1893 .....................275 Fig. 3.21 Design for a country church by G. F. Stalker published in Designs for Village, Town and City Churches, 1893..............................................................276 Fig. 3.22 Winning entry for competition supplying publishable material to Designs for Village, Town and City Churches, 1893. This winning design was not published in the actual book.................................................................................277 Fig. 4.1 Design No.8 from Henry Hudson Holly’s Church Architecture, 1871 ..............278 Fig. 4.2 Polemical illustration of two church interiors entitled ‘The House of God’ from Henry Hudson Holly’s Church Architecture, 1871..............................................279 Fig. 4.3 Holy Trinity Anglican Church, Stanley Mission, Saskatchewan. View from the west tower.......................................................................................................280 Fig. 4.4 New Independent Chapel, Abergele, North Wales. Architect, J. Roger Smith published in Examples of Modern Architecture Ecclesiastical and Domestic 1873......................................................................................................................281 Fig. 4.5 ‘Interior of Library’ published in Henry Hudson Holly’s Church Architecture 1871.................................................................................................282  xii Fig. 4.6 West end of St. George’s-in-the-Pines, Banff, Alberta. Architect F.P. Oakley...........................................................................................................283 Fig. 5.1 St. James’ Anglican Church, Vancouver, BC.....................................................284 Fig. 5.2 St. Paul’s Anglican Church, Metlakatla, BC. Photo: Archives of British Columbia ..................................................................................................285 Fig. 5.3 Chapel at Metlakatla. View of interior to the west showing the carved totems........................................................................................................286 Fig. 5.4 Holy Cross, Skookumchuck, BC. View of the west entrance ............................287 Fig. 5.5 Design No. 5, Plate 10 published in Henry Hudson Holly’s Church Architecture 1871.................................................................................................288 Fig. 5.6 St. Anne’s Anglican Church, Steveston, BC. Photo originally published in Work for the Far West .........................................................................................289 Fig. 5.7 St. Saviour’s Anglican Church, Barkerville, BC, 1869......................................290 Fig. 5.8 Illustration of ‘Board-and-Batten’ church design published in the Ecclesiogical Society’s Instrumenta Ecclesiastica 1856......................................291 Fig. 5.9 The Episcopal Church of Our Lady, Victoria, BC. Architect John Teague .......292 Fig. 5.10 Presbyterian church design published in A Hand Book of Designs, containing Plans in Perspective (1868) by the Chicago architect Gurdon P. Randall .................................................................................................................293 Fig. 5.11 Metropolitan Methodist Church, Victoria, BC. Architect Thomas Hooper .....294 Fig. 5.12 Illustration of the New Baptist Church on Palmerston Ave., Toronto, Ontario published in the Canadian Architect and Builder in 1888 ......................295 Fig. 5.13 St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, Victoria, BC. Architect Leonard Buttress Trimen......................................................................296 Fig. 5.14 St. John the Divine, Victoria, BC. Architect Col. William Ridgway Wilson .............................................................297 Fig. 5.15 Design of a Presbyterian Church by architect Arnold Woodroofe published in Canadian Architect and Builder, in 1903 ........................................298  xiii Acknowledgements My production of this thesis was possible because of the dedication and support of my research advisers who have given generously of their time, knowledge, and perspective. I have also benefited from comments by other scholars within the Department of Art History, Visual Art and Theory at the University of British Columbia as well as colleagues, friends, and family. The subject of this project broadly encompassed churchbuilding across Canada and therefore necessitated the help of archivists in various locales, many of which I had the pleasure to visit. My thanks to Maureen Ryan for her insightful comments and suggestions throughout the entire process of my dissertation and graduate education. Carol Knicely provided valuable perspectives and common sense that was used to guide the completion of this project. Malcolm Thurlby’s knowledge of the nineteenth century and its architecture as well as his encouragement of my project – even before he became an official member of my thesis committee – deserves special recognition. I owe an abundant debt to Rhodri Windsor-Liscombe for his critical insight, sagely advice, and thorough analysis that carried through all of my graduate studies and my dissertation in particular. I am thankful to the University of British Columbia for the award of a Travelling Scholarship that enabled me to research the church pattern books in London, England. I wish to convey my gratitude to several people, particularly Melanie Wallace and Doreen Stephens of the Anglican Archives the Diocese of New Westminster and the Ecclesiastical Province of British Columbia and the Yukon, Twila Buttimer at the Provincial Archives of New Brunswick, and Nancy Hurn at the Anglican Diocesan  xiv Archives in Toronto as well as the librarians at the British Museum and at the National Arts Library housed in the Victoria and Albert Museum. Finally, I wish to acknowledge my family for their emotional support and understanding during the time I spent researching and writing this thesis.  xv Dedication To my wife, Judy, who believed in me enough for the both of us. Her persistent support and love through several trials in our life together has been more than anyone could imagine. To my children Jamie, Haley, and Geoffrey for their understanding and patience which they more than paid for in time while I researched and wrote this thesis.  1 I. 1.1  Introduction About Social Formations in Canada This thesis concerns the connections between religion, politics, taste, social  practice, architectural expression, and the development of Canadian social economy in the era of Confederation. More specifically, the thesis uses these factors to examine the business and politics of church-building and the transmission of Neo-Gothic architecture to the Canadas between 1867 and 1914. Three key issues in the formation of society in the Canadas will be examined: the development of national ideologies alongside religion, the role of the church pattern books in circulating particular designs, and the growing influence of economy in the development of print culture. The influence of religion in society’s consolidation was amplified by the mechanical reproduction of the imagery contained in the church pattern books. On the one hand, the pattern books operated as a locus of identification through the publication of elevations, sections, plans, perspectives of churches and architectural details (figs. 1.1,1.2,1.3,1.4 and 1.5). On the other hand, the variety of church designs established in the pattern books only served to increase the exchange between economy, religion, and patterns of public taste. Anglican churches form a significant part of the thesis because that denomination believed itself in control of the forming national enterprise. After the late 1830s, Anglicans operated as though their hegemonic status in Britain cemented privilege and prestige in the Canadas. This advantage was generally expressed in Neo-Gothic architecture. For this reason, I look at a collection of Anglican churches whose construction paralleled the western trajectory of settlement expansion across the Dominion of Canada. However, Anglicans were not as dominant as they believed  2 themselves to be. In reality, Methodists, Baptists, Presbyterians, and even Roman Catholics offered opposing ideologies but comparable Neo-Gothic church designs. Thus, I interpose examples of churches built by other denominations as comparative cases.1 I will show that a diverse set of Christian denominations adapted Neo-Gothic architecture to accord with their functional needs and aesthetic sense, and that these adaptations were related to the growth of consumer culture. As a factor of these new commercial practices, the variety in Neo-Gothic churches – which also paralleled the diversity of the Dominion’s immigrant population – was marketed and controlled by the pattern books. Each denomination followed a method of building churches prescribed in the pattern books primarily written for Anglicans, even though specific books were also developed to cater to the aesthetic needs of other denominations. A number of case studies show how pattern books worked for a diverse group of readers and church-builders. All of the case studies will demonstrate how church buildings were connected with commercial society. In particular, the debates around the aesthetics of a single church building commission will clarify larger social issues linked to what I define the commodification of taste. The connection between early consumer culture and church-building in the Canadas is direct since churches were privately funded. By looking at church architecture as a consumer item frequently related to the pattern books, this thesis demonstrates the multifarious interconnections of religion, taste, economy, politics, and identity. Above the several systems of societal regulation, religion marked out hierarchies of economic and social privilege. Anglicans had the financial backing of the Church of England. Even though money alone did not guarantee social dominance, Anglicans  3 enjoyed a privileged place in the governance of the Confederation of Canada. For this reason, inter-colonial political resistances periodically challenged what might be termed imperial-religious authority in the Dominion. For instance, the Mackenzie Rebellion of 1837 in Upper Canada, the Fenian Raids of 1866, and the ‘Manitoba Resistances’ of 1869-70 and 1885 became exacerbated by the Dominion authorities’ limitation of religious freedoms and restrictions enforced upon First Nations’ access to customary lands. Being correlated with the Dominion’s institutional establishment, Anglicans, for example, became targets for Mackenzie’s primarily Methodist forces. These resistances were constrained by enforced pacification that neglected to address the socio-economic imbalances contributing to the tensions. Nevertheless, the historical approach of this thesis will not lose sight of the fact that imperial and colonial forces believed in, and solicited support for, the rightness of their actions. My thesis is arranged in a chronological and geographical sequence, but applies case studies to avoid a linear framework and thereby illustrates the complex social, economic, and political processes of Confederation. It also seeks to recover the formation of the imagined ‘nationhood’ that embraced political and commercial culture no less than religious practice. An integral part of understanding Canada’s ‘nationhood’ was the creation of infrastructures of religion as well as of governance and communication. The railway, which touched upon all of these factors, was also notionally connected to church-building because the rail generated wealth and transported materials, including pattern books, used to build churches. The railway had much in common with church pattern books because both were instruments for social pacification that also instigated disputes in the places they traversed – and each imbricated politics, economics, and  4 aesthetics. The proximity of the intercontinental rail boosted some small towns in Canada West and ruined others that were by-passed. By contrast, church pattern books showed a unified method of building churches, but offered variety that was facilitated by the commercial character of the book trade. As a result, the Dominion’s church-building congregations were able to pick from the parts of pattern books that they believed most applied to their needs. Several of the churches examined in this thesis will be familiar ones to students of nineteenth-century architectural history but they are subject to novel evaluation. The churches are deliberately juxtaposed against the more obscure examples in order to show the diverse social and economic background of Canada’s church-building endeavours. The churches used in the case studies will be examined in connection with a clutch of pattern books produced in Britain by architects George Truefitt (Architectural Sketches on the Continent, 1848 and Design for Country Churches, London 1850), Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon (Parish Churches, 1st edition, London 1849), as well as, pattern books produced in America by architect Frederick Withers (Church Architecture, New York: 1873) and Davey James Brooks, ed.2 (Examples of Modern Architecture, Boston: 1873). Another significant pattern book was compi= led by British-trained architect Frank Wills entitled, Ancient English Ecclesiastical Architecture and its Principles Applied to the Wants of the Church at the Present Day (New York: 1850). It illustrates medieval European churches and contemporary designs by the author. Looking at the transmission ideas in architecture imported from Britain and the U.S. via the pattern books also enables a discussion of the different social economies of production as well as how these productions interfaced with the Dominion’s readerships. The full-page engraved  5 illustrations in pattern books reflected the socio-cultural geography of the authors and reflected the architectural history of the books’ places of publication in London, New York, and Boston. Thus, authors illustrated churches known to them; British books illustrated British and European medieval churches, and American books generally illustrated and advertised recent nineteenth-century Neo-Gothic designs. Many of the businessmen who sat on church-building committees, the contractors and builders, and even some architects relied on the pattern books and architectural newspapers as their chief sources of fashion in Britain. 1.1.1 The Rise of Commercial Society A ‘commerce of taste’ – more properly defined as commercially driven ‘fashion’ – paralleled the production and consumption cycle evident in the construction of new churches in the Dominion and in the production of the pattern books. The growth of an early consumer society in the nineteenth century was achieved through marketing goods as generically necessary items. Churches were already considered a necessary component in building society but the pattern books’ popularity depended on new assurances on consumer culture. The particular concern of this thesis is the means by which the circulation of print, and related local architectural practice, constituted a commercial society.3 My investigation seeks to contribute to an understanding of the economic systems that created political, social and cultural effects in marketing visual imagery. An important point reflected in this study shows that pattern books, which contained a range of designs categorized by the cost of construction, illustrated the interface of economy and social practice in the identification and classification of readerships.4 Thus, this study reinforces  6 and disrupts historian J.I. Little’s assertion that “few studies have integrated religion into the dynamic of community.”5 The objective of the thesis is to study the business of church-building, as it was associated with the pattern book, as an agent of social change. The significant role of pattern books to religious architecture will be addressed by examining the only known book of church designs produced in Canada: Designs for Village, Town, and City Churches (1893). Modelled on the U.S. publication format, the book will be discussed in Chapter III in order to demonstrate the accommodation of attitudes and processes from the United States in religious practices still founded on British models. The marketing of the pattern books promoted church-building and associated religious institution with the new commercial practices in the constitution of a nationstate. But, as the history of Confederation shows, the process of forming society in British North America was complex, conflicted, and even counter to the stabilizing logic of a dominant colonial narrative. For this reason, my thesis is framed by the notion that there was no uniform imperial policy and related colonial process. Confederation was a ‘deal-making’ process reflecting diverse social and cultural interests within a loose association of regions, rather than a monolithic version of the superficially unifying ‘manifest destiny’ of the United States.6 As with most negotiations, the parties accepted that Confederation meant different things to each participating region. In this sense, provincial politicians likely talked the Confederation into political reality. 1.2  Terrain of the Thesis The period under investigation in the thesis, 1867-1914, coincides with a  formative episode in the social and economic development of the Canadas. The analysis  7 of church designs published in Britain and the U.S., and executed in Canada, corresponds to the theories of nation, modernity, modernization, and social identity that developed in the decades previous and subsequent to official Confederation in 1867. A major element is the way nineteenth-century observers perceived social and economic ‘improvements’ in terms of the spread of new commercial practices. The thesis also explores how social progress in a largely technocratic society was associated with the continued importance of religious institution. In this period, settlement expansion was entrenched in British values and financial investment, yet simultaneously exposed to American economic and cultural influence.7 The threat of an American annexation of the west was a particular concern to British and eastern Canadian investors who were financing the infrastructure pushing settlement and development westward.8 The purpose of focusing on Anglican church-building is to probe imperial power relations that, positively and negatively, constituted the colonial situation. The established Church was a significant agent of the British imperial regime because the monarch was styled ‘Defender of the Faith’ as constituted in the Church of England.9 The imported church pattern books promoted Britain’s architectural fashion and contributed to the reinforcement of British mores, cultural values, and economic structures in the Dominion of Canada, eventually over-written by U.S. hegemony. Taste legitimized British, and to a considerable extent, Anglican cultural privilege. At the same time, the variety of imagery read into the pattern books contributed to intense architectural debates about the way churches should look. Those aesthetic debates reflected the interdenominational rivalries, as well as the internal tension within the Anglican communion about the level of ritual observance in worship. For this reason, the  8 iconography of Neo-Gothic churches that reflected and reinforced British, and particularly Anglican, socio-economic and cultural advantage, in essence, became unanticipated points of contention. Historian William Westfall has pointed out that, on the one hand, the established Church assumed a set of social and economic privileges not supported by canon law. For instance, colonial governments in the early nineteenth century exercised a good deal of authority over the Church by appointing colonial bishops. Church courts had not been reproduced in the Dominion, though the practice continued in England, and colonial governments removed the Church’s ability to collect tithes.10 On the other hand, the same documents that failed to establish the Anglican Church at law showed a clear intention to create a religious structure in the Dominion. For instance, the government of Quebec created policies on the use of the Book of Common Prayer, the school system, marriage, the authority of bishops, and land policy that established the primacy of the Church of England in principle and practice. Westfall argued that the ‘partial’ establishment of the Anglican Church made it a more effective organization by effectively removing the antiquated aspects of its practice. At the same time, the Anglican Church in Canada relied upon the continuation of a traditional social structure controlled largely by it, despite the level of religious competition that grew over the decades since Confederation.11 It is worth bearing in mind that the notion of a ‘modern colonial society’ grew from the term ‘Empire’ coming into popular use to describe British expansion in all of its political, economic, and cultural – even religious – associations. In that regard, the term ‘Dominion’ became associated with British North America after the London Conference of Dec 4, 1866, which presaged the Charlottetown and Quebec Conferences that  9 established official Confederation on July 1, 1867.12 The designation ‘Dominion’ had biblical origin as suggested by the New Brunswick politician Samuel Leonard Tilley (1818-1896) (knighted in 1879) to describe the newly minted territory of Canada by citing Psalm 72:8, “His dominion shall be also from sea to sea.”13 Church pattern books similarly wrapped themselves in the mantle of religion and thereby promoted religious institution as the essential, if also commercial and political, practice devoted to community-building. As well, the link between the established Church and the forming nation-state was exemplified by the St. George, Union Jack, and Red Ensign flags that flew from the towers of Anglican churches throughout the Dominion as everyday regalia of both Canadian and imperial authority. The Empire continued to associate itself with social improvement and modern technology, especially in the era following the London 1851 Great Exhibition – a projection of commerce and technology on a grander scale than was typically found in church pattern books.14 Social improvements were considered to be achievable through the deployment of new knowledge and the pattern books marketed themselves in that manner. 1.2.1 The Value of Case Study A longitudinal series of case studies of church-building is deployed throughout this thesis and deliberately organized geographically across the Dominion in order to contextualize the broader analysis of social formation and the minutiae of building churches and reading church pattern books. The thesis adopts case study to examine systems of action bounded socially, spatially, and temporally.15  10 The inclusion of case studies also enables the analysis of a network of social factors including economy, religion, and individual and collective identity to be visualized as organic, living systems. The thesis applies case study as part methodology, and part critical device to interrogate the constitutive force of these factors. The thesis comprises fourteen case studies, not including ten comparative cases, of church-building in the Dominion, linking the everyday contextual data and theoretical framing with conventional architectural analyses. The case studies of Anglican church-building in the Dominion present the data of ‘real-life’ situations, while the comparative cases of Nonconformist and other dissenting religions redistribute the discursive elements to form a concrete study of power relationships.16 The fourteen cases of Anglican churches built across the Dominion will be spread throughout the chapters of the thesis to show how local building practice adapted to the spread of British and American design initiatives. The cases will show how the spread of pattern book imagery across the Dominion paralleled the actual expansion of settlement and hence church-building, a fundamental part of the country’s social development. The case studies will illustrate how pattern book imagery combined a network of commercial, technological, and religious factors in a particular kind of marketing scheme linked to settlement expansion. These factors included: migration, new building enterprise/techniques, social aspiration, the religious institution in the national formation, and a commerce of taste that legitimated social and economic privilege as well as justified the pursuit of group respectability. This thesis takes into account the resistances and dissentions among other Christian institutions, particularly Catholic, Presbyterian, and Methodist congregations, operating in the Dominion. Consequently, this thesis calls  11 for a varied and even flexible analytical approach to broad contexts and specific research data. 1.3  Theoretical Approaches Though the thesis chiefly engages with the everyday processes of building  churches it also applies aspects of spatial theory, discourse analysis, reception theory, and conventional architectural analysis. Ideas gleaned from these analytic frames are used to interrogate the western spread of church pattern books, settlement expansion, and new commercial practices associated with religion’s influence on social formation. Selling mechanically reproduced visual imagery, in the parlance of Walter Benjamin, liquidated the authenticity and mystifying elements of the original work of art but also commodified the value of representation.17 The mystical authority employed by religious institution was likewise disrupted by modern science and technology. The mechanical spread of print-based visual and verbal imagery, thus, brought about a varied, and opportunistic, use of church illustrations. That the debates coalesced around the way churches should look – fuelled by the variety of church engravings in illustrated pattern books – meant that the agency of the pattern books was both embraced and contested in the context of imperial and colonial authority. Consequently, the thesis draws upon Pierre Bourdieu’s social studies collected in Distinctions (1984), The Field of Cultural Production (1993), and The Social Structures of Economy (2005) are important sources for developing a framework to probe the social, cultural, economic, and symbolic dimensions of taste. Presenting the dynamic, and variable, factors of social formation in action requires spatial and discursive analytic frameworks that visualize human interactions as relationships in oscillation. So much the  12 better to critically analyse the effects of capitalism in socially constituted space. As such, Henri Lefevbre’s critical reading of the social functioning of capital markets, in The Production of Space (1974), is applied in the thesis as complex relations of production. To approach social relations in spatial terms, the activities of groups and individuals building churches in the Dominion will be assessed through Bourdieu’s concept of ‘habitus’.18 ‘Habitus’ is the learned understanding that people have about their social and economic position. Thus, the case studies will demonstrate the ‘habitus’ of colonial actors, who are also periodically agents for the exchange of cultural, symbolic, and economic capital. Their actions were constituted by “systems of dispositions” found in the pattern books’ rhetorics that became socially determined – and self-defining – positions.19 What produced the everyday practices that constituted church-builders’ positions in the Dominion, is the critical focus of the thesis. In The Practices of Everyday Life (1984), Michel De Certeau added two essential factors relative to the thesis: first, that stakeholders including those of so-called inferior status are not passive but active strategists and tacticians in the exchange of cultural, economic, and symbolic capital; and second, that ‘habitus’ needs – or invents – an other in order to function as a theory ‘to explain everything’.20 The latter factor speaks to the nature of postcolonial studies. The thesis takes the position that the efficacy of postcolonial critique should account for the internal confidence of the British imperial project. The savvy entrepreneurship of the Dominion’s Anglican church-builders shows a parallel with colonial-cum-imperial policy and procedure. Comparative cases will show how dominated, and marginalized, religious groups made tactical responses to a dominant western culture, still complicit in constructing ‘otherness’. Consequently, the thesis then moves beyond Benjamin’s critical  13 reading of proto-mass reproduction by situating the synthesis of pattern book receptions alongside the case studies of Anglican church-building at the boundary between production and consumption.21 1.4  ‘A Few Words’ to the Readers of Church Pattern Books The pattern books were produced, as noted, primarily in Britain and the U.S.  Their importation to the Dominion acted as conduits of building ideas that transplanted taste – or architectural fashion – from a different social space. By influencing the construction, renovation, and re-building of churches in the Dominion the mechanisms of social formation can be read into and out of the visual and verbal imagery in pattern books.22 Of especial interest to the forming social order was the (re)organization and exploitation of growing markets, the opportunistic uses of iconography in the construction of built form, and the complex cultural dynamics of identity-making.23 Each of these factors was increasingly associated with the social impact of new commercial practices that affected post-1850s modern ‘lifestyle’. An important commodity related to class distinctions through economy was taste, which Anglican church-builders often claimed despite its closer associations with the transience of fashion. The reasons that architects produced pattern books varied but generally reflected a desire to legitimate their practices, separate themselves from builders and contractors, illustrate their historical study abroad on the Continent, and demonstrate their superior draughtsmanship. As a group, these authors constituted a multifarious voice that spoke the grammar of medieval architectural authority only available in the pattern books to many church-builders in the Dominion of Canada. However, the pattern books also represented the circulation of visual imagery that democratized the architect’s, and even  14 history’s, ‘authority’. This democratization of visuality was exemplified by the variety in aesthetics and planning of the Dominion’s churches built between 1867 and 1914. As such, the endurance of architectural ‘authority’ increasingly became associated with the commercially driven transience of fashion. Thereby taste and architectural fashion was brought into a discourse around ‘popular’ imagery.24 The complexity of the situation was compounded particularly after the 1870s by British medievalism adopting a sequential series of new ‘authoritative’ images and rhetorics to satisfy the consumption practices of growing readerships. The result was the continuous insinuation of authority through the operation of diminishing rank. With a flair for business, each author recognised the new importance of providing customers with a variety of ‘correct’ antiquarian designs in everincreasing high-quality reproductions. Church pattern books formed part of the expansion of print publication and of the growth of professional architectural organization, which depended largely on illustrated newspapers, books, and magazines. In addition, illustrated encyclopaedic volumes of world architectural history promoted transoceanic imperial political and economic resources, which profited the British architectural profession. Promoting architectural professionalism in the Dominion involved reaching a broad cross-section of the Englishspeaking population. The effect of marketing the visual imagery of churches increased the variety of audience reception and interpretation. Though the church pattern books contained replicable plans and aesthetics of mainly gothic churches, audiences opportunistically selected from parts of the specimen designs that best suited them. Reading ecclesiastical pattern books was analogous to shopping by mail-order catalogue – a new commercial practice – for ‘ancient-inspired’ church designs. The loyalist village  15 of Maugerville, New Brunswick built an Anglican church, possibly designed by architect and pattern book author Frank Wills,25 which exhibits a Neo-Gothic aesthetic paralleling churches in England’s more prosperous communities. The broach spire on the church in Maugerville is modelled on English examples such as Shiere Church, Surrey, an illustration of which was published in Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s pattern book, Parish Churches (1849).26 The circulation of print media gave taste-cum-fashion a complex spatial dimension. The spatial property of a ‘commerce of taste’ was a major component channelling two-dimensional visual imagery into the built form. Transposing designs on paper into the built form was the privileged domain of the architect and builder. The architects (many of whom were also pattern book authors) extended similar privileges to their readers. However, readers’ receptions of pattern books challenged the author’s privileged position because interpretations varied. The profound effect of pattern books’ reception was in the way that mechanical reproduction proliferated cultural images and signs, disrupting the mystical aura around the medieval buildings the books were meant to promote.27 The growing impact of print media was exemplified by the emergence of public opinion. An increase in the availability of illustrated newspapers, magazines, and books attests to the social significance of print media’s spread of ideas. The diverse nature of public opinion meant that readers opportunistically consumed the parts of Gothic Revival imagery that backed their socio-economic and cultural claims. The dissemination of pattern books involved the (re)organization and exploitation of markets that developed from settlement expansion. Marketing visual and verbal imagery through taste’s  16 distinctions associated the rise of a new middle-class consumer society with religious institution, in a close and conflictual relationship. Visual imagery spread to, and circulated within, British North America because readerships had been readied for the purchase of imported pattern books. Canadian publications, such as, the Canadian Illustrated News (1869-1883) and the Canadian Architect and Builder (1888-1908) followed, more or less, the antiquarian practices promoted by similar British publications, like the Illustrated London News (1842 - 1989) and The Builder (1843-1966). The railway enabled the extensive distribution of such journals across the Dominion. Architects practicing in the Dominion - mostly British-trained - appropriated antique or medieval planning and aesthetics to legitimize the modern cultural claims of their clientele. The deployment of British and European medieval-revival motifs lent churches built in the Dominion an appearance of permanence. The medieval aesthetic adopted by colonial church-builders legitimated the claims to superior taste. As part of the emergent ‘popular’ literature, akin to journal and magazine consumption, illustrated church pattern books marketed social mores to professional and general audiences.28 As well, the books carried aesthetic ideas about the way churches should look. The church pattern books demonstrated how religious architecture was imaged alongside local, and Confederated, identity and culture in the expanding Dominion.29 The books also pointed to changes in architectural fashion, though the actual transience of fashion was marketed in the books as the permanence of taste. Church pattern books illustrated an affinity with British social organization that paralleled social formation in the Dominion. The distribution of the pattern books forecast other infrastructures engaged in nation-building such as the railway that carried  17 imperial authority into the Dominion’s expanding settlements.30 Since the Dominion’s expansion was associated with the nineteenth century’s attraction to movement and mobility, the pattern books can be understood as having moved architectural fashion across vast distances. 