Restaurant
In the heart of Napanee, Ontario, at 75-77 John Street, stands a three-story brick edifice that serves as a beloved local gathering place, The Queen's Pub. To the casual patron enjoying a craft beer and a meal, it is a beautifully restored old building with a warm, inviting atmosphere—exposed brick, high tin ceilings, and a palpable sense of history. Yet, to understand this building is to understand the very soul of Napanee itself. This structure is not merely old; it is a survivor, a testament, a physical chronicle of industrial ambition, devastating catastrophe, civic resilience, and the enduring power of heritage. This is the story of the Gibbard Block, a building that has stood as a silent witness to nearly 170 years of its town's journey.
To comprehend the why of the Gibbard Block, one must first travel back to the formative years of Upper Canada. The town of Napanee owes its existence to the river that shares its name. The Napanee River, cascading over a series of limestone rapids, offered a potent source of power in an era when industry was driven by water wheels. The surrounding lands were blanketed with the vast, virgin forests of the Canadian Shield, a seemingly inexhaustible supply of timber. In the early 19th century, this confluence of water power and raw materials made the area an ideal location for settlement and industry.
Into this nascent landscape stepped John Gibbard in 1835. An English immigrant and a skilled cabinetmaker, Gibbard possessed the two essential qualities of a successful pioneer: craftsmanship and ambition. He established a small woodworking shop on the banks of the Napanee River, initially producing simple but sturdy furniture for the growing local population of farmers, loggers, and merchants. This humble workshop was the seed of what would become the Gibbard Furniture Company, an enterprise that would grow to become Canada's oldest furniture manufacturer and a nationally recognized symbol of quality.
The mid-19th century was a period of explosive growth for the region. The construction of the Grand Trunk Railway in the 1850s was a transformative event. It shattered the isolation of inland towns like Napanee, connecting them to the major commercial centers of Montreal and Toronto. Suddenly, goods and people could move with unprecedented speed. For an industrialist like John Gibbard, this was a golden opportunity. He could now source finer materials from afar and, more importantly, ship his finished furniture to a vastly expanded market. His business boomed.
By 1855, John Gibbard was no longer just a local cabinetmaker; he was a leading industrialist, a major employer, and a pillar of the community. Prosperous Victorian men of his stature were expected to display their success not only through their homes but also through their contributions to the civic landscape. They built churches, funded libraries, and constructed impressive commercial blocks that would form the heart of their towns. It was in this spirit of civic pride and commercial acumen that Gibbard commissioned the construction of the very first Gibbard Block. It was to be a landmark, a bold statement in brick and mortar of his faith in Napanee's bright future.
Erected around 1855, the original Gibbard Block was one of the most substantial buildings in Napanee. While no photographs of this first iteration are known to survive, its form can be inferred from the architectural conventions of the time and its intended purpose. It was a three-story brick commercial structure, likely built in the Georgian or early Italianate style, characterized by a sense of order, symmetry, and solid permanence. Its location on John Street placed it at the very center of the town’s commercial life, a short walk from the river mills, the post office, and the bustling new railway station.
The building was a hive of activity. The ground floor, with its large street-facing windows, would have housed prime retail tenants. One can imagine a dry goods store, its shelves stacked high with bolts of fabric, barrels of sugar, and tools for the farm and home. Perhaps a haberdashery or a pharmacy occupied the other storefront, its windows displaying the latest goods arriving by rail.
The upper floors were dedicated to the professional class that served the growing town. Here, lawyers would have drafted deeds and wills in offices overlooking the street. A doctor or dentist might have had his practice on the second floor, his shingle hanging proudly by the entrance. The third floor could have contained additional offices, the rooms of a fraternal organization like the Masons or the Odd Fellows, or perhaps residential apartments for respectable bachelors.
The Gibbard Block was more than just a building; it was an economic engine and a social nexus. It embodied the optimism of the pre-Confederation era. For nearly thirty years, it stood as a symbol of John Gibbard’s success and Napanee's prosperity, its bricks absorbing the daily rhythms of a town on the rise. But its story, and the town's, was about to be irrevocably altered by a single, catastrophic night.
The night of Sunday, August 24, 1884, was dark and windy. The fire started, as many did in that era of wood-frame buildings and open flames, in a humble wooden shed or stable behind the commercial blocks. Fanned by strong winds, the flames leaped with terrifying speed to the adjacent wooden structures and then to the supposedly more resilient brick buildings. Downtown Napanee became an inferno.
Contemporary accounts describe a scene of chaos and terror. The town's volunteer fire brigade, with its hand-pumper and horse-drawn steam engine, was valiant but completely overwhelmed. The fire was simply too large, too hot, and moving too fast. Flames roared hundreds of feet into the air, illuminating the night sky for miles around. Embers the size of fists were carried on the wind, starting new fires blocks away. The heat was so intense that it cracked stone and melted glass. Citizens rushed to save what they could from their homes and businesses, but for many, it was a futile effort.
The fire raged through the heart of the town, consuming everything in its path along Dundas and John Streets. When the sun rose on Monday morning, it revealed a scene of utter devastation. Over eighty buildings, the entire commercial core of Napanee, had been reduced to a smoking wasteland of blackened foundations and freestanding brick chimneys. Among the casualties was the proud Gibbard Block. Its sturdy brick walls may have still been partially standing, but its roof, floors, and everything inside had been consumed by the blaze. The symbol of Napanee's prosperity was now a hollowed-out, fire-scorched ruin.
