The Theatre Royal in a New Century

In the early twentieth century, the Theatre Royal is known to have been used principally for community dinners, fundraisers, and celebratory dances. In particular, ceremonial Labour Day dances, which continued the tradition started in the 1860s, were still held annually. A covered addition, built against the side of the theatre and to the right of the entrance, remained in use to store fire brigade supplies such as a two-wheel cart with coiled hose lengths and leather buckets (and the bell in the belfry was still used as the community fire alarm) implying that the brigade continued using the venue for equipment storage and training through the passing of the decades. However, at some point the WCFB disbanded and in the early thirties reformed as the Barkerville Fire Brigade.

Entirely understandable given the building’s importance in the community and its lack of regular use as a performance venue, the Theatre Royal served an additional unique purpose as the local community funeral home. One of the foyer recesses was allotted to the town’s undertaker for use as a mortuary. For how long, and during which of the first three decades of the century the space was used for this purpose, remain unknown at this time.

Throughout the first two decades of the century, Barkerville remained a healthy community and sustained businesses, boarding houses, restaurants, hotels, and residences. The Chinese population was again growing in the community through immigration and economy, marking a renewed vitality of mining and another notable regional gold rush. While placer mining never ceased in the region, lode exploration was increasing, and, in particular, hydraulic mining continued extensively in the surrounding hills, mountains, and valleys.

Of significance on the global stage was Canada’s joining the Great War against Germany on August 4th, 1914. Although military service remained a volunteer activity until 1917, the First World War undoubtedly had an impact on local labour forces.

Following the war, and not unlike the current impact of the Covid Coronavirus pandemic over recent years, the Spanish Flu was brought home by Canadian troupes in 1918 and wreaked havoc for nearly two years. In British Columbia, it took the lives of approximately 4,000 people (the equivalent of 37,000 persons today by comparative population density).

Meanwhile, the long-gestating Temperance movement saw nationwide Prohibition during the war years, which in turn inspired a profitable bootlegging industry in Barkerville. So, while the townsite was no doubt impacted by world events, and even though there were only about 250 residents remaining in the once thriving rural metropolis (about the current size of the present-day neighbouring community of Wells), Barkerville wasn’t quiet and it certainly wasn’t a Ghost Town; in 1924, Barkerville was declared a National Historic Site for its economic significance to the province and as the terminus of the Cariboo Waggon Road.

In 1923, the racially motivated and discriminatory Exclusion Act was passed in Canada barring Chinese immigration until 1943. Because of this, the Chinese population (and in turn the entire population) in Barkerville, the surrounding townsites, and Cariboo, began a significant decline.

The Second Regional Boom

It was four years after the war and two years after the Spanish Flu pandemic, in 1922, that a seasoned sixty year-old prospector named Fred Wells arrived in Barkerville. He began working the Rainbow and Sanders Claims on Cow Mountain in 1926 with a determined inkling that the mountain, ever so slightly northwest of Barkerville and across from other 1860s gold mining locales such as Red Gulch and Mosquito Creek, contained the source of Barkerville’s legendary (but geologically logical) motherlode.

At that time, the Theatre Royal was used by a young teacher named Noel Duclos for student performances. In his memoir, he would reminisce over the old theatre’s piano, obviously one of significance for an unspecified reason, and noted that many backdrops from the days of CADA remained in the theatre during his time in the community.

In 1929, the dawning of the Great Depression began to draw many struggling individuals from urban centres back to rural gold mining. Whether it was fantasy, allure, or desperation, many began to see Barkerville once again as a hopeful chance for opportunity in trying times.

Barkerville’s population had been fluctuating somewhere between 200 and 300 residents, but gold was a harbinger of hope in hard times and change came quickly: in 1934 gold was worth $35/oz ($730.66/oz today), Fred Wells had, in fact, proven extremely rich ore in Cow Mountain, a new townsite was being constructed below Cow Mountain by the Wells Townsite Company, workers were pouring into the region to be employed by either the Cariboo Gold Quartz company or the new upstart on the mountain adjacent: the Island Mountain Company, and Barkerville, too, saw many new arrivals settle within its bounds. It was said that most of the married couples working for the Cariboo Gold Quartz relocated to Barkerville. Either way, Barkerville blossomed to approximately 600 residents.

Prospector, writer, historian, and historic conservationist, Fred Ludditt, first moved to Barkerville in 1930 and sensed very quickly, even after its first seventy years of existence, that Barkerville was historically significant in a way that most towns and communities weren’t: both the province and the nation owed debts to Barkerville, and there was more: the wilderness, the community, the spirit of the place; it all called to him.

When the townsite of Wells really began to come into its own in the mid-thirties with around 2,000 residents and rows of new townsite homes, two cinemas, stores, restaurants, and other amenities, Ludditt recalls a number of the older Barkerville homes being transported to Wells across the meadow on a snow road. A Barkerville resident of six decades, Fred Tregillus, had watched some of the old homes pass by from his front porch and remarked to Ludditt, “They’ll be bringing them all back to Barkerville someday.”

Ludditt befriended, explored with, and interviewed many of the old prospectors still living in Barkerville in the thirties through fifties, and he interviewed the relatives of those individuals who had passed on. Over the next quarter century, he would become one of the most instrumental activists in conserving Barkerville and in inspiring its designation, protection, and conservation as an historic site. Regardless, he expressed regret and perhaps an undeserved guilt in his 1969 book Barkerville Days (revised in 1980) for not having done more sooner (not that he could have), for it was during the 1930s and 1940s that much of historic Barkerville was lost to time – including the extraordinary Theatre Royal.

Meanwhile, drawn to Barkerville by a loss of work brought on by the Depression, a twenty-one year-old Howard Harris remarked of his arrival in 1932, “One of the most eye catching buildings I had noticed when I first set foot into Barkerville was the old Theatre Royal with the year 1869 prominently displayed on the front.” He also recalled noticing two stout poles on the north side of the theatre acting as buttresses to support that side of the structure due to a failing foundation.

Eventually employed by McKinnon’s store, Harris also became a prospector, banjo player, and volunteer fire fighter in the community. He recalled many fine dances in the Theatre Royal as well as being roped into the three-person “Barkerville Orchestra” during his first dance in ‘32, only to find comfort beside the very capable Alf Tregillus with his button-chromatic accordion, and Alf’s mother, Mrs. Mary Tregillus, on the piano. Harris noted the community joy present on the dance floor, and that all the ladies, young and old, single or coupled, rarely received a reprieve from the festivities and didn’t appear to mind in the least. Dance was in Barkerville’s very DNA. The event continued until 1am and it was the first time he’d heard an old hymn, Come to the Saviour, Make no Delay, played as a two-step.

The Barkerville Recreation Association

Around 1933, an organization formed called the Barkerville Recreation Association; indicating that the former Cariboo Amateur Dramatic and Athletic Association had not been active recently enough to be reinstated, likely not since prior to 1900.

The BRA marked out a badminton court in the auditorium space and also hung basketball hoops; a local basketball team of five (including Harris) was formed and several home games against Quesnel were played in the theatre. The BRA also continued to host the ever-so-popular community dances regularly; affirming again that dancing was in Barkerville’s social and community blood.

During the same year, Fred and Otto Becker built a log generator powerhouse for Barkerville that used a gasoline motor pulled from an International tractor. Most of the houses in the community were soon wired and residents coordinated to ensure a fair and consistent use of the electricity during evenings. One of the priority structures for this upgrade was, of course, the Theatre Royal. When an event was held, all residents cooperated to ensure enough electricity was available for the space. This powerhouse also meant that the world of cinema could now be delivered direct to Barkerville. A resident named Jim Delhanty coordinated with the BRA to install a film projector and silver screen in the Theatre Royal, though it is very likely that modifications had to be made to the original proscenium stage in order for him to do so.

Beginning in September of 1933, for one night a week each week, and continuing for fourteen months until November of 1934, the Theatre Royal was rechristened “The Northwestern Theatre” and rural residents savoured the talkies in remote Barkerville. The first film presented was Zane Grey’s romantic western The Golden West. Unfortunately, in November of 1934, the Fire Marshall, J. A. Thomas, dealt a death knell to the historic venue by determining it unsafe and condemning it as a fire hazard. Over the next few years the nearby townsite of Wells would have two brand new cinemas built: The Sunset Theatre and the Lode Theatre, so residents were not wanting for media entertainment, but one of the Cariboo’s most iconic and important historic structures was now left empty, unused, and unmaintained: a sure-fire recipe for the rapid deterioration of any older building. Because the venue was already noted for its remarkable and coloured history, an oppor- tunity to raise funds for restoration presented itself. It is curious, therefore, that further efforts weren’t made at the time to do so in order to maintain and re-support the invaluable historic edifice. Harris’ memoir seems to unintentionally indicate that the surge of newcomers to Barkerville in the thirties, those who cherished the town but had no legacy ties to it, were more excited by the prospect of potentially building a replacement hall.

As aforementioned, Fred Ludditt expressed a deep regret for not saving many of the historic buildings that were looted, dismantled, demolished, or burnt during the 1930s and 1940s to make way for new structures during the local building boom and economic surge of the era. He had been working some distance away at a claim site and was often saddened to return home every few weeks only to find a familiar and historically significant structure no longer present.

In fairness to other residents of the time, forward thinkers such as Ludditt and lifetime resident, Miss Lottie Bowron, who eventually campaigned extensively for site conservation, were few and far ahead of their time. For most, the vast majority of the old buildings in Barkerville were expendable. Perhaps in the same way that someone in the 2020s of today might look at the architecture, wiring, and materials from a standard affordable family home built in the 1970s: if the structure is only fifty years-old and outdated, why not tear it down and rebuild anew?

For some, though, the Theatre Royal wasn’t a tired hall in need of retirement, it was a symbol of great camaraderie, community endurance, and perseverance against the harsh realities of the Cariboo climate. It was Barkerville’s Theatre Royal, a Phoenix born from the ashes, and those living then still remembered that clearly. John Hamilton, for example, as transcribed by Charles Clowes, would elaborate on the transition from Old Barkerville to New Barkerville extensively in a 1936 issue of Macleans Magazine.

Out with the Old, In with the New – A Final Hurrah

Barkerville was full of a resurgence of youthful individuals, new residents, and there was an exuberance expressed by many simply for being able to live in an economically healthy region during a depressed era. A committee organized by Bill Ward (who would become the editor of BC’s Wildlife Journal in the 1960s) was formed to raise funds to construct a new hall.

Ludditt fondly recalls one particular impromptu evening parade formed of a party of six, presumably sometime between late 1934 and late 1937. Led by gas lamp and accordion, these six marched triumphantly down Barkerville’s main street to rouse residents from quiet evening routines to join in the revelry. A crowd assembled and all rambled together into the vacant Theatre Royal, accordion still playing, and danced the night away in fun and frolic like the days of yore.

As the Theatre Royal sat empty and unused (at least unofficially) during those last thirty-six months, a committee was appointed to arrange a final dance and fundraiser in the space.

An article regarding the scheduled demolition, written by BC Liberal MLA, Louis LeBourdais, was published by the Vancouver Daily Province on Friday, October 22nd of 1937. Brief but comprehensive, it offers a vivid history of the cultural and provincial significance of the building and reads like an obituary penned for a beloved friend. For some, it was. The issue date of the article suggests that the final dance was likely held a week later on Saturday, October 30th.

LeBourdais notes, “One of Cariboo’s best known landmarks – the Theatre Royal at Barkerville – is being torn down to make way for a more modern structure… built by volunteer labour in 1869… the building served the community as fire hall, dance hall, and recreation centre for nearly 70 years.”

Meanwhile, Bill McGowan, a young Scotsman, had been appointed by the committee to canvass numerous businesses and had done very well in his fundraising efforts. “All of the businesses,” Harris notes, “including a couple of well-known bootleggers and the madam of the sporting house, contributed generously.” A donation of lumber for the new hall was also made, which would have reduced construction costs of the new venue significantly.

The plan for the evening’s climactic conclusion was for an actor costumed as Father Time, accompanied by some ladies also dressed in historic costume, to give a theatrical presentation of sorts at midnight on the hour. The stage was adorned with a drum set, the old piano, and saxophones, and it was decorated with hanging Union Jacks and a “Days O’ ‘69” Banner. Shortly after Father Time’s appearance, according to Bill Ward writing for the Wildlife Review thirty-years later, the entire crowd had gathered outside for the final ringing of the bell which was to be followed by fireworks and more revelry. When the bell-pull was engaged, however, the 200 pound instrument which had been hanging for 66 years came crashing to the ground and narrowly missed a bystander, Vince Hubert, by a mere six inches. Ward noted, “The superstitious pondered the strangeness of the thing… the bell that had hung for 68 years (sic) had to fall down at the precise moment when it was to ring out for the last time! Was it coincidence?”

Provided that it was the community’s young blood eagerly campaigning for a new hall as a replacement, one is left to wonder if that ageing historic theatre was making a final plea for help, or if it was conceding that it had succeeded in its purpose and was ready to go? Perhaps the old cast brackets of the bell had simply worn and rusted and chose that particular significant moment to fail… but if there’s one thing this author has learned over the years, it is that coincidence is very rarely ever such. After all, if the final dance was indeed held on October 30th, 1937, the bell would have crashed to the street on All Hallow’s Eve.

The Barkerville Community Hall

Shortly after that final dance, the old theatre was dismantled. A new hall, erected in nearly the same spot under the guidance of a young and talented Danish carpenter named Karl Peterson, was constructed before the year’s end. This seemingly unrealistic timeline of two months, provided the potentially harsh Cariboo winters, was a nearly identical timeline for the construction of the former theatre sixty-eight years prior.

Karl Peterson and his young family had been residents of Barkerville for about five years by this time, and his construction company is credited with having built many of the 1930s and 1940s structures in the town.

Peterson’s new Theatre Royal, which was to be known as the Barkerville Community Hall for