1.5  Prior Analyses of Pattern Book Consumption Pattern books have received little attention from scholars excepting some research  predominantly into U.S. production. This has meant that almost no attention has been paid to pattern books in terms of issues of knowledge brokering. Neither have pattern books been discussed as a way of measuring dynamic social situations. The notable exceptions are James O’Gorman’s volume, American Architects and their Books to 1848, which shows how books were watersheds for the shift from colonial building practices to architectural professionalism.31 Similarly, Dell Upton’s article entitled, ‘Pattern Books and Professionalism: Aspects of the Transformation of Domestic Architecture in America, 1800-1860’ addresses the interface of architects’ professional claims and pattern books of domestic architecture, with respect to the emergence of popular and national building styles. Linda Smiens’ book, Building an American Identity: Pattern Book Homes and Communities 1870-190032 deals with the notion that an American national identity was constructed through a relationship between house architecture and domestic taste. A recent article by Pierre du Prey entitled “John Soane, John Plaw, and Prince Edward Island” demonstrated how pattern books were at the centre of the transatlantic transmission of architectural knowledge between England and PEI, which crossed cultural and economic, and therefore, social boundaries.33 Without exception scholars in the U.S. examine U.S. pattern books leaving a void in the scholarship around  18 the impact of British and U.S. books on the Dominion of Canada. More work needs to be done on the interface of visual imagery with social formation, the connection between spreading print media and collective identity, as well as, the relationship between political economy and religious institution. An altogether different, but no less significant source of data, has been Henry Russell Hitchcock’s American Architectural Books: A List of Books, Portfolios, and Pamphlets on Architecture and Related Subjects Published in America Before 1895 (1946, re-printed 1976 on microfiche), which lists the known American and re-printed British pattern books of domestic, civic, and religious architecture. Another major source that contextualizes book production and reading audiences in the Dominion has been History of the Book in Canada, volume two: 1840-1918 (2005) eds. Lamonde, Fleming, and Black. 1.6  The Organization of the Thesis In order to unravel some of the issues accompanying the spread of church-  building and its intersection with print-based visual imagery (the pattern books) and to allow broad questions about the social life of church designs, this thesis will focus on particular local points of tension. To this end, Chapter Two probes the brokering of knowledge, religion, and group identity through the pattern books with respect to a new ‘commerce of taste’. Chapter Three investigates how print-based visual imagery coming out of Britain and America legitimized Anglican social and economic privilege in the Dominion’s economy. Chapter Four is arranged to draw attention to the social life of pattern books and book economy, including the politics of book ownership, social  19 classification, and selling aesthetics. Chapter Five is organized around the movement of books, people, and the economy as a metaphor for the spread of visuality and identity. My second chapter is a deliberately concise analysis of early nineteenth-century church building. The chapter will contextualize the constitution of consumer culture and analyse the appropriation of visual imagery in the process of social classification. Chapter Two investigates how knowledge was marketed to the Dominion alongside socioeconomic and professional privilege. A transatlantic reading of a ‘commerce of taste’ will use Charles Eastlake’s discourse in Hints on Household Taste in Furniture, Upholstery, and other Details (1878) and A History of the Gothic Revival (1872) in conjunction with local journalistic references from the Canadian Architect and Builder. Case studies include the Anglican cathedral (1853) and St. Anne’s Chapel (1846) in Fredericton, New Brunswick, Christ Church in Montreal (1857), Quebec, and the Anglican cathedral (1850) in St. John’s, Newfoundland. Newfoundland is included in the thesis though it remained a separate colony until 1949 because it was also part of the picture of the Dominion in terms of trade, commerce, and religious interchange. Comparative cases include, the Roman Catholic church of St. Simon and St. Jude (1860) in Tignish, PEI, and St. Mary’s Roman Catholic Church (1900), Indian River, PEI. Colonial self-governance and economic growth were steadily becoming autonomous, a little scorched by the demise of the British mercantile system, and then boosted by new Reciprocity Treaty with the seaboard States of America to the stage that businessmen spread positive sentiment toward a union of federated provinces. The colonial government responded to new feelings of autonomy by raising tariffs as a mildly protective device, which increased the ire of some manufactures in England and created some transatlantic tensions.34  20 Meanwhile, Maritimers debated the value of political union and some, like Samuel Tilley’s government in New Brunswick, initially openly opposed the union of Maritime provinces.35 Visual images associated with church-building generated the anticipation of growth, irrespective of strained imperial-colonial, and even inter-colonial relations. Churches – particularly those of Anglican denomination – appeared as necessary to social and cultural growth as did the anticipated railway that was seen to benefit the St. Lawrence region’s overburdened canal system. My third chapter will examine the workings of the Dominion’s economy and political system with special reference to the connection between religious institution and land. Land and related economy were significant factors in the enormous amount of cajolery and deal-making that pulled the union together.36 Social privilege and property were closely related during the period when the Dominion was in the early stages of defining itself. In addition, questions of the importance of religion and ritual underpinned contemporary debates about the ‘correct’ mode of modern lifestyle. The case studies include St. James’ Cathedral (1853), St. James the Less (1861) and the Necropolis Chapel (1872) in Toronto, Ontario and Holy Trinity Church (1883) in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Comparative cases include, Metropolitan Methodist Church (1870-73), Toronto and the Roman Catholic Church of Our Lady (begun, 1876 with towers completed in 1888) in Guelph, Ontario. My fourth chapter will analyze the commercial structure centred around the importation and distribution of pattern books. The books became elements of entrepreneurial pragmatics and social cohesion in the context of imperial-cum-colonial power relations. In post-Confederated society, the ‘threat’ of U.S. annexation became a  21 cultural as well as a geographic issue, leading to new political and financial concerns about railway construction guarantees. Pattern book readerships varied from builders needing technical assistance, to church-building committees wanting design advice, to architects’ apprentices needing teaching tools, and finally, to architecture enthusiasts collecting high-quality visual representations of architectural achievements. The chapter will further examine the relation between book imports, new commercial practices, and the building trades in the Dominion from the perspective of a non-professional reader. The readerships were tapping into a matrix of increased commercial consumption, ‘armchair’ tourism, and possession as a sign of social status. Case studies include Holy Trinity at Stanley Mission (1854) and St. James at Star City (c.1909), Saskatchewan as well as St. George’s-in-the-Pines (1889-97), Banff, Alberta. Comparative cases include, Rosh Pina Synagogue (1892), Winnipeg, St. Antoine de Padoue (1883), Batoche, Saskatchewan, and the Roman Catholic Church of Our Lady (c. 1907), Fort Providence, N.W.T. My fifth chapter examines the circulation of books, people, and commercial practice alongside the apparent completion of the Confederation project. Churches continued to be built even after the completion of the railway, facilitated by increasing settlement moving westward and expanding personal wealth. The pattern books became magazines, demonstrating the resonance between reproduction and fashion. The appeal of Neo-Gothic to First Nations church-builders and the expectations that they should build churches in that style of architecture were experienced alongside problems of their possession and cultural erasure. Case studies include St. John the Divine (1912) in Victoria and Christ Church (now cathedral) (1895) in Vancouver, British Columbia, as  22 well as, St. Saviour’s (1869), Barkerville, British Columbia and the First Nations church of St. Paul’s (1874) at Metlakatla in British Columbia. Comparative cases include, Metropolitan Methodist Church (1890), St. Andrew’s Presbyterian (1890), the Reformed Episcopal Church of Our Lord (1874) and St. Andrew’s Roman Catholic (1892), Victoria, as well as, Holy Cross (1905) built by the InShuch First Nation at the Skookumchuck Reserve. The variety of church designs employed in the Dominion was associated with the debates about church aesthetics derived in no small measure from the pattern books. Though rooted in tradition, church-building exemplified that new form of commerce that applied religion, taste, and knowledge to matters of politics and social formation. The modern expression of these factors utilized new forms of mechanical reproduction, which contributed to the complex formulations of public taste. The pattern books claimed authority of design, religion, art practices, and medieval history even though the books were also associated with new forms of commerce.  23  II.  Church-Building and Pattern Books in the Dominion, 1840s and 1850s “…the social world is present in its entirety in every ‘economic’ action.” Pierre Bourdieu37  In the 1840s and 50s, the processes of building churches in the Maritimes and Lower Canada were paralleled in the pattern books’ constitution of economy and politics no less than religion.38 The formation of political, religious, and economic structures in these eastern regions sustained a profound cultural affinity with Britain. For that reason, the production of a species of Neo-Gothic in New Brunswick, Newfoundland, and Quebec was comparable to that of the Neo-Gothic churches then being constructed in Britain. There were, of course, differences in the Canadas expressed in terms of taste due to the differences in site conditions, building materials, skilled labour, and available financing, but the variety of church designs was related to the importation of the pattern books. This chapter probes the cultural politics of religion by examining the visual and verbal guidance that church pattern books provided to church-builders. This was not simply a matter of transmitting new kinds of data from one place to another, but rather a complex set of social patterns combined with historical references to constitute the processes apparent in church-building. To these ends, history was brought into the service of contemporary architecture. This chapter will analyze the marketing of Neo-Gothic architecture to church-builders in the Maritimes and Lower Canada by looking into the discourse around early ‘Ecclesiology’, a particular manifestation of the Gothic Revival. Ecclesiology referred placidly to the study of medieval church architecture, but its most potent characteristic was its moral biases and aesthetic judgements.39 The promoters of  24 Ecclesiology wanted their species of the Gothic Revival to appear permanent and therefore deserving of wide emulation. These ideas were summed up in the pattern book by British architect George Truefitt (1825-1902), Designs for Country Churches (1850), which ostensibly provided a “calculated” influence over “public taste”, derived from the commercial demand for “illustrated information”.40 Truefitt asserted that he had correctly estimated the Gothic “spirit” (the preface is quoted in full in Appendix A). He deftly disassociated himself from “heathenism” and “copyism” by adopting empirical and archaeological methods.41 This chapter deliberately focuses on the constitution of society in the Dominion in the decades preceding 1867 in order to establish, for the subsequent chapters, the position and strategies of church-builders active in post-1867 Confederated society. In the Maritimes and Lower Canada, collective identities were forming as a result of group and individual socio-economic and cultural interactions. Colonial officials trying to increase the amount of foreign investment in the Canadas were obliged to veil the cultural and economic tensions between Upper and Lower Canada. A façade of stability was projected internationally even though the limits of group cohesion were being tested in Canada. However, the deal-making process behind Confederation, intensified exponentially during the decades leading up to 1867, was a macrocosm of these geo-political, religious, and economic factors. For the sake of clarity, this thesis will consider ‘source books’ and ‘pattern books’ without conceding to literary categorizations, except to note the important social distinctions related to the places of publication. Thus, the thesis will adopt the term ‘pattern book’ as a general concept for books involved in the appropriation of a medieval  25 aesthetic for nineteenth-century church-builders. I will not judge their actual success in changing the world of building, rather my project is about the way the pattern book authors activated fashion in the endeavour to bridge gaps in knowledge. I do not lose sight of the close association between the way knowledge and fashion was constituted, especially taking twenty-first century perspectives into account. The case studies in this chapter are comprised of churches built in the concentrated settlements in Fredericton, New Brunswick; St. John’s, Newfoundland; and, Montreal, Quebec. Case selections were based on the high degree in which religion and commerce acted as determinants of social convention in the test communities. Though Newfoundland was a separate colony in the 1840s and 50s it is included in the data because it was part of the forming Dominion’s architectural, social, economic, and colonial terrain. Comparative case studies of the construction of Prince Edward Island’s Roman Catholic churches of St. Simon and St. Jude’s, Tignish and St. Mary’s, Indian River are offset against a case study of the construction of the Anglican cathedral in Montreal in order to illustrate the diversity, yet shared situation, among settler identities. Setting up the context of church-building and pattern book consumption requires a brief historical sketch of the Ecclesiological movement in the 1840s and 50s. Then follows an examination of the pattern book formats will be used to contextualize the subsequent analyses of their distribution and consumption. This sketch shows the relation between the print-based church pattern books and the dispositions of church builders in the Maritimes. An examination of the interface between economy and religion then follows. Consequently, this chapter looks at the way that pattern books appeared to offer valuable architectural knowledge when, in reality, the books used taste to legitimize and  26 reify Ecclesiological judgements. When reading through a clutch of church pattern books, the marketing of Ecclesiology is apparent. In this sense I approach Ecclesiology as a commodity and political instrument of taste; thus, the term ‘spectacle’ applies to Ecclesiology, and to the pattern books themselves, as “capital accumulated until it becomes an image”.42 2.1  The Influence of Ecclesiology and Pattern Books on Maritime Churches During the mid-nineteenth century, Ecclesiological rhetoric intensified. As I will  show, liturgy, knowledge, science, taste, and fashion came to the fore in debates in Britain and the Canadas. Yet, Ecclesiology was more ephemeral than its advocates cared to admit, leading a core clutch of supporters to create a continuous stream of claims about its ‘superiority’. The archaeological precedent that underlay Ecclesiology controlled the way the empirical data was used in Gothic Revival churches. A.W.N. Pugin created a series of architectural principles around the idea of emulating the truthfulness of medieval construction.43 Churches built in the nineteenth century were deemed Ecclesiologically ‘correct’ if they obeyed a certain architectural grammar, which included asymmetrically planned and separately articulated building components, low exterior walls, steep roofs, towers with spires, pointed windows, materials used truthfully, and ornament that served a structural purpose.44 This grammar was learned through the empirical study of medieval churches that A.W. N. Pugin had gleaned by assisting his father, Augustus Charles Pugin, in the completion of pattern books including Pugin’s Gothic Ornaments, Selected from Various Buildings in England and France (1831). The pattern book authors that followed A.W.N. Pugin tended to reduce his architectural principles to a simplified equation of taste.  27 Pursuant to the architectural principles advocated by A.W.N. Pugin, the designers of Anglican churches wrote books that promoted the longitudinal axis, thus advocating rectangular buildings with aisled naves.45 Ritual forms of Christian worship were enforced through this type of church design. A series of pattern books including Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Parish Churches (1849), Edmund Sharpe’s Architectural Parallels (1848), Frederick Withers’ Church Architecture (1873), and George Woodward’s Rural Church Architecture (1868) described how the Anglican Communion preferred this type of church design (fig. 2.1). By contrast, other pattern books written for the consumption of non-conformist congregations, including Methodist, Baptist, and even Presbyterian groups resisted the rectangular plan that facilitated ritual worship. These books illustrated interior spaces organized to create unobstructed sightlines to the pulpit, widened naves, and amphi-theatrical seating plans. The British architect George Bidlake who wrote Sketches of Churches: Designed for the Use of Nonconformists (1865) and Joseph Crouch and Edmund Butler who wrote Churches, Mission Halls, and Schools for Nonconformists (1901) advertised amphi-theatrical and centrally planned churches in order to develop effective designs for ‘experiential’ worship and to position Anglicans as conventional, unexciting, and anti-modern (fig. 2.2). The Ecclesiological principles of architecture preferred by Anglicans were transmitted to the Canadas via the immigration of British-trained architects, clergymen, and the importation of Neo-Gothic church pattern books, which carried associated rhetorics and imagery. In the pattern books, journals, magazines, and historical texts, Neo-Gothic was marketed as ‘Pointed’ or ‘Christian’ architecture in reference to its association with a worshipful approach to antiquarian practice.  28 Ecclesiology resonated particularly strongly in the Maritimes among a clutch of bishops newly installed from Britain during the mid-nineteenth century, Bishop John Medley of New Brunswick (1845-1892), Bishop Edward Feild of Newfoundland (184676), and Bishop Francis Fulford of Montreal (1850-1868). However, the production of Ecclesiologically ‘correct’ or ‘tasteful’ churches was expensive. For instance, the open timber roofs and complex truss systems called for in the pattern books were more costly and complex than Maritime builders were accustomed to. Carpenters were loyal to methods they knew to be ‘tried and true’, such as the use of triangular roof trusses that produced flat ceilings in homes. For this reason, many of the early Maritime churches retained the aesthetic of Methodist single-room meeting houses. Christian overtones were used to market the open-timber roofs of Ecclesiologically ‘correct’ churches to builders and the pattern book readers. Bishops marketed Ecclesiological principles as the only reasonable and tasteful solution for building churches. Advocates of Ecclesiology even appealed, in the Dominion, to people’s practical logic by arguing that the steeply pointed roofs produced by open-timber systems countered the effects of heavy snowfalls.46 These roofing systems which often used scissor-trusses were described in Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Open Timber Roofs (1849) and later on in Frank E. Kidder’s Building Construction and Superintendence: Part III. Trussed Roofs and Roof Trusses (1895) (fig. 2.3).47 These roofing systems eventually became tradition in the Maritimes, which was known for its high-grade supply of timber. The lumber and shipbuilding industries in New Brunswick and Newfoundland actually primed the use of open timber roofs in churches.48  29 Finding the money to build Ecclesiologically ‘correct’ churches in the Maritimes was a challenge for bishops Feild and Medley. The uneven commercial development meant that individual and corporate wealth was spread thinly across the Maritimes. A few concentrated pools of owners of lumber, shipbuilding, and shipping interests became more diversified when merchants ceased to operate as ship-owners, but the spread of this wealth took several generations to develop.49 The risk-reward markets in the Maritimes translated into fewer but sometimes larger donations to church-building. The difficult economies inflamed the tensions between Feild, who was a ‘High-churchman’ that respected ritual liturgical practices, and his ‘Low Church’ congregation. Frustrated by the lack of local cooperation from his Anglican congregation, Feild privately referred to them as ignorant “fishmongers”.50 Maritime bishops compensated for the uncertain sources of local funding by travelling back to England in search of a variety of funding opportunities. Bishop Feild relied upon several forms of funding from Britain that included a Royal letter of credit and monies donated from the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts. Architectural associations and individual Anglican congregations in Britain also donated monies.51 The Maritime business interests became disadvantaged by the wealth accruing in nearby regions. As a result, donations to church-building enterprises in Montreal were more frequent after that city assumed the benefits of fishing, farming, and sometimes logging and shipbuilding once enjoyed by the Maritimes. Consequently, Bishop Fulford in Montreal did not have to resort to the drastic measures that Bishop Feild in St. John’s had had to adopt to complete his cathedral.  30 Money was an important factor in building churches but the advocates of Ecclesiology publicly expressed its architectural principles in doctrinal terms. They saw Ecclesiology as an architectural science with religious overtones. This perspective on Ecclesiology mirrored a description of an imagined confederated Canada in a remark made, in 1866, by the New Brunswick politician Francis Hibbard. He noted that as a unified whole Canada: would advance more rapidly in science, and literature, in railroads and telegraphs, in civilization and religion, than we do at present.”52 As instruments of knowledge, taste, architectural principles, and communal enterprise church pattern books were significant markers of the intersection of science, governance, efficiency, and technique. The combination of these factors was involved in the process of identity-making and even in the act of Confederation. In the Dominion, as in Britain, the Ecclesiological movement became an instrument of religious and social politics such that taste and archaeological ‘correctness’ became synonymous with liturgy and worship.53 The term ‘correct’ legitimated class division and conservative politics. 2.1.1 Variations in Church Pattern Book Formats The business of marketing Ecclesiology in church-building demonstrated that economy was a matrix around which all other social structures were organized.54 The pattern books used visual and verbal modes combined with new commercial practices and conventional religious institution to market Ecclesiology. Their production can be divided into two fundamental formats: source books and pattern books. Source books contained elevations, sections, perspective views, plans, and the architectural details of ‘genuine’ medieval buildings, which authors recorded directly from their travels, such as, British architect William Eden Nesfield’s book Specimens of Medieval Architecture  31 Chiefly Selected from Examples of the 12th and 13th Centuries in France and Italy (1862). Nesfield’s book illustrated towers, interiors, doorways, and foliage, as well as, sweeping picturesque exteriors (fig. 2.4). Nesfield produced Specimens of Medieval Architecture in order to distinguish his draughtsmanship skills above those of his direct competitors in Britain, especially other architects that wrote pattern books. Customarily, Nesfield used the pattern book’s introductory section to legitimize his understanding of history, architecture, and the Neo-Gothic, all of which were constituted as co-dependent by the pundits of the Medieval Revival. Nesfield used Continental architecture strategically to cut against the prevailing belief among British architects that English medieval building, and by association Neo-Gothic, was superior to that of other European countries.55 Pattern books, by contrast, contained perspective views and plans sometimes accompanied by elevations and details about construction of the ‘latest’ nineteenthcentury churches. These books sometimes included schematics as though the author was showing the reader (amateur builders in most cases) how to re-construct the illustrated design. This particular format was popularized in the U.S. by authors who promoted their own designs. A prime example was U.S. architect Frederick Withers’s book Church Architecture: Plans, Elevations, and Views of Twenty-One Churches and Two School Houses (1873) (fig.2.5). Since I reject the arbitrariness of precise literary categories, it appears as though the typography of visual material in pattern books had a broad range.56 It is nevertheless important to provide a brief description of the books and to illustrate a few things about their production. Firstly, there were books depicting a full suite of views, elevations, and plans of a single church building (Edmund Sharpe, Illustrations of the Conventual Church  32 of the Benedictine Abbey of St. Germaine at Selby, 1870) (fig. 2.6). Secondly, there were books depicting a series of medieval cathedrals and churches, some categorized by country (Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon, Parish Churches; Being Perspective Views of English Ecclesiastical Structures Accompanied by Plans Drawn to a Uniform Scale, 1849) (fig. 2.7). Thirdly, there were books comprised of a haphazard collection of renderings by well-known architects (contributors to Examples of Modern Architecture, Ecclesiastical and Domestic, 1873: Sir George Gilbert Scott, George Edmund Street, and J.P. Seddon).57 U.S. pattern books tended to blur the distinction between medieval and medieval revival architecture by including both types of design (eg. Frank Wills’s Ancient Ecclesiastical Architecture, 1850) (fig. 2.8). Wills remarked that his friends had encouraged the architect to include some of his own modest designs among the depictions of medieval originals. Wills may have been exhibiting false humility and feigning disinterestedness in making money from using history to market his architectural practice. By the 1870s, U.S. architects including Frederick Withers and Henry Hudson Holly advertised their own designs in their pattern books that coincidently included smaller historical introductory sections. As the U.S. pattern books gained popularity in North America the legitimacy of history was superseded by architectural fashion. Taken together, the British and U.S. pattern book production exemplified patterns of public taste through paraphrasing European history. Although Canada was not a major market for British and U.S. pattern books their impact on building in the Dominion was profound. Architects in Canada believed what British and U.S. architects/pattern book authors wrote: that European architectural history – especially in its printed format –  33 could be propelled into the service of modern architectural fashion. When the serial production and consumption of U.S. pattern books shifted the centre of the Gothic Revival from Europe to New York, architectural fashion in Canada followed suit. From Fredericton, New Brunswick, the British-trained architect Frank Wills moved in 1848 to New York and inaugurated the New York Ecclesiological Society modelled on its namesakes in Britain. Wills founded, in 1848, a quarterly journal called The New York Ecclesiologist that echoed the format of Britain’s Ecclesiologist (1841-68), a publication discussed in detail later in this chapter. Examining the content of the various pattern books is another way of visualizing their consumption. Consequently, it appears that two varieties of literature converged to produce church architecture pattern books: encyclopaedic volumes of architecture that used small-format diagrammatic pictures, and books referencing taste that contained large-format illustrations. I address these encyclopaedic volumes of the history of the world’s architecture at this early point in the thesis because their presentation of knowledge, or ‘science’, was used to legitimate taste presented in the books containing large-format Picturesque illustrations. Encyclopaedic books of architecture produced by Joseph Gwilt, John Henry Parker, Rev. George Wolfe Shinn, and James Fergusson exemplify how print-based illustrations were used in imperial appropriations of ancient architecture, updated to contemporary construction methods. Like these books of general architectural knowledge, the pattern books marketed knowledge that was associated with a ‘selfimprovement’ movement active in the period. Demonstrating the interconnection between religion and political economy, pattern books amplified the oft-repeated maxim  34 from self-improvement manuals that “heaven helps those who help themselves”.58 Joseph Gwilt’s Encyclopaedia of Architecture Historical, Theoretical, and Practical (1842, several re-prints) used roughly 1700 thumbnail-sized wood-cut illustrations, inset within the text pages, to demonstrate a variety of constructions from past civilizations. Gwilt depicted Babylonian, Persian, Egytpian, Grecian, and Chinese cultures, though not without exoticizing them for a western audience. The book’s temporal and geographic sections, which also included a section on ‘Pointed’, or Gothic architecture, corresponded to the book’s later sectional divisions that taught the practical methods of construction using geometry and proportion. John Henry Parker’s Introduction to the Study of Gothic Architecture (1849, re-printed 1861, 1873, 1877, 1909) also used small-sized, wood-cut engravings, inset in the text, to trace the trajectory of the Gothic Revival from its roots in England’s Saxon heritage to its spread onto the Continent.59 Reference books such as Parker’s A Glossary of Terms Used in Grecian, Roman, Italian, and Gothic (1846, several re-prints) as well as Thomas Rickman’s An Attempt to Discriminate the Styles of English Architecture, from the Conquest to the Reformation (1817, several re-prints) wrote the history of gothic architecture in Britain’s favour. In America, Rev. George Wolfe Shinn’s King’s Handbook of Notable Episcopal Churches in the United States (1889, re-printed 1893) experimented in a few of its one-hundred images with photogravure, demonstrating technique over substance. Chiefly, however, engraving was the pattern book’s staple means of conveying images of Neo-Gothic churches built across America because the books always tried to appear like the bound volumes of expensive etchings.  