For any community, such a disaster could have been a death blow. The financial losses were astronomical, the emotional toll immeasurable. But the response of Napanee's citizens, led by figures like John Gibbard, would come to define the town's character for generations.
In the immediate aftermath of the fire, there was no despair, only resolve. John Gibbard, then 75 years old but still possessed of an iron will, saw not an end but a new beginning. He, along with other leading merchants and property owners, pledged to rebuild immediately. This was a pivotal moment. They could have rebuilt quickly and cheaply, but they chose instead to build for the ages. They would create a new downtown that was grander, safer, and more beautiful than what had been lost.
Gibbard commissioned the immediate reconstruction of his block on its original, fire-tested stone foundation. The building that rose from the ashes in that same year, 1884, is the very structure that stands today. It is a masterpiece of Late Victorian commercial architecture, rich with the details and confidence of the era. Its style is predominantly Italianate, a popular choice for commercial buildings of the period, meant to evoke the grandeur of a Renaissance palazzo.
A closer look at its facade reveals the architectural language of the time:
The rebuilt Gibbard Block was more than a replacement; it was an upgrade. It was a defiant statement of progress and permanence. It told the world that Napanee was not a town to be defeated by disaster. It was a modern, forward-looking community, rising from its own ashes stronger and more magnificent than before. The entire downtown was rebuilt in this grand Victorian style, creating the cohesive and historically significant streetscape that the Town of Greater Napanee now actively works to preserve.
As Napanee transitioned into the 20th century, the Gibbard Block adapted with the times. For a significant portion of this period, it became home to the Queen's Hotel. This is the origin of the current pub's name and an identity that lodged itself deep in the town's collective memory. The Queen's Hotel was a classic small-town establishment. The ground floor likely housed a public tavern, a dining room, and a lobby. The upper floors contained simple but clean rooms for rent to traveling salesmen, railway workers, and visitors to the town.
The hotel would have been a central social institution. In the tavern, local farmers and factory workers would have gathered after a long day to share news and a pint of beer. In the dining room, local families might have celebrated special occasions. It was a place where stories were told, business deals were made, and the life of the community unfolded.
However, the 20th century also brought forces that would lead to the building's slow decline. The rise of the automobile and the development of major highways like the 401 shifted commercial gravity. Motels sprang up on the outskirts of town, offering convenient parking and modern amenities that the old downtown hotels couldn't match. In the post-WWII era, the emergence of suburban shopping plazas and big-box stores began to pull retail activity away from traditional main streets.
By the latter half of the century, the Gibbard Block, like so many historic downtown buildings across North America, began to struggle. It saw a succession of less prestigious tenants. Maintenance was deferred. The grand Victorian facade grew grimy, the windows became vacant, and the once-proud structure started to show its age. By the early 2000s, the building had fallen into a state of severe disrepair and was eventually left completely derelict. For years, it stood empty and silent, its windows boarded up—a sad, hollowed-out ghost of its former self at the heart of the town it had once so proudly anchored. It was a prominent symbol of urban decay, a problem that many feared was irreversible.
The building’s story could have ended there, a slow, quiet decay into eventual demolition. But in 2017, it found new champions in Paul and Lisa MacCulloch. As detailed in an article in The Napanee Beaver upon their opening, the MacCullochs were entrepreneurs with a vision. They saw past the peeling paint, the crumbling plaster, and the years of neglect. They saw the "good bones" of the 1884 structure and recognized its profound historical significance. They purchased the derelict Gibbard Block not merely to renovate it, but to resurrect it.
What followed was a monumental three-year restoration project, a process described by Paul MacCulloch as a true labour of love. This was not a superficial makeover; it was a deep, respectful, and incredibly complex heritage restoration. The process was akin to an architectural archeological dig.
The MacCullochs’ commitment, as outlined on their own website’s history page, was to an ethos of authenticity. Every decision was guided by a desire to honor the building’s past. They were not creating a theme park version of history; they were allowing the building’s true, authentic history to shine through.
In the summer of 2020, the doors of 75-77 John Street opened to the public once again. Rechristened The Queen's Pub, in a fitting homage to its hotel-era past, the building was reborn. It is now, once again, a bustling hub of community life. The ground floor pub and restaurant are filled with the sounds of conversation and laughter, its spaces defined by the warm glow of the 1884 brick. The upper floors have been transformed into a boutique inn, The Hotel at The Queen's, where guests can sleep within the very walls that John Gibbard built from the ashes.
The restoration of the Gibbard Block is more than just the story of one building. It serves as a powerful symbol for the entire community. It demonstrates that historic downtowns are not doomed to decay. It proves that with vision, investment, and a deep respect for the past, heritage buildings can be repurposed to become vibrant economic and social anchors for the 21st century.
The building stands today as a living museum. To walk through its doors is to walk through time. You can run your hand along a brick laid in the wake of the Great Fire, look up at a tin ceiling that once presided over the Queen's Hotel, and feel the solid foundation first laid when the Grand Trunk Railway was new. It is a direct, physical link to John Gibbard’s industrial vision, to the resilience of the townspeople who faced a catastrophic fire, and to the generations of Napanee residents who lived, worked, and socialized within its walls. Thanks to the meticulous work of its current custodians, the Gibbard Block is not just a relic of the past; it is a vital part of Napanee’s present, poised to serve its community for another century and beyond.
URL References Used in the Compilation of This History: