Fanny Goff of Portugal Cove was the kind of woman who could have stepped out of a storybook. With her beauty, grace, and charm, she was spoken of as if she were royalty—a princess of Newfoundland.

And she was practically a princess, at least that’s what people said.

Practically a Princess

Long before Fanny was born, her grandmother, Penelope Jennings, lived a life not unlike the heroines of old romantic tales. Penelope was the daughter of Major General Jennings, a trusted officer and dear friend of the Prince of Wales, who later became King George III. On his deathbed, the Major entrusted the prince with the care of his only daughter, and the young Penelope was brought into the royal household. There, she became a Lady-in-Waiting to the Queen.

But as with many great romances, love changed the course of Penelope’s life. She fell for a dashing soldier in the King’s Guard, a man named Pottle. Their union was forbidden—her royal connections made her far above his station. Undeterred, the two lovers stole away under the cover of night, boarding a ship bound for a land that felt as distant and unknown as the edge of the world: Newfoundland.

In Bonavista, Penelope and her soldier built a home and raised a family. Their legacy lived on in their daughter Mary, who married George Goff. Together, Mary and George settled in Portugal Cove, where they ran a cozy inn that welcomed merchants, politicians, and travellers from Conception Bay. But while the inn was known for its comfort and hospitality, what truly made it famous was Mary and George’s daughter: the radiant Fanny Goff.

Pretty Fanny Goff

Fanny was more than just beautiful—though everyone who met her agreed she was the most beautiful woman Newfoundland had ever known. She was intelligent, talented, and kind. She moved through her parents’ inn with a natural grace that would have made her grandmother proud, chatting easily with guests and, when encouraged, entertaining them with her golden singing voice. Children adored her warmth, and grown men found themselves utterly captivated.

They all vied for a piece of Fanny’s attention.

Warren Armstrong, a love-struck clerk from St. John’s, was so taken with Fanny that he wrote her a poem:

Fanny was polite and kind, but she did not care for any of these suitors nor was she swayed by any over-the-top odes; her heart was already spoken for. Of all her admirers, only one ever captured her heart: a handsome young man from Brigus by the name of John Barton.

Fanny and John

It was a chilly evening in late autumn, and the Goff Inn was bustling with travelers passing through Portugal Cove on their way to St. John’s. Among the guests was John. He had come to the inn seeking a warm meal and rest for the night, but what he found instead was the woman who would change his life forever.

Fanny, as always, moved gracefully through the inn, greeting guests with her radiant smile and kind words. When her eyes met John’s for the first time, there was an instant connection—a spark that neither could explain. Fanny’s beauty was, of course, captivating, but it was her warmth and genuine nature that struck John most deeply. As the evening went on, he found himself lingering in the common room, hoping for even a few more moments of her attention.

John, who’d always been confident in business dealing, suddenly found himself feeling shy and uncharacteristically nervous. When he finally summoned the courage to speak to Fanny, they fell into easy conversation. They talked about the sights of Conception Bay, the beauty of the Newfoundland coastline, and their shared love of the sea. Fanny, who was accustomed to the admiration of many suitors, was surprised by John’s sincerity. He wasn’t trying to impress her with grand gestures or silly verses. Instead, he listened to her, laughed with her, and treated her as an equal.

As the weeks turned into months, John found reasons to visit Portugal Cove more frequently. He claimed it was for business, but everyone knew better—he was there to see Fanny. The two spent hours walking along the shore, their laughter carried on the breeze. Under the apple trees in her parent’s garden, John would tell her stories of his work and his dreams of expanding his business, while Fanny shared her love of music and her hopes for the future. They were drawn together not just by affection but by a deep respect and understanding of one another.

Fanny’s parents came to adore John. They saw in him a man of integrity and ambition, someone who would cherish their daughter and provide her with a good life. It wasn’t long before John asked for Fanny’s hand in marriage. She accepted with a smile, and their engagement was announced soon after. The news was met with joy by all who knew them. Everyone agreed they were a perfect match—two souls who seemed to have been made for one another.

A Tragic Turn

The date for the wedding was set: March 22, 1822.

The inn buzzed with preparations for the grand wedding, and Fanny’s excitement grew with each passing day. But fate, as in all great tales, had other plans.

Just days before the wedding, Fanny fell ill. What began as a slight fever soon turned grave, and despite her family’s desperate attempts to save her, she passed away mere days before she was to wed. On her deathbed, she thought only of John, her true love. She wished she could see him, to tell him not to grieve. As sick as she was, she couldn’t bear the thought of his sadness, his loneliness. She made her parents promise they would tell him to live his life well, to be happy and that they would be together again in the next world.

John’s Shock

John, unaware of the tragedy, was still in Brigus, happily preparing for his wedding. On March 21, the day before the ceremony, he packed his sled with gifts for his bride and set off for Portugal Cove. The air was crisp, the skies clear, and his heart was light. It was, he thought, the happiest day of his life.

On the morning of March 22—the day they were to be wed—John stopped in St. Philip’s at the home of an old acquaintance, Tom Squires. He entered the house with a bright smile, thinking, perhaps, they’d share a cup of tea and chat about the excitement of the day ahead.

The Squires family, dressed in mourning clothes, stared at him in silent shock. They were on their way to Fanny’s funeral, which was to take place that very afternoon. It was clear John knew nothing of her death.

It fell to Tom to break the news. Taking John into a quiet room, he gently told him the devastating truth.

John was shattered. In that moment, his world collapsed. All the dreams he had held for their future, all the joy and love they had planned, were gone. Unable to speak, he left the house, hitched his horse, and returned to home.

Once in Brigus, John Barton quietly settled his affairs. For two days, he stayed in his room, refusing food or company. On the third day, John Barton passed away. Some said it was pneumonia brought on by the cold journey; others believed his heart simply gave out under the weight of his grief.

A Love Remembered.

Young Fanny Goff, once celebrated as the most beautiful woman in Newfoundland, was laid to rest beneath the apple tree in her parents’ garden—the very place where she had once dreamed of a future with John.

Though the tree has long since vanished, her headstone remains, and can be visited to this day in Portugal Cove.

It stands as a silent reminder not only of Fanny Goff but of a love so deep that neither death nor time could not erase it.