35 James Fergusson’s illustrations in History of the Modern Styles of Architecture (1862, re-printed 1873, 1891) progressed from wood-cut engravings, to steel-plate engravings, to photo-lithographic techniques as the book’s sections proceeded, thereby exemplifying an even closer relationship with new commercial practices. One can see the progression in print technologies, brought to market by new economies, of which the ‘commerce of taste’ was an important feature. Technical and economic progress appeared metaphoric of the architectural improvements discussed in Fergusson’s volume of books. Ironically, Fergusson was critical of progress, as exemplified by the way he constructed the purity and simplicity of religion against the complicated socio-economic and technical aspects of modern engineering. Indeed, Fergusson’s introductory section began by stating that the Gothic Revival was “mainly an ecclesiastical movement…the real hold it has upon the people arises from their religious… feelings.”60 His volume proceeded through architectural styles used in England, Europe, and America, concluding with a section on civil and military engineering in which he suggested the enforced separation of engineering from architecture. For Fergusson, architecture was grounded in nostalgia for the noble edifices of the past while engineering was concerned chiefly with the management of the future. For example, Fergusson lamented, rather than extolled, the trail blazed by architectural improvements: …the history of Architecture during the three or four centuries to which the contents of this treatise extend… is sufficiently melancholy and discouraging. For the first time in history the most civilized nations of the world have agreed to forsake the only path that could lead to progress or perfection in the “Master Art”, and have been wandering after shadows that constantly elude their grasp. When we consider the extent to which building operations have been carried during that period, the amount of wealth lavished on architectural decoration, and the amount of skill and knowledge available for its direction, it is very sad to think that all should have been comparatively wasted…61  36 His sadness was moderated by a positive belief that numerous, well-instructed architects ready in the earnest exercise of their vocations were prepared to raise architectural practice toward ‘perfection’.62 Linking commerce, knowledge, and taste, Fergusson wrote: We have more wealth, more mechanical skill, more refinement than any nation, except perhaps the Greeks, and taste (even if not innate) may result from the immense extent of our knowledge.63 These illustrated encyclopaedic books of architecture contributed to the increased demand for architectural knowledge. Akin to the ‘do-it-yourself’ manual, church pattern books presented themselves as though giving needed advice for the builder or church building committee. Indeed, pattern book rhetorics went so far as to construct within society the ‘need’ for building advice, thereby assuring continued readerships. In other words, a client’s ‘need’ for pattern books was reinforced by discourses around building standards and taste-cum-fashion located within the pattern books themselves. As well, the authors of church pattern books tended to withhold just enough information in the illustrations in order to remain indispensable to future clients. Because experienced builders were able to copy pattern book designs, architects were quick to mention that builders did not posses the social access to taste inherent in the architectural profession.64 Thus, church pattern books fed into the commerce of knowledge and taste that both attempted to alleviate and yet often reinforced social disadvantage. The encyclopaedic volumes were used in state-sanctioned architectural education. Architects recognised the need for professionalization and the necessity of education in that regard, and a national school of architecture was mandated.65 In 1891, the Ontario Architectural Association considered building a curriculum that involved a series of well-  37 respected British architectural books including John Henry Parker’s Introduction of Gothic Architecture, Matthew Bloxam’s Gothic Architecture, Thomas Rickman’s Gothic Architecture, and James Fergusson’s History of Architecture.66 The same magazine article listed books recommended by the Quebec Architectural Association that included Gwilt’s Encyclopaedia of Architecture (1888 ed.), Fergusson’s History of Architecture and Handbook of Architecture, and Raphael Brandon’s Analysis of Gothic Architecture. In argument for professionalized training of new architects in Ontario and Quebec, the article noted: if the public insist on employing men calling themselves architects, but who put up buildings bad in plan, construction, and appearance, then the trained architects, as citizens, should insist upon it that such work is detrimental to the public taste…[italics mine].67 Missing from the ranks of the selected volumes were the large-format illustrated books, omitted on account of their marketing of visual imagery. Nevertheless, these books had broader appeal and influenced church design more deeply as a result. An article dated 1889 in the Canadian Architect and Builder entitled “The Influence of the Modern Christian Church Upon the Ecclesiastical Architecture of the Dominion” by Robert M. Fripp noted the dangerous connection between taste and church architecture in relation to the instrumentality of knowledge. To that end, the article included the following caution: …all denominations in the Dominion share guilt in making poor church architecture which is ‘history in stone of a nation’ … Perishable as most of our modern buildings are, they will endure long enough to exercise a baneful influence on the habits of taste that do duty with most people for education or cultivated taste. Future students of architecture in Canada will be influenced by the junk we build today[italics mine].68 Contemporaries recognised the relationship between knowledge, production, fashion, and commerce. Books that marketed taste held a common trait in that their authors tried to  38 diminish stylistic differences by implementing a uniform way of building Neo-Gothic churches. At the same time they attempted to discredit the mobility of builders and contractors. They included brief historical narratives in the opening section of the pattern books to discredit builders, to suppress clients’ wishes to the taste of the architect, and to appear to offer the knowledge presented in the encyclopaedic books. Proof that the pattern books actually fuelled the public’s sense of legitimate architectural taste was the increase in adjudicating commissions populated by businessmen instead of architects. Businessmen sitting on church-building committees likely did not understand the architectural merits of a particular design and they could be swayed by the Picturesque presentation drawings that resembled the pages familiar in pattern books. The attractiveness of the illustrations in the pattern books had a great impact on both professional and non-professional readers. So long as the images were well illustrated, readerships did not seem to mind that lithography had replaced original drawings. Thus, a growing segment of the Anglican Communion was persuaded to support the construction of more complex and expensive churches based on the attractiveness of pattern book illustrations. The structural and architectural analyses in the pattern books eventually diminished. An interesting comparative appears between the plain economic drawing style in Charles Dwyer’s The Economy of Church, Parsonage, and School Architecture (1856) and Henry Hudson Holly’s picturesque drawings in Church Architecture (1871) noting the structural similarities in the tower designs (figs. 2.9, 2.10, 2.11). Dwyer’s simplified line drawings that represented two-dimensional elevations of churches did not seem to confirm the reality experienced in the depth of space illustrated in Truefitt’s or Holly’s perspective renderings. Where Dwyer’s drawings  39 appear insipidly instructional, Truefitt’s and Holly’s appear experiential. Nevertheless, neither book dealt in any meaningful way with architecture’s influence on social patterns, even though the public’s interest in social evolution was well underway in 1859 with Charles Darwin’s publication of Origin of the Species (priced at 15 shillings). Church pattern books produced after the 1840s were not expensive, bound editions of etchings. Consumers did not confuse pattern books with ‘fine art’. The production of pattern books after the 1840s became dominated by cheaper lithographed books that only appeared to contain hand-pulled etchings (sometimes blatantly advertised as such). Most of the pattern books used the nostalgia for etched prints as a means for marketing the latest architectural fashions. The production process of the pattern books, which relied upon greater print-runs to be economical, verified Walter Benjamin’s perception that exhibition value of reproductions replaced the mystifying experience of an original work of art. The danger to society according to Benjamin in the 1930s – and the pattern books were one example – was that the image’s ability to communicate social truths was encumbered by economy.69 As such, the visual imagery in the pattern books tended to market architectural fashion and counter-balance the verbal imagery in the books that predicted and promoted the longevity of the Gothic Revival. For this reason, George Truefitt’s book Sketches on the Continent (1847) advertised its lithographed pages as etched illustrations, going so far as to imprint a bevelled edge upon individual pages in order to create the appearance of copper plate etching. Consumers of Truefitt’s book were not misled into believing they owned a symbol of conspicuous consumption because the book was priced at £3. By contrast, Frederick Withers’ book Church Architecture (1873), which sold for a $12 US dollars new and $1 used. Withers’ book  40 used photo-lithography to keep the book relatively inexpensive and to associate himself with ‘improved’ technologies of production.70 Photo-lithographs drew attention to the books’ scientific character but also staged the books’ dependency on the transience of fashion. Though cheaply produced, the pattern books rarely appeared to offer poor quality designs, and readers tended to believe they were buying valuable knowledge. Printing from steel plates became a cheaper and more rapid form of production than copper plates, which wore out after three-hundred copies. Subsequently, the advancements in lithography technique retained the appearance of the artist’s hand, making the images appear as authentic as though they were produced from a copper plate.71 Despite the pattern books’ general entry into a new and growing consumer culture, the readers fell into categories that corresponded to the books’ productions. Architects kept pattern books in their libraries as reference material and used the books to train apprentices. Builders read pattern books when they were commissioned to build churches, particularly in rural places where the services of an architect were unavailable. Clergymen read pattern books to stay informed about developments in church architecture, especially when they were considering building or renovating a church. Architecture enthusiasts and other members of the general public read pattern books to gain knowledge of architectural styles, architectural history, and to own images of British and European buildings in lieu of, or in anticipation of, Occidental travel. Although the pattern books were consumed at a level that matched their production, and the construction of new churches, readers in the Dominion did not demand domestically produced pattern books. Even when the first pattern book was produced in Canada, no one appeared to notice its poor aesthetic quality. This book,  41 actually a pamphlet, entitled Designs for Village, Town and City Churches (1893), was produced by the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Canada. It is a useful diagnostic device measuring the British cultural values and the effects of the U.S. hegemony on the Canadian situation (discussed in detail in Chapter 3). 2.2  Economy and Religion in Church-Building in the Maritimes and Lower Canada Before 1867 The close relation between religion, new commercial practices, and politics was  articulated by the politician, newspaper editor, and advocate of Methodism George Brown when he proclaimed a: scheme to establish a government that will seek to turn the tide of European emigration into this northern half of the American continent – that will strive to develop its great natural resources – and that will endeavour to maintain liberty, and justice, and Christianity throughout the land.72 As Brown remarked, church-building was envisioned as an important part of the forming society on par with economy, freedom, and progress. Church pattern books drew these factors together in the constitution of modern lifestyle and collective identity because the books marketed church-building, and particularly the Gothic Revival, as a legitimate and viable solution to social problems. Church-building was a social, economic, cultural, and political act that involved the patterns of public taste. In the Maritimes and in Englishspeaking parts of Quebec, British cultural privilege underlay the churches built by Anglicans. Indeed, contemporary Anglican identities in the Maritimes were wrapped determinedly in a British aesthetic and ideological ‘packaging’, a metaphor likened to the oil-cloths protecting book shipments that routinely crossed the Atlantic. In the Maritimes and in English-speaking parts of Quebec, British cultural privilege underlay the churches built by Anglicans. Indeed, contemporary Anglican identities in the Maritimes were wrapped determinedly in a British aesthetic and ideological ‘packaging’, a metaphor  42 likened to the oil-cloths protecting book shipments that routinely crossed the Atlantic. The particular power of the pattern books was that they resonated with church-builders of all denominations even though individual books were written with particular sects in mind.73 During the middle decades of the nineteenth century, church-building enterprise and the forming society reflected the interchange between the sacred and the secular.74 Indeed, the term that described British North America as a ‘Dominion’ had a religious connotation. It was the suggestion of Samuel Tilley of Saint John, New Brunswick, a businessman turned politician, who brought to bear his passion for religion and economy by noting that Psalm 72:8 stated, “His dominion shall be also from sea to sea”. In essence, the Dominion of Canada was envisioned as a land of resources to be developed for profit with the sanction of Christian religion even if a vast majority of its population comprised Christians who rejected greed.75 But, religion sanctioned the judicious development of God-given resources. Thus, it was no coincidence that the working classes employed in lumber, shipbuilding, and shipping industries in the Maritimes were churchgoing folk. A particular example of religion’s permeation of economy and politics was that businessmen and political dignitaries christened new ships with Divine and Royal blessings at ceremonies where workers were given the day off. The interchange between spiritual and secular mindsets occurred in line with a corresponding belief that ‘progress’ was expressed in economic and moral-cum-religious discourses.76 Settlers validated their endeavours and sacrifices through language and imagery borrowed from the Bible. For instance, the novella A Home in the Northwest (1903) –discussed in chapter IV of this thesis – demonstrates the point that settlers to  43 Canada needed churches to complete domestic living, or at least that certain writers wanted the public to believe it was the case. Thus, the political moments that included the Union of Upper and Lower Canada (1840) and official Confederation (1867) appeared also to be constituted as triumphs of Christian character and values. With the focus upon regionalism in the Canadian situation, local debates about architectural aesthetics took on new meaning. New debates occurred over the way churches should look and these were constituted in commercial practice; that is, the variety of visual imagery available to church-builders happened in the Dominion largely through importing pattern books, prints, and magazines. British and U.S. print media distributed social attitudes and cultural values that were shot through with debates concerning church aesthetics. The debates also reflected the multifarious communal identities forming across the Dominion between 1867 and 1914, especially exemplified by interdenominational rivalries that took on an architectural mode. The debates about the way churches should look were amplified by the pattern books written for Anglican audiences coming into the hands of other denominations including Methodists and Roman Catholics. Methodists and Roman Catholics were looking at church pattern books because their numbers were growing. The Anglican Church in Canada responded with a xenophobic belief that the growth of other denominations amounted to a crisis.77 Thus, the syndication of Anglican power around synods in the 1860s, as expressions of self-governance, was a sharp check against the rise of Methodism. For this reason, the consolidation of Anglican power at the diocesan level re-emphasized the colonial bishops’ power to determine the way their churches should look. Church-building committees were obligated to defer to the tastes of their bishop.  44 These bishops, as will be demonstrated, developed a large portion of their architectural knowledge from books, magazines, and periodical journals. The economy was inevitably part of the operations that constituted society A complex economic field characterized church-building in the Maritimes and Lower Canada. This field included procedures of state power, missionary activity, selfimprovement, and collective versus individual identity. The term for a church as the ‘House of God’ implied the religious and social mechanisms of production and reproduction because houses are both economic and social investments. A church building was anticipated to accrue to future generations of worshippers until such time that the edifice ceased to function appropriately.78 The ideology, and identity, in printed legislation and in journals of architectural criticism that influenced church-building were sustained by the larger economic, religious, and cultural apparatus. Economy and print reproduction combined in pattern books of churches to create a textural surface of concentrated settlement, consecrated under the auspices of religious and secular governments. Taken together the pattern books presented a deliberate attempt to order patterns of public taste through economy and this affected not only architecture but also the deployment of religion. In the emergent commercial society, patterns of public taste in church-building found new meaning in the old ideology that stated religion improved society. But, these social improvements, like church-building, needed money to finance them. The idea of national progress as the sum of individual industry and uprightness was expressed in an advertisement for the self-help book entitled Dollars and Sense (1895) written by a “leading expert on business and advertising”. It focused on the progress of economy  45 through the success of the individual.79 Consequently, religious institution re-focused initiatives on the spiritual growth of each living soul and this profoundly affected the Anglican Church. The situation put pressure on liturgical practice that had traditionally isolated the High Anglican clergy behind choir screens; individual congregants were able to see salvation but not partake of it in this life. Under the new social conditions personal development became associated with the overall social, and even religious, fabric. The money used to build churches was a visible manifestation of collective and individual values but it also contributed to the tensions between individual and collective interests. Collective groups often formed in opposition to the architectural aspirations of individual patrons when groups objected to the church being used to satisfy the wants of a wealthy congregant. On a broader scale in Montreal, for instance, wealthier merchant classes who benefited from the Maritime shipbuilding and shipping industries generated local economies capable of supporting larger religious architectural projects. Indeed, Montreal’s Anglican community took pride in the scale of its cathedral, Christ Church (203 ft. length), which was large by colonial standards and thirty percent longer than Christ Church, Fredericton, New Brunswick.80 More data and analysis will appear on the cathedrals in New Brunswick, Newfoundland, and Montreal in the case studies ahead. The significant amount of individual and group wealth expended on churchbuilding in the Maritimes, despite its relatively rural economies in the mid-nineteenth century, was directly proportional to economy’s legitimization of religious practices.81 The construction of cathedrals in New Brunswick and Newfoundland, where wood churches were the norm, illustrates small pockets of wealth in ‘resource’ economies that were also a significant part of the developing negotiations around Confederation. Because  46 the shipbuilding, shipping, and fishing industries produced isolated pockets of individual wealth unevenly disbursed among relatively poor populations, the industries themselves were significant components of the overall picture of the developing Dominion. This was particularly the case with Newfoundland, which was not an official partner in Confederation until 1949 though its trade continued to impact the overall Canadian picture. Building a new church can be regarded as a microcosm of organizing a new society in much the same way that a church’s congregation constituted a ‘mini’ social economy. Within the church-building and related social formation processes, taste was an instrument that legitimized wealth, power, prestige, and privilege. Accordingly, the operations of the emergent Confederated nation and the management of modern business appeared associated with religion, not the least because of decisions to abolish commerce on the Sabbath. More precisely, church-building committees for the more affluent construction projects were generally composed of wealthy merchants, politicians, and high-ranking civil servants as well as building practitioners who were also respected members of the congregation. The connection between religious and secular interests was given architectural expression by a leading British architect, George Edmund Street (1824-81) who remarked, “it is unhappy that [the revival of gothic architecture] should ever wish to divorce religious and secular art; as if religion were a thing for Sundays only, and not for every moment of every life…”82 Street had articulated the tensions between religious and secular lifestyles that were constituted in new commercial society.83 To that end, a reciprocal marketing relationship connected church pattern books and church-building with everyday social and commercial structure.84  47 The social respectability of religion in the Maritime context was chiefly assisted by Anglican missionaries and colonial bishops who were under orders to win souls by building churches in remote communities. The dioceses in Britain and the Dominion rarely balked at the considerable expense of such initiatives, believing in their moral and spiritual responsibility. These bishops and missionaries came prepared to do the business of expanding the Church particularly by converting the aboriginal population and ministering to immigrant settlers. Church-building was a necessary step in the achievement of this goal so several bishops, including John Medley of Fredericton New Brunswick, had looked at church patterns before they left England and others sent for books and church plans by mail. By forging ahead with church-building, a suite of Maritime bishops of the Anglican Church changed the pattern of ecclesiastical architecture in those colonial provinces. For instance, Bishop Medley spread the knowledge of church-building that was marketed by the plans, sections, elevations, perspective drawings, and related discourses found in the pattern books that included the Ecclesiological principles advocated by the Cambridge Camden (later Ecclesiological) Society. Bishop Medley was the first to sanction a model/copy relationship for a NeoGothic cathedral in Canada, as will be seen in the case study on Christ Church Cathedral in Fredericton, New Brunswick presented later in this chapter. The bishops travelled by boat to remote areas of the Maritimes to encourage the construction of a network of churches. However, there were disappointing initial results. The small number of Anglican clergy in the Maritimes was ill equipped to service the vast and remote geographical area.85 Nevertheless, the bishops and missionaries pressed on because religious faith tended to resist economic realities. For this reason, remote  48 communities built churches without having been appointed a clergyman. In short, the belief in social progress rallied church-builders in the Maritime colonies despite economic realities to the contrary. Despite the complicated nature of the situation, some of these communities forged ahead with the construction of churches on the assumption that a ‘proper’ Neo-Gothic building would help attract a larger congregation and a permanent minister. 2.2.1 Religious Politics of Church Pattern Books On both an individual and group level, consumer society constantly renewed production and consumption in order to drive the economy – and modern lifestyle – forward. Church pattern books showed how taste was an instrument that not only legitimized group and individual wealth, power, and privilege but also appeared to move society forward toward so-called ‘perfection’.86 The cultivated values associated with taste marked the stakes of social advantage, belonging, and group respectability as well as exclusion.87 Dominant groups and individuals benefited from ‘enforcing’ a connection between taste and the enduring, permanent aspects of antiquity.88 In this sense, illustrated print-based books of church architecture strengthened history’s deployment as a stabilizing force on modernity even though history was treated, like taste, as a commodity. The pattern books both purveyed an enduring sense of taste as well as acted as ciphers of the new transience of the economy linking architecture with the latest building fashions. Taste was both an expression of individualized character and a reflection of group identity. Taste had complicated modes of operation particular to it, which were evident in the production and consumption of the pattern books. The architectural aspirations of  49 bishops were moderated by the prevailing public taste in church design, in no small part due to the distribution of a variety of church illustrations. At the same time pattern book authors, who were also architects themselves, tried to use taste to control the aesthetic aspirations of bishops and church-building committees. Using taste to legitimize an architect’s disposition towards a client was “a trade in things that have no price…can only work by pretending not to be doing what they are doing.”89 A ‘commerce of taste’ enabled the appropriation and exploitation of medieval aesthetics and planning conceptualized in the pattern books as enduring and permanent.90 A new social order was particularly apparent in the development of a ‘modern’ Dominion, despite its deep roots in British tradition, history, and values. New commercial and consumption practices occurred in the Maritimes and in Montreal, constituting new social identities. Britain had already experienced a so-called transformation into ‘modern’ society brought to the fore as much by economy as by technology. Goods, social veneers, and lifestyles that characterized modernity re-made the substance of everyday life in these expanding settlements.91 Public taste reflected the social norms into which people were socialized because taste was part of the social structures in which people developed a sense of their social positions. Bourdieu’s conceptualization of ‘habitus’, as indicated was a system of classificatory rules, habits, and customs that dispose people to certain preferences.92 ‘Habitus’ was a learned and embodied expression of the role that consumption played in reproducing the social order. The result of marketing taste in the public domain, especially in print media, conflated the transience of fashion with the enduring and permanent aspects of taste.  50 Taste-cum-fashion became a ‘great leveller’ in colonial society because of increased access to money and goods, formerly associated with Old-World landed gentry. Pattern book author Rev. George Bowler expressed concern over the transience of public taste: We do not claim a greater knowledge, - more perfect taste, - better judgement or superior professional skill, to our compeers… . Having made the science of Building a study of some years before entering the ministry, we had gained some knowledge of the principles of correct taste in constructing the different styles of private and public buildings, and in common with others we could not fail to notice the great want of taste and skill which is so fully manifest in every village and hamlet throughout the land [italics mine].93 Bowler also expressed the desire of most architects and pattern book authors who wanted to pacify their clients’ opinions and distance themselves from builders, as such: It will never do to trust the matter to the taste and skill of your builder, for there are very few of those who call themselves practical men and practical carpenters who are competent to design with taste and skill, and to combine all the details of an edifice in the best manner, and in right proportions…94 The discourses around professionalization and claims of taste were more plainly stated in a book of compiled designs by some of the leading U.S. architects of the day, entitled A Book of Plans for Churches and Parsonages (1853): There are…those of the plane and the saw who also have an eye for architecture as an art, and such men often build very unexceptional structures. But the majority of carpenters have hardly more sense of what is really involved in Architecture, than is needful to the building of a barn.95 Trade and the marketing of goods increased as a result of increased populations, much of which occurred within the developing urban areas. In the Dominion, pattern books that were intended to promote an ‘elite’ social advantage actually provided everyone with the same access to taste, or at least with its claims. The claims were related to the old ideas of value and history as an instrumental force. Thus, the ecclesiastical  51 journal The Church engaged in commercialized taste by printing the following account of a new Anglican church in Ontario: It was only the other day that a kind friend drove us out in his carriage from Hamilton to see, for the first time, the little Barton church, which is a perfect gem in its way – the model, indeed, for country churches. The architectural correctness of this pretty edifice is due to the good taste of the late incumbent, the Rev. R.N. Merritt… He was happy in the choice of his architect, Mr. Frank Wills, a gentleman who, we have every reason to believe, is imbued with the religious spirit of his noble profession, as every church architect ought to be. In carrying out the plans furnished by Mr. Wills, Mr. Merritt’s own appreciation of genuine Church architecture and good taste were of service to him. The result has been the erection of a building which affects you with a pleasing interest the moment the eye rests on it; and simple village-church as it is, fills the mind, immediately on entering it, with a quiet and solemn sense of God’s presence. We have never entered a church in Canada where the effect of softened light and internal arrangements was so instantaneous and so complete in exciting devotional impressions.96 This account was typical of the exclusivity that Anglicans, and others, attached to taste, which was a socio-economic ‘invention’ that people believed. More widely available and cheaply produced pattern books meant greater public access to visual material and to a new ‘commerce of taste’. However, the increased public access to visual material associated with commercially-based taste did not deliver on the books’ promises to elevate the status of the masses. Instead, broad public participation in a ‘commerce of taste’ lowered the status of taste by its associations with fashion, which challenged and eroded the ‘traditional’ sacrosanct social distinctions. As a result, the Dominion’s church-builders used pattern books in ways unanticipated by the books’ authors. One effect of the publication of church pattern books was the commodification of taste. The publication of church pattern books, that included churches reproduced in twodimensional format, contributed to the dispersal of the aura associated with the ‘real’  52 gothic church. But, of course, Victorian churches were a substitution, and repetition, of a false image for a previous ‘real’ one: the medieval church. Despite efforts to create authenticity around the Gothic Revival the pattern books actually reinforced the shadowy semblance of the simulacra. It was a temporal impossibility to build medieval churches in the nineteenth century and so the pattern books actually marketed the taste for authenticity. Even taste, itself, was susceptible to shifts in the public perception. The historian Dell Upton has argued that taste experienced a shift from being a fixed entity in the eighteenth century to becoming associated with social claims in the nineteenth century. His examination of house pattern books produced in the U.S. showed that after the 1830s taste, in and of itself, was not enough for architects to mollify their clients whose judgement was subordinated to the architect’s guidance.97 Architects needed to ‘invent’ design principles to be attached to taste in order to retain some control over their emerging professions. At the same time, pattern books advertised that taste could be learned from books, though authors who were also architects added the stipulation that taste was an inherent quality in architects. Despite Upton’s argument that U.S. architects used taste as a commodity in the professionalization of American architectural practice, the visual and textual data found in church pattern books before and after 1830 suggest that taste was never a fixed commodity but one always associated with changeable power structures. Upton also claimed that pattern book writers were unwilling to claim openly that taste was linked to status, but research into church pattern books suggests that the link was common knowledge; and, to state taste’s link with social status was redundant. What is important is that publication of architectural principles in church pattern books  53 meant publishing the discourse around taste. The promotion of taste in association with Neo-Gothic church imagery commodified both taste and the church imagery. Commercialized taste was a component in the identity-making process associated with church-building in the decades after official Confederation. The complex conditions of consumption, as identified in Consumer Culture and Modernity (1997), were egocentric, un-related to needs, and deeply involved in individual receptions. Consumers were, thus, boundless, fluid matrices of ‘libidinal economies’ that modified, transgressed and re-interpreted the social order.98 Church pattern books were commercial objects that involved modern print techniques and distribution channels in the construction and proliferation of religious values in society. Anglicans claiming social privilege justified their belief systems by arguing their superior taste. They normalized the unequal power relations emanating from taste that contemporaries accepted as legitimate and were, thus, embedded in classifications that described everyday life.99 Concurrent with Fergusson’s commercialization of knowledge, Charles Eastlake’s book Hints on Household Taste (1868, re-printed 1869, 1872, 1878) showed how taste was consolidated around modern lifestyle such that he unselfconsciously coupled a ‘commerce of taste’ with the growth of arts manufacture, including architecture: The faculty of distinguishing good from bad design in the familiar objects of domestic life is a faculty which most educated people – and women especially – conceive that they possess… that, while a young lady is devoting at school, or under a governess so many hours a day to music, so many to languages and so many to general science, she is all this time unconsciously forming that sense of the beautiful, which we call taste… to form a correct estimate of the merits of artmanufacture… .We may condemn a lady’s opinion on politics – criticise her handwriting – correct her pronunciation of Latin, and disparage her favourite author with a chance of escaping displeasure. But if we venture to question her taste – in the most ordinary sense of the word, we are sure to offend.100  54  Eastlake complained that the transience of fashion, which he associated with ‘feminine’ domestic space, had infringed upon the enduring taste associated with ‘masculine’ church architecture. But, his complaints were actually indications of what was common practice in the public arena; that is, taste and fashion converged at the point of economy. 2.3  The Establishment of New Anglican Dioceses in St. John, New Brunswick; St. John’s, Newfoundland; and, Montreal, Quebec before 1867 Confederation Anglican church-building enterprise in the Maritimes before Confederation  presented itself as a viable and visible option for propagating the established Church’s social and religious dominance. However, the Anglican identity in the Maritimes, and in Montreal, formed around a self-described ‘crisis’ that resulted from the continued rise in the numbers of Methodists and Roman Catholics.101 When Bishop Feild arrived in Newfoundland in 1846 he found the population in St. John’s predominantly Roman Catholic: 4226 Anglicans versus 18986 Roman Catholics. The Roman Catholics had already built a substantial Basilica that dominated the city skyline.102 That ‘crisis’ persisted until 1857 when the next census recorded the growth of the Anglican Communion in Newfoundland in numbers amounting to 44,285, which nearly equally the Roman Catholic population of 56,895.103 Determined to compete, Bishop Feild resolved to build an Anglican cathedral in St. John’s to counter the ‘Hiberno Romanist’ crisis in the Maritimes, whether or not his diocese could immediately afford it. Ecclesiological principles in architecture appeared to be transmitted to the colonies to deal with the so-called crisis. The appointment of Edward Feild to Newfoundland was actually the third of three new bishopric positions filled in the 1840s  55 by architecturally and Ecclesiologically minded men. Their appointments marked the interface of the force of religious institution, a ‘commerce of taste’, and politics, especially evident in the manner of new cathedrals erected by the individual bishops. The transatlantic transmission of architectural taste-cum-fashion was exposed particularly by the way in which each of the bishops requested drawings and pattern book illustrations from British architectural and ecclesiastical associations, such as the Oxford Architectural Society and the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts.104 The appointment of these bishops marked the established Church’s expansion of operations in the Maritime colonies and Lower Canada. Newfoundland was an important part of the overall architectural and commercial picture of the Dominion though it had not become a political player in the negotiations around Confederation until well into the twentieth century. The expansion of the established Church in the Dominion responded to waves of Catholic and dissenter immigration as well as the concern toward a growing atheism in secular society.105 Building Anglican cathedrals and churches in the colonies was anticipated to provide a visible expression of an attenuated social dominance enjoyed by groups of Anglicans. Anglicans used architecture to express and re-assert their influence over the formation of society, even if the membership of the established Church did not command a majority of the Dominion’s population.106 Bishops Medley, Fulford, and Feild ascended to diocesan power amid the colonies’ systematic economic affairs that were also punctuated by moments of political and cultural tension.107 The Church of England recognised that its political and social privilege in the Dominion was at stake. Christ Church, Fredericton, New Brunswick (1845) (fig. 2.12), St. John the Baptist, St. John’s,  56 Newfoundland (1847), and Christ Church, Montreal, (1856) (fig. 2.13) were the visible result of the established Church’s economic and social strategies. These bishops brought significant social reform and architectural fashion to bear on their respective colonial posts and church-building schemes. At the same time, the bishops contended with other denominations’ church-building initiatives, which represented serious religious and social contestations. Anglican groups in particular, though by no means exclusively, used architectural taste to reinforce their claim to superiority in the community. Despite their use of the latest architectural fashions, they continued to link taste with social privilege. The relative ease by which British-inspired social structures were visibly repeated in the Dominion’s architecture was reflected in immigration patterns of architects, clergy, and architecture enthusiasts. In the Dominion, and especially in the Maritimes and English-speaking parts of Montreal, the repetition of British social structures and cultural attitudes helped the Cambridge Camden (later, Ecclesiological) Society become a major influence on the colonial development of Ecclesiology. The Society disseminated its objectives and especially its architectural beliefs in print by offering advice to architects and church-building committees. The Society accomplished the distribution of its ideas through a series of pamphlets, an architectural church pattern book, and a quarterly journal called the Ecclesiologist (1841-68). Anglican readers of the Ecclesiologist in the Dominion connected the ‘correct’ antiquarian source with the Society’s Christian morals.108 The apparent permanence of medieval buildings legitimized Anglican claims of superior architectural taste that, in turn, reinforced Anglican self-identification as dominant in colonial society’s formation. Church-building was a communal activity  57 heavily involved in the process of identity-making, which chiefly involved classifying one’s own group through its dispositions toward other denominations’ churches. Thus, church-building bred intra-denominational unity while also stirring social tensions within an economically and geo-politically expanding nation-state. At stake was the crafting of a ‘national’ identity for the emerging Dominion. What ought the Dominion look like and whose social rules would prevail in it? Discourse analysis shows that the equation of privilege and social dominance was complicated because socially and economically dominant Anglican groups in the Dominion did not always welcome the use of Gothic by other religious denominations. Winning the souls of new immigrants to the Dominion, as well as their economic support, was a serious business and colonial Anglican bishops complained vehemently when non-Anglicans appeared to gain ground. The 1851 census of Lower Canada reported the Roman Catholics only slightly ahead of Protestant churchbuilders, the former having built 385 churches versus 275 for the latter. Though the Anglican Communion perceived itself pre-eminent, the Dominion’s democratic society encouraged other denominations to express architectural choice and variety within the general confines of a Neo-Gothic grammar. The local debates about the way churches should look and the variations of Neo-Gothic in pattern books were shot through with the question about whether aesthetic variety was equated with taste or fashion. The politics of pattern books presented a unified look for Anglican churches, but a variety of church designs ensued across the Maritimes and Lower Canada (not to mention British North America) partly in response to the variety of church designs exemplified in the variations of ‘styles’ in pattern books. In essence, local debates about the way churches should look were a microcosm for the larger negotiations over the way  58 the formation of the nation should unfold. The debates about the variety of Neo-Gothic were not only local but also reflected transatlantic political tensions. Britain negotiated land settlements with the U.S. by directing the Dominion in ways that were not always beneficial to the colony.109 The dispute over logging the Columbia basin, in an area between New Brunswick and Maine, was indirectly related to church-building and pattern books because timber was the chief material component of each product. 2.3.1 Case Study: Fredericton Cathedral and St. Anne’s Chapel Bishop Medley’s cathedral in Fredericton was both an imperial and an Anglican architectural statement in its adoption of British Ecclesiology. The association between the Bishop of New Brunswick and his architect, Frank Wills (1822-57) (later replaced by William Butterfield) was a decidedly British affair in the Canadas that reflected the Maritime’s moderate and Loyalist politics.110 Cultural affinity with Britain was expressed architecturally when the fourteenth-century fabric of St. Mary’s, Snettisham, Norfolk, England was chosen as the model for the Fredericton Cathedral.111 Bishop Medley and Frank Wills had left England together with the plans for the new cathedral packed away in their baggage. The flowing window tracery in the west window of Fredericton cathedral is a recreation of the stone tracery in the west window at Snettisham. The decision to use Snettisham as the model was initiated by the Right Rev. Bishop Coleridge of Exeter, who presided over Bishop Medley’s consecration and handed over a cheque in the amount of £1,500.112 Snettisham’s church was not the only model for Fredericton’s cathedral. In December 1844, Bishop Medley had written to the OAS asking if St. Mary’s church in  59 Shottesbrooke, Berkshire (fig. 2.14) would “be a good model for a small cathedral?”113 He had heard that “Shottesbrooke church is published by the Society [and] if so I should be greatly obliged if that could be among the number” of books to be shipped to New Brunswick.114 Medley received the shipment of books on or before February 26, 1845.115 He had heard of Shottesbrooke through ‘word of mouth’ from the architect Thomas Rickman.116 Shottesbrooke was a cruciform fourteenth-century church that had undergone extensive restoration in 1844 by British architect William Butterfield. Butterfield had produced a set of drawings based on his restoration that were published by the OAS.117 The layout of Shottesbrooke included north and south double-bay transept arms and a three-bay chancel in the east end. Wills’ perspective drawing for Fredericton shows a similar cruciform plan, though cruciform churches ran counter to architectural tradition in New Brunswick. Clearly Bishop Medley and his architect, Frank Wills, envisioned a cruciform plan for the cathedral, although congregants following the slow progress of construction would not likely have imagined the same. In the spirit of interchange, Bishop Medley also asked for models from the Ecclesiological Society, claiming that “[t]hey might also aid me much by small plain wooden models for wooden churches in the country.”118 Asking after models of wooden churches was a concession to the unwanted expense of an architect in rural economies. But more importantly, the ‘conversations’ between different architecture pattern books sent by rival British architectural societies would have solicited much debate about the way churches should look in the Maritimes. The books’ initiation of aesthetic debates was a metaphor for the debates around geo-political unification in the Dominion.  60 Notwithstanding a British/colonial transatlantic push toward federation for the Canadas beginning around the mid-1850s, some sectors of New Brunswick, for instance, remained stringently opposed to Confederation during the Tilley government’s term.119 Local economic interests, like those in New Brunswick, weighed heavily on political federation negotiations just as the opportunistic way pattern books were used in the colonies subtly adjusted the Anglican politics in church pattern books. In November 1848, the journal of the Cambridge Camden (later Ecclesiological) Society reported “favourable accounts of the progress of Fredericton cathedral”, the new seat of the Anglican bishop, John Medley.120 Fredericton’s positive attention from the Ecclesiologist was somewhat unusual. Canadian church-building factored rarely into the journal’s approximate ten-year long coverage of colonial church architecture, but Fredericton’s cathedral was mentioned on at least four occasions. Churches in the Empire’s more prominent colonial holdings were more notably covered in the Ecclesiologist.121 Fredericton’s cathedral likely appeared in the Ecclesiologist because it was the first architecturally ‘correct’ Anglican cathedral established in the Canadas, reflected in the scale of the proposed cathedral. Bishop Medley’s architectural experience was not slight, having founded the Exeter diocesan Architectural Society in 1841. It was a kindred spirit to the Cambridge Camden (later Ecclesiological) Society, a group for which he was a member. On 14 December 1844, John Medley communicated with the Oxford Architectural Society (OAS, formerly the Oxford Society for Promoting the Study of Gothic Architecture) asking, “to take out a stock of architectural books and drawings” that the Society deems useful.122 The OAS “agreed to give a set of the Society’s publications to the Bishop Elect of New Brunswick.”123 Bishop Medley  61 responded by letter with his thanks for the architectural books and made a further request for some decorated tiles “for a new chapel I am building.”124 In 1857, he gave a lecture on ‘Good Taste’ to the Church of England Young Men’s Society in St. John, in which he remarked: In our household arrangements, in our dress, in the social festivities, we shall eschew the extremes of extravagance and meanness, and look upon all things, great and small, as given us that we may discharge the duties belonging to them in the best possible manner…Thus, while we carefully guard the sacred deposit of truth from all adulteration, and found our religion strictly and soberly on God’s most holy word, good taste will preserve that religion from sourness and selfcomplacency, and will make it gracious and acceptable to all who have sufficient candour to appreciate our intentions, and generally useful to the world.125 Strategically equating ‘truth’ with ‘good taste’, Bishop Medley also adopted a medieval model for Christ Church Fredericton in order to avoid the ‘extremes of extravagance and meanness’. Indeed, ecclesiology equated beauty with economy, truth, and taste. For instance, the New York Ecclesiologist (1848-53) expressed the matter succinctly: “beauty and economy will be the result of our working upon true principles.”126 Architect Frank Wills was a founding member of the New York Ecclesiological Society, which introduced the ‘new’ mode of Neo-Gothic to the U.S. Fifteen hundred copies of its inaugural edition were printed and given gratis in the prospect of developing a readership. Wills understood a “commerce of taste” implicitly. In an article for the second instalment of the New York Ecclesiologist he wrote: Finery, everywhere, takes the place of dignity; and if, by accident, anything is good at first, it is afterward spoiled by a Committee of Taste, who stick a little lump of unmeaning putty here, and a dab of the same convenient material there; and, in the end, to quote the language of a friend, “more is expended to make the Church look fine, than would have been sufficient to make it beautiful.”127  62 References to taste considered, the decision to model Fredericton Cathedral on St. Mary’s, Snettisham, still proved unexpectedly controversial for Bishop Medley. The Ecclesiological Society objected to modelling a cathedral on Snettisham’s parochial church design. To the sensibilities of the Society, the architect Frank Wills’ plan to have a lower chancel roofline than that of the nave was particularly unsuited to the grandeur warranted by a cathedral. Could Bishop Medley have left neglected a fundamental ‘building principle’ of ecclesiology that stated cathedral rooflines were uniform across the nave and chancel? Quite the contrary since Medley exhibited historical and architectural knowledge of ecclesiology in his published pamphlet Elementary Remarks on Church Architecture (1841). In essence, economy resolved the differences between the Bishop’s and his architect’s vision for the cathedral; that is, the Bishop knew he need not have worried over a complete structure that he could as yet afford to build.128 Bishop Medley had the time to change components of the cathedral before each was begun. Besides, Bishop Medley had other things to worry about. In New Brunswick, Anglicans were few in number and among them there was distaste for the Bishop’s High Church or Tractarian ideals.129 Resistance to the High Church position was marked among the general populace of New Brunswick. Perhaps Bishop Medley viewed the slow construction process advantageously, giving him time to sway more the local population toward his High Church ideals before the architectural reflection of those ideals became visible in his cathedral. At some point it did become obvious, even to a leading nonconformist, who was heard to observe, “so we went towards Rome.”130 Construction of Bishop Medley’s cathedral began in May 1845 with £3,000 raised from congregants in the Bishop’s new diocese.131 By the following October, the  63 Lieutenant Governor, Sir William Colebrooke laid the cornerstone, attracting local prestige and illustrating the established Church’s imperial connections. The nave and aisles were built by November 1847, which depleted building funds. Frank Wills moved to New York in order to continue his architectural practice there, and Medley returned to England in search of more financing.132 Upon his return form England the diocese’s coffers had grown to £20,000. In his possession was also a new set of drawings by the well-known British architect William Butterfield, which altered the cathedral’s roofline to reflect a form prescribed by the Ecclesiological Society. Though Bishop Medley agreed in principle that the design needed changes, the act of realizing those changes was a complicated affair. Bishop Medley’s address to the Ecclesiological Society at its annual meeting, held on May 9 1848, shows that there was some discrepancy between the new drawings by Butterfield and the private thoughts of the bishop. The bishop described the current dimensions of the nave, noting that construction of the tower and choir were not yet begun. Bishop Medley was careful to specify the size of the choir he anticipated building: A choir, 40 feet in length, with aisles, would be sufficient for our purpose. It remains to be seen how this might be connected with a tower.133 However, the bishop’s private thoughts about the way the cathedral should look deviated from Butterfield’s drawings of the proposed cathedral, which were printed alongside the address to the Ecclesiological Society.134 Butterfield’s illustration of the chancel was clearly not the forty feet length that Bishop Medley anticipated. Furthermore, Butterfield’s drawing explicitly showed how the choir was to be connected to the tower, leaving no question of its arrangement except in the mind of Bishop Medley. The bishop’s verbal address indicated that he did not anticipate using Butterfield’s drawing as  64 presented, knowing that much negotiation about the way the cathedral would look still lay ahead in New Brunswick. What was on the bishop’s mind was the expense and pragmatics of church-building in the colonies, to which he noted: I had thought of two towers, as at Ottery and Exeter, but shall be content with one, if a cathedral-like appearance can be produced at less expense; for I am desirous to do whatever is most thoroughly practical, provided it be correct and church-like.135 The interesting idea about Bishop Medley’s vision of his cathedral was the inclusion of a tower and spire, whose height must be considered against that of the surrounding secular structures as representative of the local social economy. In his address, Bishop Medley criticized the traditional architectural practices of British North America by stating: Both in the United States and in British North America there is a strong feeling in favour of Pointed architecture, though there is little knowledge of the subject, and great difficulties arise from having no positive standard before men’s eyes. It must be expected that many eagerly cling to old forms, however unsightly they may appear to others, and one must honour their feeling, though one cannot admire their taste.”136 Interestingly, the Bishop had to somewhat adjust his own taste to comply with the Ecclesiological Society’s judgement. The next issue of the Ecclesiologist noted that Bishop Medley had modified the design for the tower drawn by Butterfield to give the tower windows “greater simplicity while preserving the general effect.”137 Indeed, by the time the cathedral was completed in 1853 much had changed from Butterfield’s published drawing. The bishop got his choir, which was placed under the crossing tower, and he got a two-bay chancel area much more generously laid out than in Butterfield’s plan – though the chancel was built with a roofline at the height of the nave. Twin north and south vestries adjacent to the chancel replaced Butterfield’s cosy little vestry that  65 would have been complete with its own fireplace. Butterfield’s drawing of the vestry indicated it was essentially a stand-alone structure linked through the south aisle to the main body of the church. The bishop’s image of himself reading by the fire in that vestry must have appeared excessive in light of the freezing winter nights that the poor in Fredericton had to endure. The construction process of Christ Church Cathedral, once again, illustrates the interface of religion, economy, taste, and politics at the theoretical, and actual, point of social formation. Part of the cathedral’s construction involved building a ‘temporary’ chapel to house the congregation. The architecture of the chapel, dedicated St. Anne’s (Frank Wills, 1847138), was inspired by the thirteenth-century fabric of St. Michael’s, Long Stanton, Cambridgeshire (fig. 2.15). St. Michael’s was advocated for emulation in the Empire’s colonies because its simple design, steep roof, low walls, and plain western bell-côte were an inexpensive and manageable way to achieve Ecclesiological principles. Illustrations of Long Stanton were published in Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Parish Churches, or Perspective Views of English Ecclesiastical Structures Accompanied by Plans Drawn to a Uniform Scale (1848) and the same author’s Open Timber Roofs of the Middle Ages (1849).139 Wills designed several such churches in the U.S., which he published in his pattern book Ancient English Ecclesiastical Architecture; and its Principles Applied to the Wants of the Present Day (1850).140 Wills also built a version of St. Michael’s, Long Stanton, for the Anglicans at St. Michael’s in Sillery (1856), outside of Quebec City, which is particularly interesting for its double buttressed western wall echoing the English model (fig. 2.16).141 St. Michael’s, Sillery makes an excellent contrast to the Roman Catholic church of Saint-Michel, Sillery (1852) built to the plans  66 of architect Goodlatte Richardson Browne. The Roman Catholic church has a central western tower partially integrated into the main body of the nave, tall walls, shallow roof, polygonal east end, and vaulted interior using plaster in imitation of the richer stone material. The English-speaking Irish Roman Catholics at Saint-Michel did not follow the same ecclesiological principles of architecture as the English-speaking Anglicans at St. Michael’s. The Roman Catholics intentionally recalled what they considered to be the beauty of Roman gothic architecture; in this case, the source was likely Santa Maria Sopra Minerva in Rome (1280-1370). By contrast, the Anglicans believed in superiority of the constructed ‘truthfulness’ of ecclesiological architecture. The cultural differences reflected in these distinct positions on architecture exemplified the interdenominational divisiveness that continued for the next fifty years. Bishop Medley referred to the decoration of St. Anne’s chapel in the most fashionable terms, noting imported stained glass produced by the companies of Beer and of Warrington, with floor tiles were a gift of Minton’s, a porcelain manufacturer and distributor of international reputation. Bishop Medley had published a pamphlet on church architecture entitled, “Elementary Remarks on Church Architecture” (1841). That the Bishop believed himself possessed of architectural knowledge gave credence to his blunt remark to a leading parishioner, “Mr. R., when you build a church, build a church, and when you build a barn build a barn.”142 Despite the added expense of building the chapel with hammer-dressed grey sandstone, Bishop Medley especially noted that the chapel was intended for the poor with all seats free from the expense of pew rental.143 Leaving all of the seats free was a controversial decision, since pew rental was a significant source of church income;  67 therefore, construction costs had to be offset entirely by donation. Bishop Medley was an ardent supporter of free seats, having published a paper on the subject in the inaugural edition of the Exeter Diocesan Architectural Society Transactions, repeating 3 Phillim 16: “there shall be no property in pews144. Nevertheless, he used the opportunity to advertise the chapel’s free seats to a British audience in order to solicit donations to complete Fredericton’s cathedral. The case was one of the politics of religion in which the sale of church seats to the ‘highest bidder’ was a sign of progressive economy. Medley argued conservatively against the closed pew-system, noting it was: not only contrary to all sound principles of Architecture, and fatal to all excellence in the interior arrangement of a Church, but that it is alike inconvenient, illegal, and unchristian, and that the arguments in its favour, and the objections against the system of open seats, properly understood, are fallacious and untenable.145 2.4  Selling Early Ecclesiology as Identity in the Maritimes Architectural knowledge, expertise, and ‘styles’ were transmitted from Britain  and Europe to the Canadas initially through the immigration of architects and builders. Once British-trained architects had set up practice in the Dominion, they became equally dependant upon British books, journals, and magazines as the Canadian-born practitioners. The dispositions around the professionalization of architectural practice meant that distinctions arose between the use of pattern books and magazines. The formally-trained architects read pattern books for data and the builders that wanted to raise their professional status read the books like magazines, for the latest architectural ‘fashions’.  68 The link between pattern book publication and architectural practice was mainly commercial, but it was also driven by social dynamics, such as the force of religion and the search for group identity.146 While architects produced church pattern books to establish a marketable reputation and increase their professional stature,147 religion and identity were the chief reasons that a particular book might resonate with its reading audiences. In the Maritimes in the 1840s pattern books became the architectural substance that referred back to British society, something that increasingly needed to be verified by the printed page. An example of the type of pattern book that would have appealed to all categories of user was British architect George Truefitt’s Designs for Country Churches (1850). It contained twenty-two full-page perspective illustrations of churches varying in design from chapels, to parishes, to conventual churches. The churches illustrated in the hardbound volume adhered to Ecclesiological principles, meant to facilitate the “rise and progress of the revival of the taste for Pointed Architecture”, where ‘Pointed’ was synonymous with ‘Christian’ architecture to describe the Gothic Revival style.148 The book lacked a long historical introduction and therefore was chiefly a picture book with rich illustrations. Truefitt’s earlier and little known text Architectural Sketches on the Continent (1847) was produced after a period of travel on the Continent, evoking the status of a Grand Tour.149 The prime difference between the two books was indicated in their preface sections; Architectural Sketches (1847) focused on “knowledge” while Designs for Country Churches (1850), a more mature volume, examined “public taste”.150 Truefitt’s books marketed the constant renewal of production and consumption of visual and verbal imagery to Maritime church-builders. His endorsement was part of a  69 much larger promotion of Britain’s Gothic Revival, led by architects and publishers more influential than he.151 Truefitt’s books show admiration for the architectural principles laid out for Catholic congregations by A. W.N. Pugin (1812-1852),152 later brought into Anglican worship chiefly through the Ecclesiological Society.153 Truefitt directly credits Pugin’s book True Principles and the “excellent practical rules and correct advice of the [Ecclesiological Society]” with giving a “clue to the real spirit of the style.”154 For the Society and its followers, the ‘real’ spirit was emphatically religious. Truefitt’s link with the Ecclesiological Society was further revealed by Architectural Sketches’ dedication to Alexander James Beresford Hope, a founding member of that society. The link with the Society, and particularly with respect to Beresford Hope, announced Truefitt’s architectural – and religious – leaning toward High Anglican ideals associated with ritual in worship. Truefitt promoted the Anglican Communion, and its social economic and professional privilege. Embedded in that structure was the notion that poorer Anglican congregations could not afford the expensive designs more suited to the wealthy. Consequently, Truefitt sustained hierarchical social structures traditionally associated with dominant cultures. Truefitt’s modest contribution to British architecture and church pattern books illustrates how religion and taste were used to market Neo-Gothic architecture, which spread through to the moderates of British architectural practice, as well as practitioners in Canadian outposts of the British Empire. The ideas did not cease their social life once the three-dimensional church building was realized because the books of church imagery continued to circulate with a life of their own. The social life of pattern books impacted  70 the formation of identity in the Dominion. Like Truefitt, British-trained architect William Hay (1818- 1888) also showed an affinity with Pugin’s religious ideals, marketing of taste, as well as, construction principles. The interface of Pugin’s ideals with Hay’s practice in the Dominion was exemplified by the eulogy Hay wrote for Pugin. Bearing in mind that eulogizing is a particularly religious enterprise, Hay’s use of the term ‘Christian’ in the eulogy to describe Neo-Gothic reinforced Pugin’s affiliation of the Church and architectural ‘righteousness’. Hay also tied religion with taste as neatly together as Pugin himself with the statement: to the various and learned writings of Pugin we are chiefly indebted for the late revival of pure taste, and the getting rid of much spurious architecture of the Brummagem Gothic school, worse in many respects than pure Pagan.155 Hay’s verbal imagery, like Truefitt’s visual data, endorsed the efficacy of new buildings that followed the ‘spirit’ of medieval design principles rather than the precise copying of ancient models. But, Hay’s architectural output was not based on models, as Bishop Medley was shown to use at Christ Church Fredericton. Instead, Hay adapted Ecclesiological principles to suit his clients’ needs, indicating he understood the latest Neo-Gothic trends in Britain and how to market their enduring aspects to his clientele. In following Pugin, Hay and Truefitt parted company over the application of architectural philosophy. Hay believed that the traditional values of the Gothic Revival needed to jibe with indigenous building. Truefitt was more progressive by adapting the principles of the Gothic Revival to suit his original designs thereby retaining the ‘art’ in architecture.156 Both men agreed that a Gothic Revival architect was expected to learn to “think in Gothic, exclusive of actual authority”.157  71 2.4.1 Case Study: Anglican Cathedral of St. John’s, Newfoundland Bishop Feild’s (1801-1876) new cathedral in St. John’s, Newfoundland capitalized on the reputation and taste of its architect, George Gilbert Scott (later knighted for his service to architecture). Scott shipped the drawings from his offices in London in the hands of his assistant, William Hay.158 Scott’s drawings show the architect adapted Ecclesiological principles to suit his own sense of ‘beauty’, in consultation with Bishop Feild. In addition, the transmittal of the suite of drawings for the cathedral illustrated how Bishop Feild and his architect Gilbert Scott traded economic and artistic capital around the symbolic capital of the established Church.159 The events surrounding the cathedral project were as rocky and crestfallen as the Newfoundland landscape. The poverty surrounding Newfoundland’s main industries of fishing and shipbuilding and the “dearth of taste” among local residents were troublesome hurdles. An associate of Feild’s, William Grey the Principal of Queen’s College at St. John’s, echoed these sentiments in a letter that remarked: Fashions are palmed off on the credulous fashion-hunters here as new which really are stale enough in England. Church-building is in the same predicament; the revival, which began with you in 1839, can scarcely be said to have begun here, although there have certainly been more enquiries what Gothic architecture is within the last two years than ever there were before in Newfoundland. You wonder perhaps that, under these circumstances, Newfoundland can boast of our noblest colonial cathedral. But this is the doing of our noble-hearted Bishop alone. The building is quite unappreciated by the majority of persons here… they see no beauty in it, because it is not finished.160 Feild intended to build a new cathedral in St. John’s in 1844 but found the local residents resistant to the High Church principles of Ecclesiology. They were initially unwilling to put money into architecture that did not reflect their Low Church ideals.161 In 1844, he wrote to his colleague and fellow clergyman William Scott in England bemoaning that:  72 The fact is there are no more means to complete or proceed with [the cathedral] and I can see no disposition on the part of the people to come forward with additional subscriptions at all adequate to the object.162 To the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel he wrote: Our projected Cathedral seems to have died a natural or unnatural death through want of funds, and of love. The subject now is never raised even in talk.163 It is not certain whether the letters were actually meant to solicit financial support in Britain by showing the state of ‘crisis’ of the established Church in Newfoundland. Providentially, a fire that destroyed large parts of St. John’s and left hundreds of people homeless became the rallying point for the established Church in Newfoundland. A civic committee for the relief of the sufferers of the fire at St. John’s succeeded in obtaining a Royal letter from Queen Victoria authorizing the Archbishops of Canterbury and York to adopt measures for providing relief.164 Anglican Church officials in St. John’s opportunistically positioned themselves to intercede upon the delivery of the funds in order to obtain financial control for their cathedral project. Showing the level of animosity between the Anglican and Catholic Churches, the Anglican Archdeacon of St. John’s Thomas Bridge wrote to the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, an Anglican institution, asking: I hope it may be possible to make some arrangements for the disposal of the Collections under [the Queen’s letter], by which a portion of them may be applied to the restoration of the church. That, I would think, would be right and just, seeing that the great bulk of those who will share in the Relief supplied for those who have suffered temporal loss by the late fire, will not belong to our Communion, whilst all the contributions under a Queen’s letter will, of course, come from members of it.165 The established Church in England raised the money and the Church of England in Canada wanted to keep a significant portion of the money away from the Roman Catholics who outnumbered Anglicans in the colony. Archdeacon Bridge’s letter also  73 shows that sentiments had not changed toward the Roman Catholics on the island in a decade since Bridge’s predecessor Archdeacon Edward Wix (1802-1866) had written in his journal in 1836: you were living in a town, which, for the lawlessness of a large portion of its inhabitants, who are excited to breaches of the peace by a most seditious Romish priesthood, is as little desirable a place of residence as many of the disturbed townships of Ireland.166 In terms of the financial capital investment on souls saved in Newfoundland, the Anglican Church was faring least well of all.167 After arriving in St. John’s harbour for the first time, Bishop Feild remarked upon the growth amassed by the Catholic Church. The Bishop felt the pressure of harvesting souls for the established Church in a ‘wooden shed’ of a church he inherited from his predecessor, Bishop Spencer. According to Bishop Feild, an impressive Gothic cathedral was needed to win the battle for the island’s souls. However, the process of building a large stone cathedral, even on an island composed chiefly of rock, turned out to be a formidable procedure. To begin with, suitable masonry had to be shipped to St. John’s, which exasperated British authorities who criticized Bishop Feild’s seemingly spendthrift ways. For instance, a hand-written memo from Arthur Blackwood, Senior Clerk, to H. Merivale, under-secretary of State for the Colonies was attached to the back of William Hay’s status report on the cathedral’s construction. The note read: Mr. Merivale It would seem that the £16,000 which has been spent on the Cathedral is insufficient to complete the Building, & that the Bishop does not know where the rest of the money is to be found to finish the interior & make is serviceable. Two good stone churches might have been built for that money.168 In following up on the Queen’s letter which raised money after the St. John’s fire, the St. John’s cathedral project came under the microscope of British authorities. The under-  74 secretary of State for the Colonies clearly believed that economy gave him the right to pass judgement on colonial church-building without having set foot on the rocky Newfoundland ground. Feild had made at least one public reference to book publications in his quest to build a new cathedral in St. John’s. He mentioned A.W.N. Pugin’s book The Present State of Ecclesiastical Architecture in England in a letter to his colleague William Scott, making particular reference to “the Church of St. Wilfrid”.169 He especially noted the church’s cost of construction, estimated at £5,000. Other design sources made themselves available, such as, a set of drawings sent by the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in the summer of 1846.170 2.5  Race, Rebellion, and Politics in Lower and Upper Canada Religion appeared to bind together the Dominion’s populace, though in reality it  both formed social structures and catalyzed resistances. The 1837 rebellion in Lower Canada led by Louis-Joseph Papineau raised the issue of religion, race, French identity and nationality. The rebellion, coupled with another prominent rebellion in Upper Canada led William Lyon Mackenzie,171 prompted the British Colonial Office to suspend the Constitution in the Dominion and appoint Lord Durham (John Lambton) to the post of Governor-General. The circumstances effectively made the Governor-General’s post into a constitutional monarch in the Dominion.172 Controversially, Lord Durham’s 1839 Report accepted the minority view of the English-speaking business community in Montreal that stated French-Canadian society – resolutely Roman Catholic – was “priest-ridden and unprogressive.”173 Lord Durham urged the British Crown to “settle the matter” of Anglican minority in Lower Canada by  75 adopting a policy favouring the union of Upper and Lower Canada in order to make the French a minority and undermine the quest for French nationalism.174 Since religion was a contributing factor in both Empire-building and in settlement expansion across the Dominion of Canada, it was not unusual to find the British flag flying from the towers of Anglican churches in the Dominion. Flying the Union Jack from Anglican churches was also a significant means of representing social continuity wrapped around “those [sic] who claimed to be descendants of natives of Scotland, Ireland, England, or France [who were] the same class of people [having] the same customs, institutions, and laws.”175 For this reason, the flag – like church pattern books – were a visible means of expressing settlement expansion under the influence of the established Church, thereby recalling ‘old world’ privilege and social prestige.176 Pattern books expressed the emergent visuality of economy because prestige was visibly linked to wealth. Taste in the Maritimes in the 1840s and 50s, was essentially consolidated around British examples. At the same time, these same factors did not constitute a singular Dominion identity, but rather a network or tapestry of multiple identities consolidated around geographic and temporal power structures (provincial, urban, religious, social) as concentrated settlement expanded west, north, and even inward from the coasts. Denominational differences were reflected in the aesthetics and plan of churches, meaning that Roman Catholic, Anglican, Presbyterian, Baptist, and Methodist groups each manipulated the Neo-Gothic style in subtly different ways. As well, cultural differences were also reflected in ecclesiastical architecture. Predictably, Acadian churches in PEI had a French Neo-Gothic flavour. Temporal differences were also rather  76 striking, so within the span of a few or more decades massive changes occurred in the way Neo-Gothic churches looked. 2.5.1 Case Study: Montreal’s Christ Church (later cathedral) 1857 The industrial manufacture that developed in the province of Quebec, and especially at Montreal, after 1850 had an impact upon the political and social debates of the time. Montreal’s geographic location on the St. Lawrence assisted mercantile, and thus urban, growth as compared to Toronto. In 1860, Montreal (population 90,323) had fourteen foundries employing 427 workers as compared to Toronto (population 44,821) had only four foundries employing only 58 workers. These figures related proportionally to the number of churches built in each city. The city of Montreal had 11 Roman Catholic and 24 Protestant churches versus the city of Toronto, which had only 3 Roman Catholic and 9 Protestant churches in 1860. The measurement of these figures by census indicated the importance given to scientific and business efficiency. Accordingly, protective tariffs became both the economic focal points and the measure of the Dominion’s wealth.177 By 1870, Quebec’s manufacturing businesses were steadily weakened through attrition and the relocation of enterprise in Ontario and the west. Quebec lagged behind Ontario as an agricultural producer because of a failure to “develop the wealth and local capital necessary to encourage the capital intensive, high value added industry.”178 On the other hand, provincial debt in Quebec was relatively small because of the conservative stance taken by its governing apparatus.179 Not overburdened by debt, but lacking for manufacture, local merchants supported modest church-building initiatives. Bishop Fulford’s Christ Church Cathedral in Montreal, though completed more than a decade after Lord Durham’s 1839 Report that recommended something be ‘settled’  77 in regards the ‘French issue’, was an architectural rallying point for an Anglican minority in Lower Canada.180 The monumental scale of Christ Church Cathedral visibly countered the demographic scale of Anglicanism in the Montreal population, which was fourteen percent. Christ Church’s monumentality was a visible denial that Anglicans contributed to only about fourteen percent of the province’s population. Bishop Fulford’s architect, Frank Wills articulated these tensions in his pattern book Ancient English Ecclesiastical Architecture; and its Principles Applied to the Wants of the Present Day (1850). Wills wrote: There is a catholicity in architecture as well as in the Church, and may be separated from Popery as well in one as the other, the dross removed, the rest is all our own, and let us use it as our inheritance. The wretched Gothic abortions every day witnessed and everyday lauded, have no more right to the appellation of Christian architecture than the late New England heresy is to be considered as an article in the creed of the Catholic Church; they both have their origin in the vagaries of ignorant men, and ere long, will share an equally ignominious fate.181 Frank Wills presented his pattern book in 1856 to the building committee of the Anglican cathedral in Montreal as a matter of self-promotion. The book was produced with promotion in mind because its pages were organized in the fashion of U.S. domestic and ecclesiastical pattern books that illustrated an author’s own designs. This type of pattern book was more pragmatic than its British counterparts that were associated with the replication of British social values in the colonies. U.S. pattern book formats were engaged more in self-aggrandizement and the marketing of church-building in a commercial and unapologetic manner. I argue that the exchange of economic and symbolic capital between Wills and Bishop Fulford mutually increased the legitimacy of both parties. U.S. pattern books routinely included eclectic mixes of domestic and religious architecture, such as, A.J. Bicknell’s Victorian Buildings (1878). The mixture of  78 domestic and religious spaces within the covers of U.S. pattern books illustrated how sacred space was fused with secular space. The connectivity between sacred and secular spaces, coupled with the re-production of a variety of church imagery, contributed to the commercialization of churches. Pattern books that crossed the U.S. border into the Dominion contributed to a similar commericalization of church imageries. The Ecclesiologist generally liked Wills’ design claiming that the church marked “an epoch in transatlantic ecclesiology”.182 The design was promoted beyond the borders of ecclesiastical interests. Coincident with the cathedral’s consecration in 1860, a perspective view was published in the Illustrated London News that gave the design international exposure and pronounced the building “the most beautiful specimen of ecclesiastical architecture in Canada, if not on the American Continent.” (fig. 2.17)183 Besides noting the free seats opened for the consecration ceremony, the newspaper article noted that construction costs were approximately £35,000. Once again, the church was modelled on St. Mary’s, Snettisham. The church’s inclusion of the rose window motif was typically thought of as French but its extensive use in major English twelfth and thirteenth century cathedrals, such as, Lincoln and York Minster is unmistakable. Indeed, the motif’s appropriation by English medieval architects was echoed in the nineteenth century by the re-appropriation of Gothic as an English invention. For that reason, a contemporaneous published account in the Illustrated London News showed how British architects Smith and Hertford had built a Neo-Gothic church for Protestant congregation in Nice, France (fig. 2.18).184 Its cruciform plan with crossing tower and elaborate finials on the tower, transepts and entrance gables was not a mainstay in pattern book visual imagery because it was expensive to construct. The added expense and expertise needed  79 to building the piers that supported a crossing tower was too costly a venture for the pattern books to promote widely. One of the only known crossing towers depicted in pattern books was included in Frederick Withers’ book Church Architecture; Plans, Elevations, and Views of Twenty-One Churches (1873).185 2.5.2 Comparative Case Study: St. Simon and St. Jude, Tignish PEI On August 19, 1860, Father Peter MacIntyre (1818- 1891), later Bishop of Charlottetown, led an impressively long procession of religious and civic dignitaries to consecrate the small Roman Catholic parish church of St. Simon and St. Jude in Tignish, PEI (fig. 2.19).186 The last of eight children to parents of Scottish birth, Father MacIntyre was ordained the first resident priest in Tignish, an Irish-Catholic community living in a place that had been founded in 1799 by eight Acadian families moved from Malpeque, PEI. Locally in Tignish, the church was a visible disruption to the power of the Anglican Church in PEI because the building was the town’s first brick structure. The Charlottetown Herald summed up the situation of the Roman Catholics in PEI: [Father MacIntyre] saw before him a Catholic population – scattered over a country where to be a Catholic was to be intellectually, socially, and commercially at a disadvantage. There were no Catholic schools outside of Charlottetown, there was no Catholic filling a public office of any importance – indeed to be a Catholic was to be regarded with suspicion and distrust be one half of the population of the colony.187 The construction of St. Simon and St. Jude’s church was thus, the effort of a closed community of Irish-Catholics, excepting the fact that their leader was a Scotsman whose parents hailed from Uist and Inverness. Local materials, including the foundation’s sandstone from Lot 7, a half-million locally produced bricks, as well as volunteer labour to haul those materials went into the crafting of the church.  80 In 1857, Father MacIntyre formed the building committee and charged them with completing the new church to replace the wooden structure deemed obsolete. He personally hired the architect Patrick Keely (1816-1896), an Irish immigrant practicing out of Brooklyn, New York. Keely was introduced to Father MacIntyre by the Reverend Sylvain-Ephrem Poirier, but the meeting was unlikely the sole cause for gaining the commission. The Irish-Catholic congregation at St. Simon and St. Jude must have gladly accepted Keely, whose family came from the “right” part of Ireland, Kilkenny in the south. Keely ardently supported the Irish-born architect A.W.N. Pugin and advocated his architectural principles.188 Keely’s design for St. Simon and St. Jude reflected Pugin’s tenet that ornament need serve a constructional-cum-truthful function rather than obey a purely aesthetic wont. Keely took the principle to heart and produced a stark Neo-Gothic church with a central western tower, partially integrated into the nave that could in no way be accused of aesthetic excess. An economy of line gave the church a certain ‘minimalist’ elegance. But, Keely was not only looking at Pugin’s architecture and principles as a model. Practicing in New York, he would have been acutely aware of the architect Richard Upjohn and his book Upjohn’s Rural Architecture (1852) that was published in New York. For that reason, St. Simon and St. Jude is not dissimilar to Upjohn’s Christ Church, Brooklyn (1841-2) and more similar to Upjohn’s original drawing of Dr. Pott’s Presbyterian Church, New York (1844).189 In addition, Keely economized on materials by using wood in imitation of stone in the arcades at Tignish to accompany the lath-andplaster vaults. These were decidedly not Ecclesiological though that sort of architectural  81 precedent mattered less to the Roman Catholic Church than robust architectonic references to the ancient world and Rome. 2.5.3 Comparative Case Study: St. Mary’s Roman Catholic Church (1899-1902), Indian River, PEI On August 4, 1896, St. Mary’s Roman Catholic Church in Indian River was struck by lightning as the Reverend Monsignor D.J. Gillis stood on a nearby verandah saying his rosary. Consequently, Monsignor Gillis instructed his architect William Critchlow Harris (1854-1913) to re-build St. Mary’s church (fig. 2.20 and 2.21) like St. Malachy’s at Kinkora, which featured an impressive groined ceiling of lightly stained birch-wood. Harris adopted French Neo-Gothic based on the fashions occurring at the time in Quebec, Britain, and the United States. Harris visited Montreal on several occasions to inspect churches similar to his final design for St. Mary’s. St. Mary’s presents itself as a case study in spite of its late construction date because of the enduring affiliations with French culture and its opposition to the earlier construction in Tignish. As exemplified by St. Mary’s church, Acadian culture endured in late nineteenthcentury PEI despite the appropriation of French possessions after the Treaty of Paris was signed in 1763. Though the Anglican Church had thereafter gained a strong foothold on the island thereafter, Roman Catholic immigration continued to arrive principally from southern Ireland and Catholic areas of the Scottish Highlands.190 In addition, immigration of Methodist, New Light Baptist, and Presbyterian organizations diluted Anglican dominance. Furthermore, some local dissenter religious groups splintered into small but strong factions which developed resilient identities on the island, such as, the 5,000 ‘McDonaldites’ who became semi-independent from the Church of Scotland.191 A similar  82 resilience of Acadian culture appears in the French Neo-Gothic architecture of St. Mary’s Church. Harris believed that the rounded forms used on the ceiling’s wood vault, and echoed in the rounded corner tower, improved acoustics. Thus, he was able to justify French style on technical grounds. The science of acoustics also justified Harris’s wooden vault system, which the architect argued would not have been achievable with an open-timber roof, such as, those illustrated in Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Open Timber Roofs of the Middle Ages (fig. 2.22). Anglican church-builders who continued to refer to ecclesiological rules well into the late nineteenth century justified open roofs on symbolic grounds. The architectural firm of Cram, Goodhue, and Fergusson, who competed with and bested Harris for large-scale projects in the Maritimes argued that the taste associated with symbolism trumped the science of acoustics. The identities in rural PEI continued to be presented in symbolic and not necessarily scientific terms. Harris’s attachment to acoustics certainly came from his personal skills as a musician. However, the verbal rhetoric concerning acoustics had a niche market within the broader pattern book discourse. For instance, the opening paragraph of the U.S. architect Charles P. Dwyer prescribed: In taking up the subject of church construction, there are some points worthy of particular attention; namely, the absolute necessity for hearing distinctly in every part of the building … and perfect accommodation of the auditory.192 He proceeded to discuss the merits of designing a flow for people and arrangement of the set pieces in the church space, including the arrangement of the pulpit and galleries. But, Dwyer brought the narrative back to the flow of divine light and the audible aspects of worship as factors of salvation and improved society. In Dwyer’s estimation economy, as  83 well as technology, clearly constituted improved society. He crafted a small pattern book industry from the publication of a suite of books committed to showing a readership the method of building cheap, efficient buildings.193 Simplicity was the substitute for extravagance, and even his drawings demonstrate an economy of line. His books had no Picturesque illustrations and no historical overview of architectural periods. Instead, he offered an architect’s practical advice filtered through the social concerns of the day, including the “healthful” method of heating a church from below the floor boards and not by way of a stove set in the nave. Summary The construction of Neo-Gothic churches in the Maritimes and Lower Canada in the 1840s and 50s expressed the economy, politics, and patterns of public taste that were indicated in the pattern books. A significant component of this network was related to the dissemination of knowledge and taste constituted in the church pattern books imported from Britain. The growth of consumer society influenced the demand for variety in church aesthetics and the pattern books were symptoms of the new commercial practices. The potency of Ecclesiology developed because print media, and the pattern books in particular, developed a raft of architectural principles that were marketed in terms of taste. Pugin’s principles of Neo-Gothic that favoured the association of religion and architecture legitimized and reified those architectural rules as though they were positive implements of the social order. Social control in the Dominion had been emulated British models. As a result, the robustness of the elevations, sections, and plans of medieval and medieval revival churches illustrated in the pattern books was due to their reassertion of British identity. The modelling of St. Anne’s Chapel and the Anglican  84 cathedral in Fredericton, New Brunswick on medieval churches in Britain were compelling examples. The business of church-building and the consumption of the pattern books in Lower Canada and the Maritimes was constituted by an already established British identity that drew its power from the Anglican Church, which styled the Monarch as supreme ‘Defender of the Faith’. The Canadas’ description as a ‘Dominion’ was a compelling image because of the combination of religious and secular elements of society. Neo-Gothic doctrines conscripted history into commercialized modern lifestyle and pushed forward the renewal of production and consumption. In this sense, people identified themselves through taste, or more properly, fashion. The pattern books advertised taste as an instrument of improving one’s social standing except for the difficultly of realizing these promises in the Dominion where the ordinary public objected to people rising above their station in life. Thus, the main factor in pattern books’ consumption became focused upon science, efficiency, and discipline expressed in architectural terms as ecclesiology. Church pattern books used high quality print and photolithographic techniques to meet market expectations. In essence, the production, distribution, and consumption of church pattern books was a serious business; authors had to divulge a good reason for writing a pattern book and making money was neither a professionally nor socially acceptable reason. As such, authors claimed to assist the greater good. Writing a preface to his [pattern] book Ancient English Ecclesiastical Architecture (1850), Frank Wills summed up the common motivations of pattern book authors: …to give a few practical hints suited to this time and country, which may be of service to those who contemplate the erection of a House of God. The want of  85 some volume treating popularly on the above subject has long been felt. A taste for the study of Ecclesiology has been of late rapidly increasing. Volume after volume superbly illustrated has been issued from the English press, but most of these have been adapted for the use of professional architects, or of those who have devoted their leisure to the study of numerous examples around them. A mere glossary … is not sufficient to show the American student what an Ancient English Parish Church is… The present book is intended to meet this want.194 Wills’ book purported to solve the problems experienced by American architectural students while also operating as a marketing device for its author. Though there is no reason to doubt Wills’ altruistic intent, it is also clear that book sales and thus commercial practice were firmly in the picture. An important consideration in the next chapter is the way that groups of Anglicans constituted their privilege in the social structure of economy, particularly relevant to a pattern book economy and a church-building economy. The interconnection of a suite of social, economic, and political factors will be examined with respect to church-building in Ontario and Manitoba, as well as, the resultant uneven living conditions that emerged from capital development.  86 III.  Property Ownership, Church-Building, and Pattern Book Economies in Ontario and Manitoba in the 1860s and 1870s “A Christian nation without a religious establishment is a contradiction” Bishop John Strachan, A Sermon Preached at York, Upper Canada, Third of July 1825, on the Death of the Late Lord Bishop of Quebec “Canada has shown a remarkable amount of progress. We have the best canal system in the world and the best railway system. Notwithstanding that some parties said the C.P. railway would never earn sufficient to pay for the axel grease, the company was able to pay a dividend on the enormous capital it required to build the road. We must try to develop a national spirit. We must develop our resources.” S.G. Curry, President, remarks at Annual Dinner for Toronto Architectural Sketch Club Canadian Architect and Builder vol. 3 (1890), 12: 136  The Anglican Church in the Dominion attempted to use the mechanics of property ownership to leverage its privilege and prestige. Consequently, the Church used the same rhetoric that the Dominion’s governments and industries applied to procuring massive allotments of land. To unpack the political and economic apparatus behind these practices, which also appeared in the pattern books’ visual and verbal imagery, this chapter will examine the strong Anglican current in societal formation. A central theme is the commercial components of church-building in Ontario and Manitoba in the 1860s, and 70s, expressed through the methods of financing Anglican churches and the problematics around land ownership. A particular focus in this chapter will be the interaction of social privilege and economy as they influenced the deal-making processes of church-building in Toronto and Winnipeg. The deal-making processes that were involved in building a church were emblematic of the larger negotiations involved in Confederation.  87 Church officials adopted the language used by government and industry representatives that presumed the land to be ‘empty’ prior to European settlement. It is important to note that the process of procuring land was played out differently across the Dominion because settlement in Ontario and Manitoba occurred under treaty with Aboriginal people while settlement in British Columbia chiefly did not. Consequently, the social impact of church-building on First Nations in British Columbia is discussed in Chapter IV, while this chapter focuses on the acquisition of land in Ontario and Manitoba based on its value to European settlers. Nevertheless, that value was dependent upon concealing the history of Aboriginal peoples on the land while making space for white settlers. Thus, British settlers to Ontario and Manitoba were able to manufacture a ‘new’ visual history for the land beneath their churches. A chief purpose of that new visual history was to legitimize the appropriation of land using the authority invested in medieval architectural precedent presented in the pattern books. The methodology of this chapter draws upon the recent publication by Pierre Bourdieu, The Social Structures of the Economy (2005), which studied the interactions of home buyers and selling agents. In the case of church pattern books, the commercial market and public taste had a greater influence over the spread of Anglican churchbuilding than the state did, though I value Bourdieu’s methodological approach to the interface between producers and consumers. The connection between property ownership and religious institution provides a method for studying the assertion of religion in the spectrum of Canadian economy, politics, and social systems. In particular, church-building, and the consumption of the pattern books, marked the social practices associated with the way religion was financed  88 and imagined as a force of social cohesiveness. Beneath that imagined cohesiveness were rifts tearing at the seemingly smooth surface of some religious institutions and their congregations. Congregants argued about the way money was spent on their churches. The variety of Neo-Gothic church designs made available by the pattern books amplified the debates over the way churches should look. The situation contributed to tension at a crucial time when religious institution wanted to present a unified image to the public in order to appear deserving of the economic benefits of settling the land. The close association between taste, finance, commerce, and property underlay the social formation in Ontario and Manitoba. Readers of the pattern books in the Dominion drew together the spread of taste and the mobility afforded by rail travel to help make claims on the land. For instance, the following passage from the book Brick and Marble in the Middle Ages (1855) written by the British architect George Edmund Street resonated with Ontario and Manitoba audiences: In these days of railways and rapid travelling there is scarcely any excuse for ignorance of Continental art. The most busy man finds some short holiday in the course of the year, and, if wise as well as busy, spends it not in quiet sojourn at home, but in active search of the picturesque, the beautiful, or the old, in nature or in art…195 Street was encouraging Britain’s citizens to seek out and even rescue medieval churches, but readers of his book in Ontario and Manitoba were excited by the possibility of creating Picturesque settings for their Neo-Gothic churches that compared to the ones they saw in the books. The readers of the pattern books were exposed to a second kind of citation of the past, which was found in authors’ references to each other. Thus, Street’s concluding remarks of his preface, which stated, “I cannot speak too highly of the assistance afforded  89 to the architectural student of Murray’s Handbook of Northern Italy: it is almost invariably correct…”196 was actually a literary device for legitimizing his own claims to architectural taste. Street’s claims typified those made by other pattern book authors who needed to legitimize their methodology. A range of case studies will probe the network of factors surrounding churchbuilding and the consumption of pattern books in Ontario and Manitoba. The cases include: the Anglican cemetery chapels of St. James the Less Cemetery and the Necropolis in Toronto; the seat of the Anglican diocese in Toronto, St. James’ Cathedral; and, Holy Trinity Church in Winnipeg. Comparative cases include Toronto’s Metropolitan Methodist Church and the ‘old’ and ‘new’ St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Churches. These churches were visible examples of the resistances to the so-called architectural ‘correctness’ that Anglican’s promoted in their pattern books. In addition, the case studies in this chapter will show how U.S. pattern books influenced a new species of Neo-Gothic church in Toronto and Winnipeg.197 3.1  Anglican Church-Building Alongside Property Acquisition and Settlement Expansion in Ontario and Manitoba The significance of property was expressed in Section 91 of the British North  America Act of 1867, which established the legislative authority over “the Public Debt and Property” as its primary concern. Property was second only to “the Regulation of Trade and Commerce”, and “the raising of Money by any Mode or System of Taxation”, listed in sub-sections 91 (1), 91(2), 91(3) of the Act. Church-building and the advice given in the pattern books encouraged the appropriations of land that occurred on behalf of religion and governmental authorities. Even oblique references to Picturesque landscapes in the pattern books demonstrated quite clearly how churches in the Dominion  90 were expected to blend with the vista. Still more important in the pattern books was the reference to the commerce associated with the commercialization of aesthetics; that is, constructing the Picturesque in the material world was an expensive proposition. These patterns of social and economic development contained in the British and the U.S. pattern books influenced the construction of churches in the Dominion. Thus, the pattern books that canonized visual components of the medieval past were inextricably connected to modern economies of the nineteenth-century. One of these new commercial practices was the railway, which offered the promise of modernization and acted as an instrument to legitimate removing Indigenous Peoples from their customary lands. Similarly, religion offered the promise of social improvement to veil assimilation. The rhetorics of travel, land, and spirituality were combined in CPR guidebooks that prompted travellers west to ‘See this world before the next’. 3.1.1 Material Representations of Spirituality The churches that marked out British and European settlement in Ontario and Manitoba were the material representation of spiritual authority, even though the religious institutions struggled against government for their perceived ‘fair’ share of land.198 In practical terms, land was an essential component in church-building because property guaranteed the mortgage needed to build a church,199 in addition to providing an actual space for the building. Mortgages were the only large-scale forms of capital available to church-builders, followed by individual donations and periodic revenue from bazaars. Thus, church-builders, no less than railway companies who issued bonds to raise working capital, relied upon the services of land agents, bankers, insurers, and mortgage brokers, all of whom – like the pattern books themselves – were involved in the new  91 commercial practices of the nineteenth century. Thus, the economies of religion was dependant upon the economy of property. In the 1860s and 70s, the economies in Ontario and Manitoba were caught in a boom and bust cycle, complicated by the shifting value of commodities, food, labour, and land.200 As a result, business was on the minds of religious leaders who considered the economy when timing new church buildings.201 For instance, the Bishop of Toronto claimed that, “the commercial depression …in 1857 [had] prostrated the whole country and paralysed the Church’s resources”.202 In poorer economies, the construction of new churches typically scaled back the amount of ornament or delayed the completion of nonessential architectural elements, including towers. More importantly, economic downturns generally coincided with an increase in the use of building plans available in pattern books; the expense of an architect’s original design probably appeared extravagant. Restricting the amount of ornament, and more importantly choosing which components of a church to postpone completion on, came into direct conflict with the pattern books advising builders to finishing the church in one campaign. As a result of economic uncertainty, the Anglican Church in Ontario, no less than the rest of the Dominion, believed its survival depended upon expansion. Church officials legitimated the institution’s expansion as forming a positive effect on society. In reality, the expansion of religious institution and the acquisition of property for churches was, in many cases, a personal endeavour. Wealthy settlers donated land to their church, thereby exchanging economic capital for cultural, social, and spiritual capital. For instance, a gift of land from D’Arcy Boulton (1759-1834) not only established the location for St. George’s Anglican Church, Toronto (John St. above  92 Queen St.; architect Henry Bower Lane, 1845) close to the family’s Grange estate, but it effectively made the church into a private family chapel.203 A brief description of the Boulton family will illustrate how the politics of church-building operated in Ontario. The Boulton family were members of the conservative and elite Tory-dominated government and they used clout to extend important positions to allies. As leaders of the so-called ‘Family Compact’, the family monopolized the Executive Council in Ontario, leaving the Legislative Assembly with little real power until Upper and Lower Canada were consolidated in 1841. D’Arcy Boulton ’s son, William Henry Boulton (1812-1874), sat on the building committee of St. George’s Church and was elected its first churchwarden, serving between 1844 and 1848, indicating the reciprocal relationship between Church service freely given and social privilege. The awarding of the design contract to the architect Henry Bower Lane, a Boulton family relation, cemented the connection between Church, property, and privilege.204 The enlarged costs of constructing the small church, estimated at $24,000, demonstrated how privilege guided the expenditure of money; the Boulton’s would have no church that they attended, on land donated by them, appear less endowed than their social standing demanded. As this early example illustrates, property and privilege were closely associated in the expansion of religion and church-building. The representations of church-building in the pattern books coincided with the imaging of choice allotments of property. Some British publications including Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Parish Churches (1849) and George Truefitt’s Designs for Country Churches (1850) showed how valuable sectors of countryside were ‘open’ to the Anglican Church for possession and manipulation. The pattern book by the British architect William Eden Nesfield entitled, Specimens of  93 Medieval Architecture Chiefly Selected from Examples of the 12th and 13th Centuries in France and Italy (1862) made extensive use of bucolic landscape settings for church architecture, and the book by the U.S. architect Henry Hudson Holly entitled Church Architecture (1871) followed suit (fig. 3.1). In reality, the land available to the Anglican Church in the Dominion did not turn out to be as bucolic as the pattern books made it seem. The U.S. architect Frederick Withers’ pattern book entitled, Church Architecture: Plans Views and Perspectives of Twenty-One Churches (1873) alternated between providing Picturesque views his church designs and elevation drawings that enhanced the book’s professional character (fig. 3.2). Alternately, the U.S. architect Amos Bicknell, Victorian Buildings (1878) omitted Picturesque drawings from his book entirely, creating generic designs that presumably could be successful in any location. The omission is significant since most architects were conscious of the public’s desire to have new architecture respond to the natural and already-built environments. Bicknell compounded the incongruity between his designs and the environment by offering a great deal of technical data meant to assist builders including sample business contracts meant to assist clients.205 Land was integral to the church-building process and the pattern books echoed the sentiment. Government officials in the Dominion, however, actually diminished the amount of land that was initially supposed to accrue to religious institutions. As a result, churches either purchased property on the open market or received gifts of land from parishioners. This put Anglicans in an increasingly difficult situation. On the one hand, Anglican parishioners were expected to give generously to aid the expansion of the Church. On the other hand, large gifts of money and land were construed as secular  94 interference with the theological operations of the Church, derogatorily known as ‘voluntarism’.206 Conservative clergymen referred to ‘Voluntarism’ as “free trade that worked on the heretical principle that individuals could make religious decisions based on their own self-interest”.207 The Anglican Church was particularly upset about losing control of what amounted to millions of acres of land. These lands were generally referred to as the Clergy Reserves that Anglican officials believed had been set aside from settlement in order to satisfy religious development; the Clergy Reserves will be discussed in detail later in this chapter.208 The loss of the Clergy Reserves resulted in the strengthening of local fund-raising initiatives. For instance, the construction of the St. Paul’s Anglican church on Bloor St. in Toronto in 1873, whose parish was an offshoot of St. James’s Cathedral, resulted because “Mrs. Proudfoot organized a bazaar that netted $4,000… and the late W.A. Baldwin mortgaged his farm for $8,000 to complete the church”.209 Interestingly, the church-bazaars run by women’s auxiliaries raised significant funds on par with commercial enterprise, though the bazaars retained the public appearance of ‘ice-cream socials’. Given the larger financial role of individuals in the financing of church-building, local businessmen became more vocal about the way churches should look. For instance, the newspaper editor and publisher John Ross Robertson printed extensive newspaper reports on new church constructions in Ontario. They were eventually published in six volumes as Robertson’s Landmarks of Toronto covering vast portions of the nineteenth and early decades of the twentieth centuries.210 His entry for St. Paul’s Anglican on Bloor St. juxtaposed the social practice of the elite churchgoer with the newly constructed church  95 building. His article painted a picture of the milieu among in Toronto’s privileged classes by noting that: A walk through Rosedale glen, through the cemeteries, over the Don [river] and along its banks [that] will reveal … many persons that had discharged their religious duty by going to church in the morning and leaving their pews vacant for the common people in the evening. But it was a pleasant and refreshing sight to see little children merrily skipping over the beautiful lawns in innocent play, while the contented mother luxuriously enjoyed the picture from the open window of a richly furnished drawing-room.211 Channelling the Divine through the Picturesque, he continued: With all this loveliness of nature attuning the spirit to worship the Power that created it, nothing is lost by entering a beautiful church where the classic surroundings complement the outside natural beauty. And St. Paul’s is an attractive one.212 An architectural assessment of St. Paul’s followed, which began: The building is a Gothic stone structure and conveys an impression of massiveness and solidity, although it is not a large building; its outline is well proportioned and it is an ideal structure, such a one as is frequently met with in the land across the sea – the real home of the Church of England.213 This final comment cut right through the anxiety in the Canadas around issues of authenticity, as though something essential had been lost in the translation of the gothic ‘style’ across the Atlantic that also diminished the authority of the established Church in the Dominion. Robertson had an extensive book collection indicating the likelihood that Ontario businessmen gleaned their knowledge of architecture from imported books. These businessmen sat on church-building committees alongside local builders and architects who supplied the practitioner’s perspective. The variety of economic perspectives produced a degree of disharmony at committee meetings. The situation is roughly comparable to regional political pressure disrupting the process of Confederation to  96 “found a great nation, with strong central governments having dominion from sea to sea”.214 Grudgingly, the federal initiative recognized the local political voices even though nationalists believed in the “subordinate stature” of provincial governments “exercising merely municipal powers”.215 The same thing was happening on a smaller scale in church-building where local building committees complied with Gothic Revival standards but resisted ‘standardization’ by adopting pursuing aesthetic variety.216 3.1.2 Britain’s Parish Church Model in Rural Ontario During the 1860s and 70s British rural parish churches acted as models for a variety of ecclesiastical buildings in the Dominion. Among the several reasons for advocating parish churches as models for the colonies were economic and practical considerations, which included lowering the cost of materials and the amount of skilled labour needed to complete the job. A popular parish church model was the thirteenth-century fabric of St. Michael’s in Long Stanton, Cambridgeshire. The idyllic depiction of Long Stanton in a natural setting in Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s pattern book entitled Parish Churches (1848) set a standard for the Picturesque among advocates for the Gothic Revival. For instance, Frank Wills’ Ancient Ecclesiastical Architecture (1850) clearly borrowed the wooded landscape setting employed by Brandon. Typically, these designs included a west end gable surmounted by a bell-cote that was flush with the western façade. Usually, a round window flanked by a group of simple lancets was housed in the western gable. The repetition of subtle variations in different pattern books and its adoption across Canada was a powerful combination.  97 As already noted in Chapter Two, St. Anne’s Chapel, Fredericton, New Brunswick by Franks Wills (fig. 3.3) was aesthetically related to a collection of other parish churches in Canada that had been marketed in the pattern books. Included in the grouping of parish churches that have low walls, steep-pitched roofs, and a single, double or triple bell-cote integrated into the west wall are the Anglican Church of the Messiah, rang du Bord de l’eau, Sabrevois, Quebec (c.1855) (fig. 3.4) and St. John the Evangelist, Oxford Mills, Ontario (1869) (fig. 3.5). The arrangement was repeated in timber at St. Mary’s Church (1865) New Westminster, BC built by architect J.C. White. St. Stephen’sin-the-Fields at the corner of College and Bellevue, Toronto (1856) by Thomas Fuller which combined the silhouette with rich constructional polychrome by using brick and stone. The parish model-type used at St. Anne’s appeared in a variety of pattern books which included a design for an iron church published in the second series of Instrumenta Ecclesiastica (1856) (fig. 3.6), this one authorized by the Ecclesiological Society. It also appeared in Design no. 10 in Frederick Withers’s Church Architecture (1873) (fig. 3.2). The bell-cote silhouette was still popular in 1880 when Amos Bicknell’s company published a compilation book of other architects’ designs entitled Specimen Book of One Hundred Architectural Designs, Showing Plans, Elevations, and Views of Suburban Houses, Villas, Sea-Side and Campground Cottages, Homesteads, Churches and Public Buildings (1880) that included another of Frederick Withers’s renditions of the distinctive gable. The Rev. F.J. Jobson published a scaled-down version minus the bellcote in a design for a village chapel to be used by Wesleyan Methodists in Chapel and School Architecture as Appropriate to the Buildings of Nonconformists (1850) (fig. 3.7).  98 3.1.3 The Financial Structure of Churches in Ontario and Manitoba after Confederation Land transactions occurring subsequent to Confederation continued the connection between religious and secular society. Lawyers, businessmen, and builders often sat on the boards of church-building committees and provided their professional service free of charge to the church. These professionals could afford to donate their time since they had profited by the provinces’ new economies. In addition, donors that provided large lump sum payments to assist church-building had made their money in land speculation, business mergers, and trade. Mixed in with their philanthropy were the realities of giving in a material world because large donations increased one’s social status. Religion received a lion’s share of these donations because people invested in it the hope of ordering society and winning salvation. The creation of order in society involved obtaining property by legal means, even though the legal system privileged capitalism while advertising democracy. European and British settlers argued the illegitimacy of Aboriginal property claims by refusing to recognise the validity of the Aboriginal social and economic structure. The situation was no less complicated in the dealings negotiated between settlers and banking institutions. Because the members of a church-building committee knew that banks tended to foreclose on property in times of poor economies, it became essential for land to be legally acquired before a church’s construction began. The farm foreclosures in Ontario subsequent to the 1873 Depression were a poignant example of the misfortune visited upon mortgagees unable to meet their interest payments.217 The rising price of land was generally favourable to religious institutions on account of their long-term financial outlook even though the prices were subject to the  99 general uncertainty of price fluctuations. For instance, the value of the property at the corner of Bloor and Avenue Rd. in Toronto that had been acquired for the Anglican Church of the Redeemer (architects Smith and Gemmell, 1878) nearly doubled from its $10,000 purchase price only a decade prior. The increase was attributed to the “rapid enlargement and improvement of the city.”218 Land speculation and rising property values had become problematic for the Church of England in the Dominion even before Confederation. This impact was most apparent in the Anglican Church’s loss of the Clergy Reserves.219 The Clergy Reserves represented approximately 1.3 million acres of land, interspersed throughout the Dominion but consolidated in the Prairies, which had been set aside for the Protestant Church in the Constitution Act of 1791.220 Despite the recognized importance of religion in society, public opinion was generally unwilling to support the Church of England’s claim to millions of dollars worth of land.221 Despite decades of legislative and public battles over the Clergy Reserves, the situation had been settled by 1854 largely in the government’s favour. The lands were sold through the government’s agent, the Canada Company, but only a small portion of its revenue, £245,000, accrued to the combined coffers of the leading religious institutions in the Dominion.222 An editorial in The Church objected and lamented that: the Church of England in Canada [was] … deprived of her unquestionable rights, [thus] what ecclesiastical property in the empire is anywhere safe? Should her revenues be sacrificed in Canada, because a real or presumed majority demand it, can they, with some weight of argument and high moral influence be preserved in Ireland?223 The enforced sharing of the proceeds from the sale of the Clergy Reserves paralleled the negotiated unification of Confederation. The government’s political power enforced a  100 settlement on the Anglican Church’s potential ability to serve its members by arguing in favour of the ‘common interest’ of the general population in the Dominion.224 When the Clergy Reserves were rescinded the material expansion of the Anglican Church began to depend more fully upon funds received from specialized Anglican organizations in Britain including the Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge and the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts. However, these institutions eventually withdrew financial support causing the Anglican Bishop of Toronto John Strachan (1778-1867), for instance, to ask for money from local businesspeople in Toronto to finish the construction of St. James’ Cathedral. This put the bishop in a difficult position because he had earlier accused the laity of propagating a “monstrous robbery” by secularizing the Clergy Reserves.225 Despite the profound change to the revenue stream available to religious institutions, numerous new churches were built in Ontario and Manitoba. The rescission of the Clergy Reserves placed the Anglican Communion, no less than other denominations, in a precarious financial situation as a purchaser of the properties it believed were freely due. The amount of money expended on new church construction in the decades after official Confederation must have created the appearance of an ‘industry’ for church-building. It appeared this way to John Ross Roberston, editor of the Toronto Telegram, who commented that commercial endeavour was helping to build the Dominion into a Christian, and Picturesque, nation. His newspaper recorded the connection between taste, lifestyle, and churches in its description of St. Peter’s Anglican Church on Carlton: … a modern English Gothic church with such proportions and offsets that is rather picturesque in appearance. It partakes of the cleanliness and neatness of  101 that section of the city in which it is located. There is an assimilation of property and people… that determines the architectural condition of living. Neat cleanly and cultured people will have homes and surroundings correspondingly superior. The same rule applies to churches, to that even the outside appearance of a church edifice is…indicative of the kind of people who attend it or support it.226 3.1.4 Tariffs on Imported Books and Pattern Book Consumption The Government of Canada collected revenue from the wholesaling of land as well as from trade imbalances and tariffs. Protective tariffs on imported goods increased the government’s treasury even though there existed virtually no social programming to enhance the lives of its citizens.227 Instead, the tariffs were meant to encourage local manufacture, though results were mixed and rising imports continued apace.228 The protective tariffs placed on some categories of imported books did not appreciably affect the consumption of pattern books in Ontario, Manitoba, or other regions of Canada.229 The price of books in Ontario, for instance, marginally increased but it did not discourage consumption of imported pattern books nor did it encourage local production of them. Indeed, Ontario’s printing presses continued to print all manner of other printed mater including textbooks, newspapers, and travel journals; reading audiences in the Dominion expected that more ‘serious’ forms of knowledge came from reliable publishers in Britain and Europe. The libraries of Ontario’s architects and builders were lined with imported architectural reference material and treatises no less than pattern books. In the 1840s, the Kingston, Ontario builder-turned-architect William Coverdale (1828-84) had owned sixty-three pattern book publications on subjects covering civic, religious, and domestic building.230 Thirty years later, architects working in Ontario were still collecting pattern books. For instance, the library at the architectural partnership of William Storm and Fred  102 Cumberland contained an extensive suite of pattern books purchased between the 1840s and 70s. These books included the Ecclesiological Society’s Instrumenta Ecclesiastica (1847), Frank Wills’s Ancient English ecclesiastical architecture and its principles, applied to the wants of the church at the present day (1850), Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Open Timber Roofs (1849) and An Analysis of Gothick Architecture: Illustrated by a Series of Upwards of Seven Hundred Examples of Doorways, Etc. (1873), as well as, William Butterfield’s Elevations, Sections, and Details, of Saint John Baptist Church, at Shottesbrooke, Berkshire (1844) and James Fergusson’s Illustrated handbook of architecture (1855).231 This suite of books was produced in Britain. The British pattern books largely dispensed inspiration, education, and a system of British taste. The British system of taste upheld the social and economic privilege that Anglican church-builders associated with their ‘invention’ of Ecclesiological Gothic architecture. During and after the 1870s, the offices of William Storm (formerly Cumberland and Storm) began to invest in U.S. pattern books, including Bicknell’s Victorian Village (1873) and Edward Jenkins’ The Architect’s Legal Handbook (1880). The U.S. pattern books provided concrete design ideas, technical knowledge, and a connection to a large market for ecclesiastical architecture developing south of the Dominion’s border. A particularly interesting volume in the Cumberland/Storm library was Edward Ryde’s A General Text Book, for the Constant Use and Reference of Architects, Engineers, Surveyors, Solicitors, Auctioneers, Land Agents, and Stewards, in all their Several and Varied Professional Occupations: and for the Assistance and Guidance of Country Gentlemen and Others Engaged in the Transfer, Management, or Improvement of Landed Property: Containing Theorems, Formulae, Rules, and Tables in Geometry, Mensuration,  103 and Trigonometry (1854). Their ownership of this book clearly indicated that the firm’s services extended beyond architectural design to include property valuation. As late as the 1870s, even well known architects in Ontario and Manitoba needed to augment their income by acting as engineers and property valuators. 3.1.5 Church-Building and Commercial Expansion in Toronto, Ontario A significant factor in church-building processes in the Toronto area was the city’s commercial expansion that began between 1820 and 1840, and continued more or less unabated throughout the century.232 Toronto’s mercantile emphasis shifted from grain distribution to entrepreneurial activity, meaning that banking became a more important part of the economic and social terrain. For instance, the Bank of Upper Canada in Toronto (est. 1821) assisted the urban financial growth that created a pool of potential philanthropists willing to support local church-building enterprise. With a deeper investment support structure, many affluent Toronto neighbourhoods developed further from the urban industrial lands and closer to the centre of commerce. Church-building in Toronto paralleled the rise and fall of the Ontario economy because church leaders astutely followed local economies. During an economic peak in 1854, a correspondent of the Montreal Herald (1811-57) noted the “beauty of the principal streets [of Toronto] has been very greatly increased [because] St. James Church had been completed.”233 By the economic apex that started in 1870, Toronto believed itself graced with an important variety of architectural works from every major religious denomination. Leading up to that point, Anglicans built St. James’ Cathedral (King and Church St.; architect Fred Cumberland, 1850-54; tower architect: Henry Langley, 187074), Holy Trinity (Trinity Square; architect Henry Bower Lane, 1847), St. Stephen’s-in-  104 the-Fields (College St.; architect Thomas Fuller, 1858; re-built after fire by architect Henry Langley, 1865), St. Peter’s (Carlton St.; architects Gundry and Langley, 1865), and the Church of the Redeemer (Bloor and Avenue Rd.; architects Smith and Gemmell, 1878) in a few square miles either side of Yonge. St in Toronto. Presbyterians built Knox Church (Queen St. near Yonge; architect William Thomas, 1847), St. Andrew’s Church (King and Simcoe; architect William George Storm, 1874-75), and the second Cooke’s Church (Queen and Mutual St.; architect William Thomas, 1857), Leslieville Church (Queen and Carlaw St.; architect unknown, 1878), and Central Presbyterian Church (Grosvenor and Vincent St.; architects Gordon and Helliwell, 1877). Roman Catholics built St. Michael’s Cathedral (Bond and Shuter St.; architect William Thomas, 1848; tower architect Henry Langley, 1867-70), and St. Basil’s at St. Michael’s College (St. Joseph St.; architect William Hay, 1855-6). Not to be outdone, the Methodists built Metropolitan Methodist Church (Richmond St.; architect Henry Langley, 1870), Elm St. Methodist Church (Elm St.; architect unknown, 1862), Carlton St. Methodist Church (Carlton St.; architect William G. Storm, 1876), and Sherbourne St. Methodist Church (Sherbourne St.; architects Langley and Burke). The Baptist body built Jarvis Street Baptist Church (Jarvis and Gerrard St.; architect Edmund Burke, 1875). This list of mostly Neo-Gothic churches includes those Christian denominations representing the largest share of the population and, to remain chronologically consistent to the layout of the chapters of this thesis, excludes the numerous churches constructed after 1880.234 Each of the commencement dates of these construction projects in Toronto coincided with Ontario’s rising economic performance.235 Still, church-builders approached the construction of new churches pragmatically and not without a degree of  105 apprehension. These tensions generally evaporated after the churches were consecrated, a moment which signalled the congregation’s debt-free status. 3.1.6 Material Growth in Toronto after 1867 The material growth of the Anglican Church in Toronto no less than in other parts of Ontario and Manitoba had a financial component that was objectionable in principle to some of its worshippers. Nevertheless, the practice was chiefly condoned because churches needed money to survive. Anglican worshippers complained about the economic costs but accepted the rough balance of benefits and concessions. Congregations had to reconcile the idea that organized religion had a ‘price-tag’ while salvation was freely given. The cost of religion was most visible in the controversy over pew rental, which equated economic capital with preferential seating, social status, and superior sightlines to the altar. This was especially true in large churches with longitudinal-axes that seated six or eight hundred worshippers. In other words, wealthy individuals visibly expressed their social status by paying for visibly better seating arrangements than the poor could afford. The practice was normalized in society to the extent that the poorer classes sitting in the rear of St. James’ Anglican Cathedral in Toronto dare not whisper their discontent for fear of being heard.236 At the same time there was a growing movement to offer ‘free’ religion, reflected in the practice of offering seats in churches at no cost. Numerous small churches across Canada were built without pew rents. Even in Toronto, the church of Holy Trinity was built with the express purpose of opening the seats “free and unappropriated forever” because a donation of $5,000 from an anonymous lady in England stipulated it as such.237  106 Alongside the controversy over pew rents was the related but usually less recognised confluence of expense and social ritual that pertained to burial. 3.1.7 Case Study: The Burial Chapels of St. James-the-Less and the Toronto Necropolis The burial chapels of St. James-the-Less (1857-61) and the Toronto Necropolis (1872) served identical purposes and exhibited strikingly similar Neo-Gothic characteristics (figs. 3.8 and 3.9). Both chapels were characterized as High Victorian Gothic, an architectural fashion that marketed a subtly new kind of architectural massiveness and simplicity. High Victorian Gothic departed from the Neo-Gothic aesthetic offered by Pugin’s and the Eccleisologists’ archaeological Neo-Gothic thereby enabling its promoters, including the well-known British architect George Street, to appear to have re-engineered Neo-Gothic for a progressive church-building public. In a long lecture published in 1852 in the Ecclesiologist, Street referred to the progressiveness of High Victorian Gothic as ‘development’ in which he described a complicated suite of new ideas in proportion, simple ornament, European source material, and massing that challenged the archaeological precedent advocated by Pugin.238 Aspects of High Victorian Gothic were transmitted to Toronto particularly in the Anglican chapel of St. James-the-Less awarded to the architects Fred Cumberland and George Storm. This burial chapel was organized around the architectural principles Street had propounded regarding an aesthetic emphasis on horizontality. Cumberland and Storm emphasized the low walling at St. James-the-Less by creating a reciprocal relationship with the low rolling hills of the surrounding cemetery. In addition, the church’s streamlined exterior followed Street’s concept that the Neo-Gothic was malleable. The  107 design was innovative because of a mechanism that allowed the coffin to be raised and lowered through the floor of the chancel at the east end to an awaiting horse-drawn hearse. Aesthetically and structurally, a good comparison to St. James-the-Less is Street’s small church at Frisby, Lincolnshire (1858), which used freestone instead of the architect’s trademark polychromy. John Ross Robertson noted the characteristics of High Victorian Gothic at St. James-the-Less by describing, “the walls [sic] of smooth, though unornamental brick, [sic] pierced on each side with three or four spade-shaped orifices tapering funnel wise to the little trefoil windows.”239 Another influence on Cumberland and Storm was the writings of John Ruskin. This warned about the surface, structural, and machine-made modes of deception in architecture; respectively, these included the painted wood masquerading as marble, slim masonry details deceptively appearing to support weight, and metals supporting masonry where stone would suffice. Ruskin summed up the connections between beauty and taste by noting that in forgetting the principle of truth in architecture “lies half the dignity or decline of every art and act of man”.240 In addition, there was some interest in following medieval precedent by having variety in the design of the corbels, particularly those that support the interior wall posts. These corbels match across the nave and chancel but change as they progress toward from west to east. Strong comparisons exist between the St. James chapel and the parish church models contained in Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Parish Churches (1848) and George Truefitt’s Designs for Country Churches (1850)(fig. 3.10). The strong corner tower arrangement prominently displayed in the pattern books was echoed in the corner tower of St. James-the-Less, which was “strongly broad at the base and taper[ed]  108 gracefully to a thin spire.”241 Its design was not dissimilar to U.S. models including St. Paul’s Church, Brookline, Mass. and St. Thomas’ Church, Hanover, N.H (fig. 3.11). Similar architectural methods were applied to the Toronto Necropolis, built by Henry Langley. He used brick construction in a different a manner, but remained consistent to George Street’s published opinions about building town churches.242 Following Street’s advice, Langley used brick in order to achieve a symbiosis with neighbouring domestic and commercial buildings. Langley did not conform to Street’s constructional polychromy, multicoloured brick patterning, but a similar effect was achieved in the horizontal design used in the slate roof. The connection between the Toronto chapels and the British pattern books was intensified because of their common deployment and marketing of the Picturesque. Burial at St. James Anglican cemetery was expensive but the surroundings were beautifully landscaped. Burial customs meant that the “handsome little sanctuary, enshrined in a grove of low-growing oaks and maples and flowering shrubs…”243 came at a price that few people considered objectionable. People may have objected to renting one’s pew in church, but few people resisted the state-supported privatization of burial. By contrast, the burial grounds of the non-sectarian Necropolis were crowded, less bucolic – but ‘free’.244 Underlying the two chapels’ aesthetic similarities were profound social differences.245 Langley’s design for the Necropolis Chapel indicated the architect was aware of the newest designs in crematory chapels, which became the subject of a book by Albert C. Freeman’s entitled, Crematoria in Great Britain and Abroad (1906). A review of Freeman’s book appeared in The Canadian Architect and Builder (1888-1908)  109 periodical, noting that “the illustrated examples are English, European, and American”;246 the style was Neo-Gothic. The reviewer expressed the contemporary fears associated with disease, remarking that “the modern revival of cremation has a sanitary motive”.247 Worms, which propagated beyond the confines of the cemetery, were believed to carry disease so cremation was hailed as the sanitary alternative.248 However, the sanitization/sanctification of the dead came with a price tag. The reviewer of Crematoria expressed frustration and dissatisfaction with the added expense of so-called ‘modern’, ‘improved’, and ‘socially responsible’ burial. He resisted the traditional notion of the Picturesque Gothic Revival by arguing instead that Neo-Gothic was suited to crematory chapels because they each exhibited “gloom unenlightened by sentiment.”249 He intended to legitimize the claim that added burial expense associated with cremation was little more than ‘fashion’ designed to encourage people to part with their money. The reviewer claimed to read beyond the Picturesque to expose the commodification of modern burial by concluding, “one would like to revert to the old order of things and bury the urn”.250 The Toronto Necropolis may have been aesthetically British but its operation was economically and socially derivative of U.S. models. Crematoria’s reviewer even observed that U.S. pricing schemes were being used to sell crematory interment spaces in columbaria, such as those on the inside walls at the Toronto Necropolis. Fresh Ponds Crematory in New York, which charged “in the upper row all around the building $10 each, in the next row $15, and then $20 and $25” appeared to be the model adopted in Toronto.251  110 3.2  Financial Challenges for Anglican-Church Building in Ontario The Church Society of the Diocese of Toronto shaped the financial operations of  the Anglican churches in Ontario. The Church Society was an ecclesiastical corporation resembling the structure of secular bodies’ central boards and local committees. Its chief model in Britain was the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts. Businessmen sitting on the Church Society’s board formulated a plan to counteract the loss of revenue by commuting colonial missionaries’ salaries through the corporation in order to build up its ‘vested rights’.252 These ‘vested rights’ ensured a minimum amount of compensation when the Clergy Reserves were finally rescinded. The Anglican Church’s employment of a corporate strategy indicated how finance was the “door through which the laity entered the inner courts of the church”.253 The corporate model adopted by religious institutions also involved procuring short and long-term credit. Short-term credit helped congregations pay builders and suppliers during the years that pew rents or donations accumulated to pay down principal and interest. Part of the reason that Anglican building programs became more complicated after 1840 was the availability of debt financing that used land as loan collateral.254 The availability of short-term finance, from either private or banking sources, meant that building committees had time to consider aesthetics more fully. Property played a significant role in these developments. Before the union of the Upper and Lower Canadas in 1840, the Colonial Office had restricted the use of land to secure loans in the Dominion fearing that agencies might finance industrial growth that would damage British enterprise.255 The coincidence of several factors culminated in the issuance of  111 credit secured against land in the Dominion.256 Religious organizations began to take advantage of the new policies. The economic value of usable acreage in Ontario and Manitoba, for instance, changed when property owners began borrowing against their land.257 In addition, landowners – including religious institutions – deepened their identity with the land once property began to serve as collateral for loan capital. This capital routinely exceeded the value of the property acting as collateral for several reasons. First, churches were considered excellent credit risks because lenders imagined Anglican churches to be backed by the considerable resources of the Church of England. Second, and perhaps more importantly, there was a general belief in the future value of property in urban Ontario and Manitoba even though the Canada Company and other agents were encountering some difficulties in selling rural plots. The situation is described by the example of the small Anglican congregation building St. Peter’s church on Carlton Ave. in Toronto that procured a mortgage of $3,700 in 1864 on property that cost them $700.258 On the other hand, the myth of financially secure churches was periodically tested. For instance, in 1878 the Central Presbyterian Church in Toronto accumulated such large debt, amounting to $30,000 from building its church and schoolhouse, that the congregation was faced with ruin. The church’s pastor left for New Jersey and a congregation that built him a manse (resident home) costing $15,000. Nearly a decade later, Central Presbyterian still had a “debt on the church in the shape of a mortgage held by the Star Life Assurance Company, London, England, amounting to £5,000 sterling” which drew interest of six percent and necessitated the congregation to raise $110 per week in order to meet its expenses.259  112 To avoid these sorts of problems, Anglican church-building committees used their personal influence with bankers. These privileged connections are illustrated by the following biographies of some of St. James’ Cathedral building-committee members, notably John Beverley Robinson, Frederick Widder, Thomas Helliwell, Peter Paterson, and Charles Albert Berczy. John Beverley Robinson (1791-1863) was a respected lawyer, judge and conservative politician. He sat as the cathedral’s building committee chair. As the ‘unofficial figure-head’ of the ‘Family Compact’ Robinson used his privilege to develop close personal ties with the Anglican bishop of Toronto, John Strachan, as well as, the Lieutenant Governor Sir Peregrine Maitland (1777-1854). Frederick Widder (1801-1865) became an official of the British land and colonizing venture, the Canada Company, upon his immigration from England. Active in the St. George’s Society and lay vice-president of the Anglican Diocesan Church Society, he also became involved in railway promotion and brought the Canada Company’s province-wide operations under his control in Toronto. Thomas Helliwell (1795-1862) was a successful merchant of Yorkshire descent who developed brewery and milling businesses, founding Todmorden Mills in Toronto. With his son, Thomas Jr., he contributed to the commercial development of the Don Valley and the Toronto wharf through their ownership of waterfront lots. Peter Paterson (1807-1883) was a merchant and capitalist of Scots origin who owned a successful hardware and dry goods business in Toronto. He incorporated the British American Fire and Life Assurance Co. (1834), founded the Consumer’s Gas Co. (1847), developed the Canada Permanent Building and Savings Society (1855, later the Canada Permanent Mortgage Co.), held directorship of the Bank of Upper Canada (1861), and was active in the St. Andrew’s Society. Charles Albert Berczy (1794-1858),  113 born in Newark, Niagara-on-the-Lake, Upper Canada, was involved in business, law, and politics. During and after the 1837 Rebellion, Berczy had been employed by Lieutenant Governor Sir Francis Bond Head to provide correspondence about the designs of foreign and domestic enemies. He was director of the Bank of Canada, president of the Toronto Building Society, and founder of the Toronto, Simcoe, and Lake Huron Rail-Road Co.260 The list of these accomplishments indicates the Anglican Church’s close relationship with the new commercial practices forming society. 3.2.1 The Context of Re-Constructing Toronto’s St. James Cathedral Church-building enterprise in Toronto expanded and consolidated in tandem with the local commercial initiatives. Historically, the growth of Toronto’s commercial sector up to the 1870s resulted from a combination of speculative and mercantile endeavours, both of them intimately related to the railway connecting Ontario to the western regions and northern U.S.261 Successful speculative investment brought faster returns and astute businessmen were quick to recognise which sorts of gambles to take.262 For instance, owning railway company shares was not as lucrative an investment as owning businesses that supplied railway construction. The railway’s suppliers routinely overcharged, causing every mile of Canadian track to exceed U.S. costs by nearly 85%.263 Railway managers often overpaid for services and supplies because of the pressure to complete contracts on, or ahead, of schedule. Public scrutiny of rail projects, not always favourable in nature, contributed to the pressure to speed construction at any cost and resulted in some questionable dealings. For instance, the railway contractor Samuel Zimmerman, whom John Ross Robertson celebrated as the hero that built 120 miles of the Great Western track before his accidental death in the Desjardins Canal  114 disaster in 1857, purposefully slowed work on the Great Western main line in order to negotiate a $470,000 bonus to be paid to him for its timely completion.264 An additional scandal at the Great Western that was peripherally connected to church-building included a $10,000 bribe accepted by the railway’s chief engineer and former architect of St. James’ Anglican Cathedral, Frederick Cumberland.265 The taint of scandal ruined Cumberland’s engineering career and prevented his return to the architectural profession. Governments promised economic development by promoting ‘progress’ through the railway expansion. The image of the railway’s social benefits was publicly accepted even though most railroads went bankrupt before initial investors were even re-paid their principal.266 CPR guidebooks made locomotives appear eternal even though design styles changed every few years. The pattern books did the same with church imagery. For instance, church-towers were non-liturgical architectural forms that the books advertised as an eternal symbol of religion even though their designs fluctuated with current fashions.267 For instance, the report on a new Anglican church in Brampton Ontario, published in 1854 in the Anglo-American Magazine, focused almost exclusively on the building’s 80- foot tower by noting its “bold and fearless outline, expressive… of dignity and humility [and]… strength”.268 This image of strength was contradicted periodically by the Anglican Church’s assertions of being in economic ‘crisis’. Church towers were important social icons, though they tended to be left incomplete because of the lack of funds. The belief in the integrity of the Anglican faith and the visual impact of church towers remained unspoiled by the lack of towers brought to completion. Thus, there remains the question of the measurable influence on society of completed church-towers. In other words, to what degree could one measure the social  115 theories revolving around Jeremy Bentham’s panoptic prison, no less than the threat of damnation everlasting, for their true social effect? In some sense the question is moot because faith – like taste – sustained its potency among those already converted, but a deeper analysis is nevertheless worth pursuing.269 For this reason, the presence of St. James’ Cathedral at the corner of King and Church Streets, opened in 1853 twenty years before the completion of its massive tower, represented an imaginary ‘clean’ Toronto that existed in principle if not in fact. St. James’ was situated a few blocks north of a sector of the city that religious authorities thought needed supervision: Toronto’s first wharf. In the 1850s, the Grand Trunk Railway expansion brought immigration and commercial goods traffic to Toronto but it also brought what proper society termed ‘undesirable’ people and smuggled goods.270 Low-cost dwellings and drab merchant shops (whose landlord was none other than the Anglican Church) extended north of the wharf and surrounded the broad, manicured church grounds. The affluent residences stretched further north of the cathedral along tree-lined Jarvis and Sherbourne Streets. The cathedral’s space appeared to be encroached upon by this ‘undesirable’ element, which the church benefited from financially. The cathedral was, thus, situated between affluent, established Torontonians and many poor immigrants, especially those from Ireland, travelling in steerage on ships arriving in the wharf. The poor became the cheap labour manufacturing, in some cases, the expensive goods that collectively helped to maintain the affluence of many Anglican families for several generations. The cathedral of St. James’ represented affluent society, despite the official rhetoric that religion was the preserve of the masses. The cathedral was the seat of Bishop  116 John Strachan’s (1839-1867) Diocese of Toronto, where Synod affairs that signalled religious union and self-governance began in 1853.271 By 1874, the completion of the tower and spire marked a significant point in Torontonians’ identification with the economies in major European and American cities. The metaphoric ‘view’ from St. James’s tower allowed Torontonians to see their city, and themselves, in the cosmopolitan manner they had imagined was true. The considerable forces of religion and economy, in modernity, intersected metaphorically at the church tower, especially in terms of identity-making. The following case study probes the visual connections between short-term credit finance and the civic symbolism of the church-tower. 3.2.2 Case Study: St. James’ Cathedral, Toronto During Toronto’s Great Fire of 1849, an ember had ignited the wooden spire of St. James’ Church causing it to fall into the body of the cathedral. Within two weeks, the congregation organized a new building committee, which outlined and debated several issues about the cathedral’s re-construction.272 At issue in building committee meetings was the proposed sale of the churchyard located along King Street for commercial development.273 With $5,000 insurance money matched by congregants’ donations, the building committee still needed significantly more funds.274 The cathedral’s re-construction was relatively rapid; the nave was completed in 1852, well in advance of the 1857 recession.275 However, the internal debates over architect, cost, and design showed that the construction process was not straightforward. The re-building efforts at St. James’ became a locus of identification even for nonAnglican Torontonians. In February 1850, Bishop John Strachan tried to auction eight city lots on King Street owned by the church, measuring 26 feet by 120 feet, without the  117 permission of the church’s board.276 The auction was blocked by a collection of incensed citizens, many of which had no religious affiliation aside from the belief in the sanctity of burial in churchyards. The building committee backed by considerable support in the secular community opted instead for saving money by re-using the burned cathedral’s foundation.277 Architecturally, the re-use of a burned foundation was risky. So the wellrespected Toronto architect William Thomas was contracted to pronounce the soundness of the foundation, thereby leaving the graves undisturbed.278 The scenario explains how the Neo-Gothic cathedral of St. James’ has the proportions of a Georgian church. Significant cost overruns threatened to bankrupt the church because the building committee persisted in constructing a church that the congregation could not afford. The interpretation of the term ‘consecration’ was preventing, in the mind of Bishop Strachan, the ‘legitimate’ sale of the churchyard. The opposition to the bishop’s plan to move the graveyard was, in his own words, a source of ‘irritation’.279 To rally public support for the sale of St. James’s churchyards, Bishop Strachan published and widely distributed a pamphlet in 1850 that illustrated his pragmatic approach to addressing the financial shortfall associated with building the new cathedral.280 In the pamphlet, the Bishop argued that the preservation of consecrated land was less important than the funding of a new, prominent cathedral worthy of the prestige of the Anglican Church in Canada.281 He further argued against public burial within the city limits by noting “public opinion, as well as, the law were against burying in churches or cities; and, being injurious to health”.282 To legitimize his position the bishop argued that burial in the city was invented by modern custom and not theology or hygiene and consequently he wanted the graves moved beyond the confines of the city. The pamphlet  118 prompted building committee member ‘Bramhill’ to state that consecrated ground could not be unconsecrated for commercial purposes.283 In reality, redistributing the graves beyond the city limits was not possible because economic growth made the city limits unstable, shifting, and constantly expanding. Bishop Strachan also noted the link between the invention of new customs and the transience of fashion. Essentially, he claimed that the public taste already concurred with the removal of the graves, which gave his printed public address the quality of a decree rather than a public plea. Clearly, the letter showed how Bishop Strachan expected that religious rank and privilege could influence social and economic capital. He intimated that his authority permitted the de-consecration of the churchyard, as long as the dead were carefully removed. Furthermore, he stated that the churchyard ought to be sold because all available space was already allotted.284 The bishop was undeterred by the prospect that he might be undermining religious principles for the immediate interests of his cathedral. His logic serves to underline what might be termed religious real-estate. The bishop defended his position in print by claiming that his congregants cared less for civic justice than the appointment of their own pews. When one congregant complained that his new pew was smaller and poorly located in the nave, the architect, Fred Cumberland was called upon to produce a letter illustrating the favourable appointment of the new pews.285 However, Bishop Strachan failed to fully consider that religious no less than secular politics held the public interest but newspapers benefited from amplifying scandal. Bishop Strachan had to compromise on the design and location of his new cathedral due to the scandal that surrounded his desire to sell off the churchyards.  119 Several architects competed for the commission. Fred Cumberland had been selected ahead of other well-respected architects including Frank Wills, William Thomas, Kivas and John Tully, John Ostell, and U.S. resident Gervase Wheeler, all of whom were British-trained immigrants.286 However, Cumberland struggled to retain the commission because Bishop Strachan attempted to have him replaced by Montreal architect George H. Smith, who had not even participated in the initial competition.287 The Bishop’s belief that Divine providence could overcome economic problems put him in league with Smith, who had suggested building a larger cruciform cathedral. Pragmatically, the Bishop preferred Smith’s layout. The larger cruciform plan would have added considerably to the old church’s 2000 seat capacity. Smith’s plan was achievable only by offsetting building expense with the sale of the churchyard. It was ultimately too ambitious so that Cumberland’s plan, with modifications, was adopted.288 Cumberland’s plan involved a more than moderate use of British and European models in addition to U.S. patterns where the silhouette was dependent upon a strong western tower. The angle tower arrangement would have been unacceptable in a cathedral because of its associations with parish church models. Bishop Strachan’s troubles extended beyond the immediate concerns of building his cathedral and included the loss of the lands known as the Clergy Reserves.289 He wrote disparagingly to the Right Hon. Lord John Russell, member of British Parliament and Reform advocate, that, “we [Anglicans] have fallen into a state so extraordinary and humbling in a British colony.”290 The bishop’s position that “the Romish Church has increased in efficiency, wealth, and importance, with the growth of the Colony”291 was prescient considering the architectural advancements at St. Michael’s Roman Catholic  120 Cathedral. By the mid 1850s, the colonial government of Canada and the British Foreign Office rescinded the offer of monies accruing from the sale of the Clergy Reserves to the Anglican Church. These were massive tracts of land in Upper Canada and other provinces in British North America set aside to fund religious institutions – which for Strachan was the Anglican Church alone. Feeling defeated in 1854, the bishop wrote complaining about unfair treatment but resigned himself to working in tandem with other denominations.292 Losing the Clergy Reserves came at an inopportune moment, just as the bishop was completing St. James’, because he was counting upon some of the revenue to pay for construction. Tenders from builders that had been advertised in The British Colonist, The Church, and The Patriot returned bids that were 50% higher than expected. The contracting firm of Metcalfe, Wilson, and Forbes supplied the lowest bid at £16,500. In actuality, costs overran to £18,803.17.7, leaving the bishop with a £9,335.17.7 deficit, for an unimpressive building – very unlike a cathedral and not at all what either the bishop or the building committee wanted. Increasing the level of insult, the English religious press pronounced St. James’ inferior to the design for Montreal’s Christ Church by the late architect Frank Wills. For instance, the Ecclesiologist journal wrote: Altogether Montreal Cathedral will, when completed, mark an epoch in transatlantic ecclesiology. It will be the largest completed cathedral in America of our communion; for though the new one at Toronto would, if completed, be larger, it is as yet unfinished, and on (we believe) a much inferior and less correct plan.293 The reference to a “much inferior and less correct plan” was clearly pointed at St. James’ layout which took on the proportions of its Georgian – not Neo-Gothic – predecessor.  121 Although Bishop Strachan eventually adopted a conciliatory position regarding the loss of the Clergy Reserves, at least in public, there were others in his circle of influence who were combative. that did not relax their ire. For instance, in addressing the congregation at St. Peter’s Church, Springfield, Elgin County the Anglican clergyman Henry C. Cooper tried to shame the members into action by creating comparisons with Roman Catholics who he claimed were united in resistance against the losses of the Reserves. Without religion he predicted the colonial society’s demise, as follows: … the Romanists will not passively yield up their church’s rights and properties. They are a united body; they acknowledge no bond of union so abiding and binding as their church. For it and its endowments they will sacrifice everything; colonial union – British connexion – civil peace: and … we may see the fearful forms of political convulsion, intestine anarchy and strife, - the dislocation of the whole frame of our social fabric – the probable dismemberment of our colonial empire.294 The threat of civil uprising involving Roman Catholics was not far off the mark, as religious and cultural tolerance was ebbing in Toronto, and perhaps especially within St. James’ mixed congregation. Yet, and as a microcosm of the larger social organization, the building committee’s British, Irish, Scots and Canadian-born members managed to complete their task despite such cultural and political disagreement. They behaved as a collective out of the interests of religion but economy often provided the potential for internal disagreement. Moreover, the cobbling together of a collective approach involved the suppression of violence stemming from coercion, rather than the building of consensus. Periodic violent clashes had proven un-containable. In 1852, more than a decade before the Fenian raids of 1866, the Anglo-American Magazine reported: that in Hamilton a party of Orangemen who had assisted at the demonstration in Toronto, were attacked by a hostile body”.295  122  During the attack, an Orangemen called Thomas Campbell stabbed and killed a Roman Catholic named McPhillips. On account of the disturbance, the dead McPhillips was denied the rites of burial by the Roman Catholic Bishop of Toronto, Armand-FrancoisMarie Comte de Charbonnel (1802-91). While Toronto newspapers used factional disputes to increase readership, the press was also cultivating the town’s identity around architectural accomplishments. The reporting of civic violence and civic architectural development fashioned Toronto’s complex identity. On 7 August, 1874, a letter to editor of the Globe newspaper expressed admiration for the tower and spire of St. James’s Cathedral, by making positive comparisons with British and European church architecture. The writer produced a table illustrating the various heights of European cathedral spires, among which St. James ranked sixteenth behind the leading example - Strasbourg cathedral’s 466 ft. spire. At 309 feet, Toronto’s Anglican cathedral was given the pride of exceeding, by one foot, Britain’s Norwich cathedral.296 In a further expression of civic pride, the report stated that: …although the spire of St. James Cathedral in this city is not so high as quite a number in Europe, it is sixteen feet higher than any structure in North America, ninety-six feet higher than the highest in Montreal, and seventy feet higher than any in Toronto. Let us hope that an edifice so lofty, and so much admired already, will in due time, with its expected illuminated clock, be brought to a thorough completion, and that no loss of life or serious harm will be sustained therewith.297 The report demonstrated Toronto’s rivalry with Montreal, the latter having edged ahead in economic growth due to the importance of the St. Lawrence transportation system.298 Situations reversed after the joint U.S. and Canadian initiative in 1895 deep dredged the  123 St. Lawrence, opening up the Great Lakes to transatlantic shipping. This proved to be an initial stage in Toronto’s economic advancement. Such shifts in economic power were manifested in the rising skyline of Toronto. A major episode in this combination of religious, cultural, and economic ambition was the construction of the tower and spire of St. James’. In dramatic fashion, Toronto could even claim affiliation with medieval European tragedy because a fall from the scaffolding at St. James’ tower claimed the life of a worker in 1839. Few Torontonians likely knew that the master mason William of Sens fell from the scaffolding at Canterbury Cathedral while inspecting construction progress in 1179.299 However, many Torontonians read the Illustrated London News and thus knew about the loss of life connected to the construction of major architectural monuments in modern Britain and Europe. 3.2.3 Strategies, Tactics, and Surveillance: Completing the Tower at St. James’ Anglican Cathedral Anglicans only slightly outnumbered the Roman Catholics in the 1860s in Toronto. Census records show there were 14,125 Anglicans, 12,135 Roman Catholics, 1,288 Baptists, 525 Methodists, and 1,231 Presbyterians.300 Despite the reality of the population figures, Anglicans believed in a ‘chain of being’ that placed themselves at the top, and therefore worthy of accruing social and economic benefits. In the summer of 1867 the Anglican brethren leaving a quiet mass at St. James’ Cathedral (fig. 3.12) must have bristled at the celebratory cheers a few blocks north where the Roman Catholic cathedral of St. Michael’s had just consecrated its tower (Bond and Shuter St.)(fig. 3.13). By comparison, St. James’ tower sprouted no more than the height of its nave (fig. 3.14). This moment in their interdenominational rivalry signalled the rise of the tallest church spire ever built in Canada and, for a short time in the 1870s, North America. A new  124 building committee was struck in order to outstrip the dominance of St. Michael’s tower. Amplifying the rivalry, the committee at St. James hired St. Michael’s architect Henry Langley whose talent helped the Anglican cathedral surpass its Roman Catholic rival by 56 feet.301 Perched atop St. James’ Neo-Gothic spire in 1874, an observer with a sharp eye – and a little faith – might believe Britain’s cathedrals were visible across the Atlantic.302 Indeed, a sense of ‘imagined community’ continued to link Canada with Britain well beyond official Confederation in 1867.303 The phenomenon was particularly strong in church architecture, in which Torontonians continued to believe paralleled similar stylistic movements in Britain. Prominent social and political figures connected to the established Church believed they could rely upon religion to reinforce social prestige and power. These people included the Governor-General of Upper Canada, Lord Durham (John Lambton 1792-1840) and his successor, and son-in-Law, Lord Elgin (James Bruce 1811-1863). Lord Durham’s Report to the British Crown on the political state of the Dominion (1838), among other things, suggested that the French cultural issue be settled by creating a union of Upper and Lower Canada in order to place the French in minority.304 At the same time, one could neither miss the nearness of the U.S., nor avoid the complaints that American architects were snapping up Canadian architectural competitions.305 At issue was the way in which the Dominion was going to assert its identity in architectural terms that differed from the United States, while also being more differentiated from Britain. The nascent issue of the Dominion’s identity was being worked out in architectural terms in tandem with the same debates in the socio-cultural and political arenas.  125 3.2.4 Religious Dissention in Ontario’s Social Structure after Confederation In the Dominion, the Anglican Church objected to sharing its advantage with other denominations, especially the evangelical Methodist congregations which were gaining followers. The rise of Methodism contributed to additional interdenominational rivalries that indicated the multiplicity of identities forming the Dominion. In Canada, there was no truly dominant ideology, even though the Anglicans believed that Canada was a ‘Dominion’ under their preserve and specific form of worship. Of course, the reasons for interdenominational rivalries were doctrinal but there was also a strong economic element involved because churches in the Dominion knew their financial growth depended upon attracting more followers. Interdenominational rivalry was serious business in the decades immediately after official Confederation while Anglican, Methodist, and some Catholic groups tried to gain an upper hand in the formation of Canadian society. For instance, the Anglican Church restricted the growth of Methodist churches by objecting to that Church’s consecration of marriages. The Anglicans’ reasoning was that Methodism was too communal.306 Thus, the Anglican Church treated its recognised status as a private resource, an un-official ‘compact’ with the leading members of the Dominion’s society. Anglican groups believed they were instrumental in forming the important parts of the Dominion’s social structure even though Anglican privilege was resisted on many fronts. When Methodist churches adopted Neo-Gothic architecture they divested themselves of the traditional Meeting-House style of church architecture. The change in architecture reflected the acceptance of Methodism as a reputable religious sect. This coincided roughly with the re-organization of Methodist faith from its previous focus on  126 the conversion of sinners to its new focus on the salvation of the saved.307 The Toronto chapter of the Methodist Church, for instance, built a massive cathedral-like church in 1870, which coincided with doctrinal transformation focused on individual spiritual experience. 3.2.5 Comparative Case Study: The Parsonage for Toronto’s ‘Temple to Methodism’ Metropolitan Methodist Church (1867-70) was built on the corner of Bond and Shuter Streets by architect Henry Langley as a visible challenge to Anglican social dominance in Toronto. As of the 1850s, Methodists began to believe that Upper Canada was no longer an Anglican preserve. Methodists took the government’s distancing itself from the established Church (exemplified by the rescission of the Clergy Reserves in 1854) as an optimistic sign, on the surface at least. The major changes in Methodism happened in connection with the reorganization of Methodist principles in the 1860s and 70s, which changed its spiritual objective from the conversion of sinners to the salvation of the faithful. The re-structure brought Methodists chiefly under one consolidated Wesleyan banner, having previously held “the same doctrines theologically but differing on points of church government.”308 The changes initiated optimism among Methodist officials. The Rev. William Morley Punshon, a trustee of the Metropolitan Methodist Church in 1870, projected this optimism with the claim that their organization had replaced the Church of England as the ‘real’ Canadian establishment.309 All that remained to do was construct an appropriately optimistic building to reflect the robust apparatus of the Methodist Church. Metropolitan Methodist Church was not only a monumental building capable of accommodating 1,900 worshippers, but it was also constructed using the plain exterior  127 walling typical of Britain’s latest architectural fashion, High Victorian Gothic. Moreover, its prominent tower rivalled the Anglican Church’s architectural accoutrements. As the markers of public taste, the pattern book by Joseph Crouch and Edmund Butler Churches, Mission Halls and Schools for Non-Conformists (1901) illustrated the same sort of NeoGothic that the Methodists had adopted for their parsonage. Since the cost of a building was a benchmark of status, it is worth looking at how the expense of building Metropolitan Methodist was worked into consecration announcements printed in local newspapers. The church had cost an unprecedented $100,000. It claimed to have one of the best church organs in the country worth $6,500 as well as advanced gas-heating and lighting technology that cost $5,000. Using print media to advertise a building’s architectural accomplishments justified by their cost was an old Anglican strategy used in Britain. In Toronto, Methodist officials used expenditure to create prestige, resulting in the public’s nicknaming of the building as the ‘Cathedral of Methodism’. The nickname was a derogatory reference meant to discredit the rise of Methodist power above what the ordinary public believed was that Church’s station in society. To counter such public criticism, the Toronto Telegram made architectural and cultural comparisons with British churches, remarks usually reserved for the Church of England in Canada.310 A significant portion of the project’s costs included a $50,000 parsonage to accommodate the minister and his family. The expense rivalled those built by Anglican and Roman Catholic congregations, illustrating how Methodists also believed that social privilege ought to be accruing to them in Toronto. The design of the parsonage and its construction received significant attention in print media. The Canadian Architect and  128 Builder newspaper published illustrations of the parsonage, designed by the noted architectural firm of Sproatt and Rolph. Newspaper reports noted that the architects had been given carte blanche to build, decorate, and supply absolutely everything needed for the equipment of the building as a home. The public’s attention on the project was stimulated because its patron was Daniel Massey a seventh generation member of the wealthy family of farm equipment manufactures (later Massey-Fergusson), a family whose wealth and privilege rivalled the name Eaton. Mirroring the colonial apparatus, Massey not only paid for the entire building but he also established a fund to subsidize the minister’s salary.311 3.2.6 Church-Building and the Architectural Profession in Manitoba In June 1897 the Canadian Architect and Builder published a photograph of the recently consecrated Anglican church of Holy Trinity, Winnipeg built by one of the town’s local architects Charles H. Wheeler (1838-1917).312 The decision to present Holy Trinity in a photograph rather than a lithograph put religion and technical reproduction together in a new and disruptive way. The reproducibility of photographs and their dissemination in the public domain stripped away the remaining formal vestiges of spirituality associated with Picturesque lithographs. Mesmerized by the spectacle of photographic representation, viewers of pictures of churches seemed oblivious to the way reproduction liquidated the authority of the Church through a break with traditional representation. It is ironic that the Gothic Revivalists who wrote so extensively on the archaeological authority of their architecture failed to notice that the reproducibility of church imagery in the pattern books actually disrupted the mystical value of religion. They did not appear to notice that the commercial practices around the pattern books,  129 which normalized the marketing of taste, was also unravelling the threads of religion woven into the fabric of society.313 In part, this occurred because pattern books and architectural magazines, including the Canadian Architect and Builder, represented the plurality in architectural education and professionialization.314 It was not an easy matter for architects to build a ‘profession’ since this necessitated putting aside their personal differences in favour of creating a self-regulating organization. The architectural historian Kelly Crossman has shown how uneasy collectives formed among Ontario’s architects in the last decades of the nineteenth century.315 In Winnipeg in 1906 Charles Wheeler assumed the vice-presidency of the newly formed Manitoba Association of Architects (MAA).316 The creation and maintenance of fee schedules was the association’s chief function.317 These organizations were expected to control the way professionals and workers competed, though individual action in the workplace resisted institutional strategies. The Canadian Architect and Builder championed the professionalization of architectural practice. It published favourable reports on the activities of architectural associations. The magazine’s editors believed that the professional organization of architects, the construction of a robust society, and the search for a national style of architecture were interrelated. The situation was expressed by a correspondent to that newspaper who wrote: Increasing knowledge will add to the number of those who appreciate and desire good work, and their sensitiveness in matters of good taste will incite the producers to higher efforts… It will not be long, I venture to prophecy, before public opinion will declare itself definitely and decidedly, insisting upon grace and refinement both in our public buildings and in our important thoroughfares. Given such an opportunity, we may feel confident that our national architecture will not fail under the test, but will reflect the highest and noblest qualities of our race.318  130  This process was complicated by the democratization of architectural education. In this process the ‘heroic’ architect of a past generation, such as Sir Christopher Wren, Matthew Bloxam, and John Henry Parker, became a literary personality. Readers invested in themselves the ‘innate’ quality of discerning taste, once they became fully acquainted with the rhetoric in the pattern books. Charles Wheeler was also an astute observer of the growth of the architectural profession in Canada, noting its relation to growth in other sectors not the least of which was the railway. In his published accounts of development in Winnipeg, he noted the advance of ‘balloon frame’ house construction as part of a “steady architectural progress” coinciding with the “approach of the Canadian Pacific Railway”.319 The connections between civic development and economy were duly noted: Architecture in Northwest Canada, and particularly in Manitoba…has undoubtedly passed its ‘happy stage’, has gone through its teens, and is now only waiting to develop into vigorous manhood with the advent of settlers and capitalists.320 The planning of new streets, sanitary plumbing, as well as scientific heating and ventilation for many new developments in: public buildings, churches, schools, stores, and residences [that sprang up because] scores of architects from all over the world hung their ‘shingles’ up to the light of day.321 Alongside the ‘advent of capitalist progress’ Wheeler situated his own architectural achievements by noting the completion of Winnipeg’s Holy Trinity Church. Wheeler’s discourse also touched on settlement expansion as a factor in the possession and erasure of Indigenous Peoples, though he clearly saw its effect as progressive rather than being in any way problematical:  131 Thirty or thirty-five years ago Winnipeg was an aggregation of log houses surrounding Fort Garry, an Hudson’s Bay Company post on the plains of Manitoba and the territories stretching away for nearly a thousand miles westward to the foot hills of the Rocky Mountains, uninhabited, except by Indians and halfbreeds.322 He supported the idea that the west was a vast ‘emptiness’ with minerals and land available for exploitation, a subject that will be addressed more fully in Chapter 3. He also indirectly reacted to the Riel Rebellion of 1870, which we will see was chiefly about property ownership in and around Manitoba. 3.2.7 Case Study: Holy Trinity Anglican Church, Winnipeg, Manitoba The Winnipeg architect Charles H. Wheeler did not initially win the competition for the city’s Anglican Holy Trinity Church. However, in 1883 he was successful following a second round of tenders based on a reduced budget of $60,000 (fig. 3.15). The church was built under the supervision of Archdeacon John McLean (later, Bishop of Saskatchewan). Wheeler’s design bears some comparison with the church built in Addiscombe (Surrey) by Edward Buckton Lamb, though the exact connection has yet to be established. Lamb was an architect whose “frank scorn for the ritualistic planning of churches” caused the Ecclesiological Society to label him ‘rogue’.323 However, in western Canada Wheeler did not attract the negative criticism associated with Lamb in Britain. It is worth briefly examining Wheeler’s situation. Wheeler was a typical character in the history of Canadian architecture, because he began his architectural career as a carpenter, bricklayer, and stonemason. Like William Coverdale in Kingston he learned his trade from pattern books.324 At Holy Trinity, Wheeler experimented at Holy Trinity with a hammer-beam roof system in order to span a width of more than thirty-five feet, possibly based on reading Frank E. Kidder’s  132 Building Construction and Superintendence: Trussed Roofs and Roof Trusses (1895).325 Triangular roof trusses were standard load-bearing features of roof construction but the hammer-beam roof system allowed for the creation of open timber ceilings that revealed the beauty of the timber roof. Raphael and J. Arthur Brandon’s Open Timber Roofs popularized the aesthetics of the open timber roofs in the 1850s. In Kidder’s Trussed Roofs and Roof Trusses U.S. models showed the hammer-beam at work, including its depiction in a photograph of the interior of a church by American architect C.C. Haight.326 Despite some traditional design choices made at Holy Trinity, the church represented ‘progress’ in several other ways. The church’s cruciform design built of Stoney Mountain limestone replaced a succession of two plain wood frame churches built in 1868 and 1875. The building’s new situation at the junction of Donald and Graham Streets was presumed an improvement over the previous location at the corner of Portage and Main Streets, which was considered undesirable for a church because new commercial development had changed the social composition of the area. 3.3  About Church Pattern Books and Pattern Book Economy, After Confederation Several factors of economy influenced the production of pattern books. Mail order  purchasing was factored into the production of the pattern books and this was evident in the books’ exceptionally long titles. The title was often the only means by which a purchaser could imagine a book’s contents. Thus, the title A Manual of Gothic Mouldings: A Practical Treatise on their Formations, Gradual Development, Combinations, and Varieties; with full Directions for Copying them, and for Determining  133 their Dates (1845) by Frederick Apthorp Paley divulged book’s specific subject and announced that its pages provided the reader with a practical skill. The exchanges of economic, symbolic, and cultural capital that occurred through the sale of the pattern books did not necessarily guarantee an author’s architectural success. For instance, the contemporary British architects George Truefitt (1825-1902) and George Edmund Street (1824-81) each produced illustrated architecture books of churches that demonstrated fine draughtsmanship, the privilege of Continental travel, and an ability to ‘think’ in gothic. Truefitt’s images in particular demonstrate his belief that the grammar of gothic architecture lay in one’s ability to work decorative details into holistic design of churches. However, Truefitt’s architectural details and European churches in Sketches on the Continent (1847) (fig. 3.16) and Designs for Country Churches (1850) loses some of its ‘naïve’ appeal in comparison to Street’s seemingly ‘mature’ visual and verbal rhetoric in Brick and Marble in the Middle Ages: Notes of a Tour in the North of Italy (1855), both architects published not later than their early thirties. Truefitt had a more moderate career, dealing mainly with domestic construction. Street became a cornerstone of Neo-Gothic ecclesiastical, commercial, and civic production. Some of Street’s several books included monographs of his architectural practice, Some Account of the Church of St. Mary, Stone near Dartford (1860) and The Cathedral of Holy Trinity, Commonly Called Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, an Account of the Restoration of the Fabric (1882) as well as his architectural travel book, Some Account of Gothic Architecture in Spain (1869). Street’s books demonstrate established reputation, understood as taste, which allowed him to publish on virtually any subject, no matter how specific.  134 Once a pattern book was produced it took on a social life of its own that was intimately involved in taste. Taste was regarded as a commodity because readers picked out the bits of designs that suited their individual and collective construction/aesthetic needs. In addition, the books’ producers tapped into the market’s needs, or at least believed that they could do so. A chief factor in the commodification of taste was advertising. Advertising conflated the visual and verbal data proffered as ‘knowledge’ with ‘fashion’. The general practice among U.S. pattern book authors to include advertising in their books highlighted the authors’ business savvy and self-promotion. The British-trained architect Frank Wills, who worked briefly in the Maritimes and Quebec before transferring his practice to New York, advertised that he was “prepared to furnish designs and working drawings of churches, schools, and other buildings”327 the year before the publication of his pattern book made the process more democratic. More commercial applications of advertisement included U.S. architect George Woodward’s publication of Woodward’s Architecture and Rural Art which contained ads for Woodward’s National Architect (fig. 3.17). Re-printed copies of Woodward’s books sold for between $1.50 and $2.00 but the latest edition of National Architect was priced at $12.00. Commercial practice closely associated expense with the latest in architectural fashion. The use of lithography meant that the images in pattern books ceased to refer directly to the original medieval buildings, which the books claimed were the source of taste. Instead, the pattern books were actually referring to one another in a continuous cycle of marketing new fashion as though it had the endurance of the antique.  135 Indeed, the technical and mass-reproductive process of lithography was deliberately made to appear indistinct from etching, a labour intensive process associated with fine art European portfolios. Pattern book readers knew that their books were not fine art but they appreciated the appearance of it in their purchase of the books. Moreover, readers of the pattern books in Canada who had never been to Britain to see an original medieval church had to trust that the image in their hands referred to the latest fashion for the Neo-Gothic in Britain. The illustrated advertisements that formed part of the U.S. pattern books were an aspect of simulacra that raised the level of the books’ commodification. For example, the chromolithographic plate in Frederick Withers’ Church Architecture (1873) that was used to illustrate an advertisement for Minton’s Tiles was not an actual copy of a tile but a copy of a rendering of the idea of a tile. In other words, the tile depicted in the advertisement did not have to be part of Minton’s inventory in order for the tile illustration to represent Minton’s company. Similarly, the designs in Withers’ book needed only to refer to the Gothic Revival and not to original medieval buildings in order to participate in the selling of taste. The pattern book author George Woodward expanded his marketing schemes by retailing the books written by his colleagues and competitors. To that end, he printed a catalogue entitled Architectural and Mechanical Books (c.1868).328 Pattern book sales increased with the expansion of the mail order business, which grew as a result of the spread of railway and shipping, as well as, the lowering of postal rates. The popularity of mail-order pattern books is illustrated by Woodward’s catalogue, which explained in painstakingly clear language “How to Remit Money”. Woodward’s commercial  136 aspirations did not stop with book retailing. An advertisement in Woodward’s National Architect signalled how he also acted as sales agent for ‘Dixon’s Low Down Philadelphia Grate’, a modern home-heating device that claimed there was not a “single educated Physician in Philadelphia who owns the home he lives in, who is not supplied with one or more of these delightful luxuries.” (fig. 3.18)329 The advertisement’s text is significant because it drew together education, medicine, the social respectability of doctors, and the necessity of luxury. Dixon’s heating device was not cheap at $35 to $60 each. The inclusion of the advertisement for Dixon’s heating device in Woodward’s pattern books that ‘objectively’ discussed the merits of modern heating and ventilation illustrates the blurred borders between commerce and ‘knowledge’. Pattern books generally had a long shelf-life that contributed to the ongoing debates about the way churches should look. For instance, the introduction of George Wightwick’s pattern book Hints to Young Architects, Calculated to Facilitate Their Practical Operations… (1846, re-printed 1847, 1860, 1875, 1880) into the library of the Barrie, Ontario Mechanics’ Institute initiated a ‘conversation’ between the ideas in Wightwick’s book and the ideas in the library’s copy of Joseph Gwilt’s Encyclopaedia of Architecture Historical, Theoretical, and Practical (1842, several re-prints).330 That is, architects did not read books in isolation; but rather, they produced new ideas from a combination of sources. The ‘conversations’ between these books is metaphoric of the conversations that the Toronto architects Fred Cumberland and William Storm may have had while perusing their copy of Wightwick’s Hints to Young Architects…(1847) in conjunction with their editions of Frank Wills’ Ancient English Ecclesiastical Architecture and Its Principles… (1850) and Frederick Mackenzie’s Observations on the  137 Construction of the Roof of King’s College Chapel, Cambridge: with Illustrative Plans, Sections, and Details, from Actual Measurement (1840), for instance. The interaction of books introduced into Cumberland and Storm’s library is metaphoric of the wider public debate about the way churches should look, based upon the visual and verbal imagery available in pattern books anyone could purchase. The discourses around taste and knowledge illustrate how pattern books represented a new psychology of selling intangibles that was more related to the U.S. book-trade. Pattern book authors still used words to make taste appear tangible, but advertisements within the body of the pattern book told another story of the transitory and commercial character of fashion. For this reason, pattern book author John Thomas Mickelthwaite wrote: the opinion still generally held, even by men of real taste, is, that in each building it is necessary to adopt some particular ‘period’, as they call it, and conform to it in every detail, even the minutest, particular [italics mine].331 The term ‘real taste’ was applied not only to sway public opinion but intended to prove the actual existence of taste. The point was to make taste tangible through verbal and visual means. The transience of fashion was a problem for pattern book authors selling the idea of enduring taste. In this way, taste and fashion began to be conflated by contemporary pattern book readers. Taste’s existence, and the privilege that went with it, was contingent upon people’s willingness to suspend their disbelief in the transience of fashion. To offset taste’s apparent variability, U.S. pattern books appeared to offer practical and useful advice, especially since their authors had to contend with the added ethereality of their own profession. In the early parts of the nineteenth century, architects marketed their services as essential to a general public who considered the profession an  138 economic extravagance. By the close of the century, most of the general public came to believe in the necessity of architects. Professionalization had much to do with these changed attitudes, and pattern books were a complex part of the dialogue that alternately educated the public and created a distance between architects and their clients. Thus, church-building committees must have heeded the words of the U.S. architect and pattern book author, Frederick Withers, who advised “spending no more than $75 to $100 per seating”, “lining the foundations with slate to check the rising damp”, and sourcing the “best stone materials in New Brunswick and Ohio.”332 Withers’s architectural drawings and plans typified the format of most U.S. pattern books by offering comprehensive and straightforward building instructions. The elevations, sections, and plans depicted in Withers’s Church Architecture were plain renderings that recalled the economical output of a draftsman’s table rather than the picturesque illustrations typified by most British pattern books. 3.3.1 “Designs for Village, Town, and City Churches”: One Pattern Book Produced in Ontario In the 1893, a slim pamphlet of church patterns, entitled Designs for Village, Town, and City Churches and published by the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Canada, was produced for practical and ideological purposes. The pamphlet’s stated hope to “be of some service to those congregations about to build churches, more especially in rural districts” was coupled with a complex marketing scheme that promoted a “wealthy and prosperous” modern Presbyterian Church.333 It is clear that the Presbyterian Church was using the pamphlet to increase its public image in Ontario and Manitoba because the publication was produced through a nation-wide competition conducted in conjunction with the Ontario Association of Architects (OAA). The timing  139 was right because the reputation of the Presbyterian Church in the 1890s had largely recovered from the division that stemmed from the disruptions to its parent organization in Scotland in the 1840s. The growth of the Presbyterian Church was reflected in the census of 1881, which recorded 676,165 Presbyterians as compared to 587,818 Anglicans and 742,918 Methodists, due in part to the increase of Scots immigration.334 The factors involved in the open competition that produced Designs for Village, Town, and City Churches included the socio-economic constitution of privilege, the interdenominational competitions to define the nation, and the associations between economy and church-building. The pamphlet also participated in the apparatus of pattern book economy discussed in this chapter, which included the visual and verbal marketing of taste, ‘progress’, and knowledge. Advertisements were included in the pamphlet in a manner that followed the U.S. pattern book format. To fill the pages of the proposed pamphlet, junior and seasoned architects and draughtsmen were induced with small cash prizes. But the real inducement for submissions was that the adjudicators were prepared to “publish all [designs] of merit”.335 The architectural profession in Ontario was expected to participate eagerly. Instead, the contest was met with ambivalent response because few submissions had been received even a year after its announcement in 1891. Further chiding of the profession was called upon. An additional call for entries appeared in the Canadian Architect and Builder soliciting those “many architects who are not too busy at present” and reminding “draughtsmen in offices, [to] enter this competition with advantage to themselves”.336 The competition organizers presumed that many architects had resisted the competition because they would not work gratis; though, one advertisement noted that many  140 “architects persisted in preparing designs and forcing them upon prospective clients when they were not asked to do so….”337 Matters had not improved six months later, in May 1892, when the OAA registrar W.A. Langton received a letter from the “Committee of Experts” that noted: we have examined the competitive designs… and with much regret we beg to say that in our opinion there is not a sufficiently large number of suitable designs among them to warrant the committee in publishing a pamphlet.”338 They complained that few of the entries could actually be utilized as Presbyterian churches. But, the Presbyterian Committee of Church Architecture pressed ahead with the pamphlet by publishing the submitted entries, claiming that all were “in harmony and good taste”.339 The use of taste to justify publishing the pamphlet exemplified the fact that the last word to appear in print carried to most weight in a system of commercialized taste. The “Prefatory Notes” of Designs for Village, Town and City Churches equated the richness of building materials with the “means and liberality of the people”.340 As the pamphlet’s title suggested, there was a range of church designs suitable for an array of Canadian urban settlements. Cost of construction was the main factor of suitability. The pamphlet contained church designs that could be built for less than $2,000 in small rural towns, as well as, larger churches more suited to cities. Clearly, the pamphlet was playing to the idea that its readers identified themselves through the style of church they could afford to build. The designs in the pamphlet were supplied by a variety of mature and emerging architects. W.A. Langton provided a perspective drawing and plan from a commission to build a small stone parish church in Assiniboia (fig. 3.19), modelled on the 13th century  141 fabric of St. Michael’s, Longstanton. Other entries came from Daniel J. Crighton of Montreal, James Russell of Toronto, and E. Lowery and Son, all of whom presented amphitheatrical seating plans (fig. 3.20). This type of interior planning was not particularly definitive of the Presbyterian experience, since Non-Conformists had used it for decades to improve the communication between congregants and the pulpit. Conversely, W. L. Munroe, G. F. Stalker, and the partnership of Greg and Greg gave illustrations showing plans with longitudinal axes typified by Anglican churches (fig. 3.21). The pattern book did not precisely define the architectural aesthetic of a Presbyterian church, presenting instead a series of variations on Anglican and nonconformist architecture. The pamphlet advertised goods related to architecture and religion. R.J. McDowall’s piano and organ retailer of Kingston paid for a full-page advert placed ahead of the main body of printed drawings. Adverts of other sponsors included the ‘Owen Sound Stone Company’, the ‘Rathbun Co. Door and Moulding Manufacturers’, and ‘Castle and Son’ providers of stained glass. The rear of the volume contained another series of adverts for the makers of pews, pulpits and chairs, such as, the ‘Globe Furniture Co.’ of Walkerville, Ontario and their competitors ‘B.H. Carnovsky’ of Kingston, Ontario. A U.S. church bell manufacturer was listed, the ‘Clinton H. Meneely Bell Co.’ of Troy, New York, which showed the close relationship between U.S. manufacture and Canadian consumption. The final advert in the volume was supplied by W. Drysdale & Co., Booksellers and Stationers of Montreal, suppliers to the Presbyterian College. These advertisements were naturally related to church-building but they also demonstrated the close relationship between religion, manufacture, new commercial practices, and the  142 book trade. Placing advertisements in a church pattern book showed that building a sanctified structure was also a commercial practice. 3.3.2 Comparative Case Study: Two St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Churches in Toronto During the mid-1870s, disagreements about the amount of ritual in church services split the congregation of St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church in Toronto. The seceding group built a church on Jarvis Street that became known as “Old St. Andrew’s”, though in reality that congregation dated from 1876. The bulk of the original St. Andrew’s congregation in Toronto, established in 1821, also built a new church on King Street West on a site located near the growing commercial sector of the city. The church known as “New St. Andrew’s” was built by William George Storm, who modelled his design on the “famous Kirkwall cathedral in the Orkney Islands, and the style of architecture […] described as Norman Scottish.”341 Architectural historian Janine Butler noted the connections between “New St. Andrew’s” and pattern books written by George Bidlake (Sketches for Churches Designed for the use of Non-Conformists, 1865).342 When the congregation moved to the corner of King and Simcoe Streets the parish’s mission building, dedicated St. Mark’s, was moved to Adelaide Street west of Techumseh. The “New St. Andrew’s” church continued to finance St. Mark’s, which nearly bankrupted the congregation. The situation required some financial reorganization that involved selling a small portion of the land at King and Simcoe St. for $12,000. The remaining portion of land grew in value to $16,000 nearly twenty years later. However, the decision to replace St. Mark’s small Carpenter’s Gothic board-and-batten building with a larger, but simplified, Scottish Norman brick structure proved costly to the “New St. Andrew’s” congregation.  143 Tempers boiled over on 2 October when St. Andrew’s newly arrived minister, the Reverend, W.J. McCaughan of Belfast, Ireland announced to the congregation that the church was $2,100 in debt. He was upset that the St. Andrew’s coffers had been carrying St. Mark’s Church. To illustrate the problem, the Reverend publicly stated that he “refused to cash his cheque for salary …because he objected on principle to an overdraft of the church’s banking account.”343 He continued: I don’t think the people need be told that the present difficulty exists on account of our branch, St. Mark’s church. We are behind financially solely on account of our own congregation. …Personally, I think this congregation should pay its own debts.344 Rev. McCaughan concluded his sermon by officially giving notice of his intention to leave Toronto for Chicago and a congregation that had built him a new parsonage. The congregation responded by publishing a full account of its finances in the Toronto Telegram tabulating the costs of financing St. Mark’s, pew rental incomes, and envelope donations in order to refute “these injurious reflections on the church finances, whether emanating from the press or the pulpit.”345 Of particular note were land acquisition costs since 1876 that amounted to $167,752.17 and additional expenditures for missionary, educational and benevolent purposes that amounted to $163,000, a combined figure of nearly $330,000. Furthermore, the Board of Managers of the church released its finances to the public in a bid to discredit the Reverend, proving its debt had actually been “reduced from $53,000 to $41,000.”346 By contrast, the “Old St. Andrew’s” church built its new church, in connection with hiring a new pastor Rev. G.M. Milligan from Detroit who was lured to the congregation on account of their “fervent” and “forceful” approach to worship. Finding a vacant lot at Carlton and Jarvis Streets, Rev. Milligan convinced the congregation to  144 build a new church. The architect firm of Langley, Langley, and Burke was hired and they produced a “second-pointed” Neo-Gothic design that the Toronto Telegram claimed was “a building being devoid of especial ornamentation and elaboration … amply atoned for in the symmetry and harmony of its construction.”347 It was completed in 1877 for at a cost of $57,000. The congregation remained out of serious debt by opting for a more modest building, one nevertheless employing an amphitheatrical interior plan that suited a more egalitarian approach to worship. Both St. Andrew’s churches employed conventional aesthetics but claimed to utilize the progressive designs that were actually shown in Designs for Village, Town and City Churches. Clearly, there were readers of pattern books who preferred their innovative architectural design to remain on the printed page. To illustrate the contradiction, it is worth noting that the competition’s winning design by architect Arthur E. Wells of Toronto, which was a very progressive blend of domestic and religious architecture, was actually omitted from the pamphlet’s publication (fig. 3.22). Only the thin ‘fleche’ or spire emerging from the steeply pitched roof, and amid the verticals of two chimneys, announced the building as a church at all. The editors of the pamphlet appeared unwilling to conform to the principles of ‘newness’ that was announced two years earlier in its call for entries. Surprisingly, the Anglican congregation of St. Clement’s at Yonge and Eglinton in Toronto had already adopted the type of ‘progressive’ design that Wells had had rejected from the Presbyterian Church’s pamphlet.348  145 Summary The Anglican Church no less than other denominations relied heavily on land transactions to expand its operations. For that reason the fluctuations and machinations around modern values of property impacted church business, and particularly church construction. The force of economy was thus a point of reference for church leaders and church-builders in the process of crafting identity around rural and urban spaces in Canada’s developing society. The imagery in the pattern books clearly influenced not only the way churches were constructed but also the way churches were planned to attain a Picturesque effect. Churches benefited from the expansion of social networks in Canada, each depending upon the accumulation of property at cheap prices. The Government of Canada had vested interests in selling land cheaply in order to spread the population west and north toward the fulfilment of Britain’s desire to have an inexpensive economic link with the Asian archipelago. On the other hand, land still retained its associations with prestige and privilege, especially in the expanding urban situation. For this reason, Canada’s population growth and economic expansion occurred in an uneven manner despite official representations to the contrary. The economy of church pattern books touched on all of these factors because bookselling purported to offer fashion disguised as knowledge. The pattern books professed to establish continuity with the past even though they marketed history to sell something new. British and U.S. church pattern books were on the shelves of the library of the architects Fred Cumberland and George Storm demonstrating the consumption of imported architectural knowledge. Furthermore, the close relationship between economy,  146 settlement, architecture, and books was revealed by their ownership of A General Text Book, for the Constant Use and Reference of Architects, Engineers, Surveyors, Solicitors, Auctioneers, Land Agents, and Stewards indicating that architects participated in property valuation as a component of land speculation. The deployment of this book in the practice of property assessment illustrated the ease with which imported knowledge was accepted by the colonial populace, whether it originated in Britain or the U.S. For this reason, the rate of church pattern book consumption was not affected by the fluctuations in tariffs on books; there were very few Canadian produced alternatives to imported pattern books dealing with architecture. The creation of an equivalence of fashion and taste with regard to building churches in Ontario and Manitoba was demonstrated most clearly in the Presbyterian publication of Designs for Village, Town and City Churches. The churches illustrated in it expressed variety in design but limited innovation. Its strategy to offer alternative church designs for Presbyterian worship became restricted by the drawings of churches that appealed to more traditional values. The omission of the winning entry explains that progressive church designs were not appreciated; instead, the editor attempted to misrepresent traditional church designs as innovative. The situation indicates the conservative nature of the church-building communities in the middle regions of Canada even though Britain, which appeared to be the social model, had undergone pronounced stylistic progressions.  147 IV.  The Mobility of Church Pattern Books in the Context of Church-Building in Canada The Dutch may have their Holland, the Spaniard have his Spain The Yankee to the south of us must south of us remain; For not a man dare lift a hand against the men who brag That they were born in Canada beneath the British flag. Tekahionwake (Pauline Johnson), Canadian Born (1903)  In the post-Confederated Dominion, business, religion, and settlement generally operated as though expansion ensured survival. Expansion required mobility afforded by the flow of people and capital. Church-building expanded across the Dominion by marketing newness even though the cycle of production and consumption represented by the sale of pattern books contradicted their emphasis on historical tradition. This chapter is primarily concerned with the spread of churches alongside the sale of pattern books. These ideas need to be examined in light of the constitution of group and individual identities relative to national imaginings, particularly expressed in the rhetoric around the construction of the railway. The railways spread the pattern books, and thus knowledge, and all three impacted the lives of First Nations by attempting to replace their traditional beliefs with European knowledge systems. Understanding the mobility of the pattern books in light of the marketing of knowledge and science, as well as that of fashion and taste, involves examining colonial strategies, policies, and procedures of trade. The central feature of colonial expansion positioned some groups, especially indigenous peoples and the Métis, as social ‘others’. Accordingly, this chapter will examine the dual structure of church pattern book importation and distribution that resonated with the colonial authority. The chapter begins with a comparison of the type of social and economic structures that spread the pattern book trade and organized religion. The spread of books  148 across the Dominion that occurred through the regionally structured book trade, heavily influenced by U.S. hegemony, mirrored the spread of church buildings. Furthermore, the strength of regional markets no less than regional politics influenced the internal spatial division of new commercial ventures, the department stores. The Anglican Church’s development of a General Synod in Canada replicated aspects of those patterns of consolidation that occurred in the expansion of the book trade and even development of the trans-continental railway. The especial role of churchbuilding in connection with resource extraction, settlement, the pacification of social uprisings, and even tourism, will be contemplated through case studies of Holy Trinity at Stanley Mission (1854) and St. James at Star City (c.1909), Saskatchewan as well as St. George’s-in-the-Pines (1889-1897), Banff, Alberta. These cases will be considered in connection with comparative cases at Rosh Pina Synagogue (1892), Winnipeg, and the Roman Catholic church of St. Antoine de Padoue (1883), Batoche, Saskatchewan. 4.1  Pattern Book Distribution between St. John’s and Victoria The loose collection of booksellers operating independently across the country,  many of them largely unaware of each other, imported and distributed many of the same books from Britain and the U.S. This occurred largely because a small clutch of regional book agents travelled around Canada selling their wares. For this reason, the appearance of a national community of readers, whether real or imagined, was constituted economically on a regional scale. The owners of various booksellers including Robert Dicks (Sign of the Book) in St. John’s, New Brunswick, James C. Linton (Sign of the Big Book) in Calgary, and T.H. Hibben (Hibbens Books) in Victoria sold imported goods to a regional customer base. Even though the booksellers were supplied by shipments that  149 travelled across country by rail – a new commercial venture in itself – the regional flavour of their customers was significant. During the 1870s book shipments from the U.S. increased in tandem with the expansion of branch rail lines extending from the U.S. into Canada. Thus, New York and Philadelphia publishers were able to ship directly to markets in Toronto, Winnipeg, and even Vancouver, highlighting the regional aspect of the book trade. The growth in cheap books imported from the U.S. also influenced the growth of regional book markets in Canada. These regional business patterns were consistent with the regional patterns of identification and settlement growth reflected in church-building. Canada’s railway enterprise became influenced by the U.S. business model of expansion rather than the British one because of geographic and economic resemblances. For that reason, the CPR project was described in positivist terms of technology even though the close cultural affinity with Britain continued to be reflected in the marketing of Picturesque views beheld by travellers crossing the Rockies. Daily newspaper reports of ‘progress’ in the Canadian Pacific Railway construction accompanied periodic reports about the latest church consecrations. Though industry and economy drove the railway forward people identified with the railway through ideologically charged imagery. The CPR guidebooks, for example, generally omitted industry from their landscape illustrations in order to foster their associations with a pristine and wild but ultimately manageable natural environment. Using textual rather than pictorial representation, the Manitoba Free Press (1872-1931) serialized CPR construction reports using ‘humaninterest’ stories in order to contextualize the monumental costs that average readers could  150 not fathom. At the same time, church-building conjured up medieval architecture and moral directives imposed on the middle ages by the Victorian sensibility. The mobility offered by the railway also initiated a continual loop of production and consumption similar to the one occurring in the U.S.349 In that way, the railway became a myth-making engine that contributed to the complex structure of identity formation. In reality, the main CPR line disadvantaged the west with a 13% freight rate differential that made shipping goods to the east prohibitively expensive.350 The structure of the book trade in Canada demonstrated that there was neither a unifying culture of the ‘nation’ nor a straightforward expansion of settlement in an undisrupted state. In reality, the spread of the book trade occurred by a series of energetic expansions accompanied by equally sharp consolidations. The formation of the book trade comprised an opportunistic collection of parts while projecting official images of a unified whole. Thus, the rhetoric of ‘national unification’, which was more imagined than material, was not entirely consistent with booksellers’ actual commercial practices. Booksellers operated through a network of regional agents. Putting the force of religion and the spread of settlement into play, J.S. Woodworth wrote in 1911 in My Neighbor: A Study of City Conditions, a Plea for Service that: We can hardly be accused of under-estimating the value of social settlements, institutional churches, and city missions, but more and more we are convinced that such agencies will never meet the great social needs of the city. They serve a present need; they bring us face to face with our problem; they point out the line of advance. Then by all means let us multiply them and extend the scope of their work. But the needs will remain until the community at large is dominated by the social ideal. This is surely the mission of the Church, and yet the Church itself is hardly awake to the situation, much less fitted to meet it. Will the Church retain – perhaps we should rather say, regain – her social leadership?351  151 Woodsworth’s idea that a cohesive society was needed to improve modern living was not new. It reached as far back as Plato’s Republic and found expression more contemporaneously in A.W.N. Pugin’s Contrasts where he predicted that Catholic values would shelter humanity. Churches no less than the pattern books made similar promises to improve society but the books quickly reverted into marketing aesthetics, thus, diminishing their overall social impact. The movements of the pattern books among the buying public sold the idea that history was something familiar. Another layer of complexity was added when the books were imported to Canada because the past being marketed was verified by the printed page. In reality, pattern books marketed church designs while covering the tracks of their commercial purposes, notable the control of public taste. For instance, the U.S. architect Henry Hudson Holly veiled the commercial aspect of his book Church Architecture: Illustrated with Thirty-Five Lithographic Plates, from Original Designs (1871) behind a “mixture of the science of the freemason and the love of the workman of the old days”.352 The church pattern books marketed history and the Picturesque as reactions to institutional controls on daily life. The pattern books combined bucolic images of an open landscape with references to the medieval past, even though reality was reflected in the invention of Standard Time and the rigidity of railway schedules, both of which organized the workday schedule. People looked forward to Sunday as a respite from modern life by retreating to the pastoral setting of their church. Illustrations in Holly’s Church Architecture (1871) even made it appear as though the town church had Picturesque qualities. Design number 13, Plate 28 illustrated a church surrounded by mature but manicured tree symbolizing God’s communion with nature and religion’s  152 self-described custodial care for society (fig. 4.1). In reality, church pattern books deliberately marketed the latest scientific construction methods in tandem with the conventional and Picturesque landscape because the combination held large public appeal. The dormer windows that were partially integrated into the roof of Holly’s drawing of a timber church reflected the latest architectural fashion in the 1870s. The appeal of the medieval past was so strong that people disregarded the fact of the pattern books’ technical reproduction – lithography. Amongst the perspective views and full-page plans of churches in Henry Hudson Holly’s Church Architecture were some pairs of images that built upon the polemical argument in Pugin’s Contrasts. These images intensified the marketing of a robust past associated with Pugin’s notoriety. In Holly’s pattern book, plate 10, ‘The House of God’ (fig. 4.2), depicts the interior of two separate unnamed churches identified by the headings ‘The Deformation’ and ‘The Reformation’. In the former image two lonely and parishioners, a man and his wife, sit on a cold and uncomfortable bench listening to the sermon from one of three different preachers each situated in a pulpit. The parishioners have their backs to the church officials and the husband appears to sleep. The building is in disarray. The dilapidated condition of the large coat of arms above the chancel arch must have symbolized the fragile relationship between Church and State. The gothic arch, which appears to frame a gallery and not the chancel, has been pushed dangerously out of vertical by the slanted roof of the aisle. A depressed archway related to Neo-Classical domestic interiors frames the triple pulpit. In the foreground, the octagonal font, though constructed in form reminiscent of medieval fonts, is used to hold the gentlemen’s hats instead of Holy Water. The general shabbiness of the ‘