The Crystal/Red Mill/Strand, 1907—20
Crystal Theatre, 408 George St., Dec. 10, 1910. The theatre later changed its name: first to the Red Mill and then the Strand. This photo shows a publicity gathering on a frosty Saturday morning — the coldest day of the winter so far: complete with young newsboys and role players, including a Buffalo Bill impersonator and a white woman (on the far left) representing an “Indian” (her clothes rather ragged). Located on the east side of George, a few doors north of Hunter, the Crystal was roughly across from where Pappas’ Billiards is today. Peterborough Museum and Archives (PMA), Balsillie Collection of Roy Studio Images, 1978-012-40A-44.
“We are greatly gratified to realize that [the Crystal] has come to be recognized as a place of innocent recreation, where ladies can attend or send their children, for a half hour’s amusement, which they know beforehand will be of a clean and wholesome character.” – “‘The Crystal’: To the Public of Peterborough City and County,” Examiner, Dec. 15, 1908, p.5, a notice to the paper signed by W.A. Edwards, Proprietor.
*****
Wonderland’s main five-cent competitor, the Crystal, was blessed with a longer life. It screened its ever-changing programs of short silent films from 1907 until 1913 — and would continue as a venue for some years after that under two other names: Red Mill and Strand.
“The Crystal” was another popular name of the day for a moving picture theatre – among those names chosen by exhibitors to reflect “the flashing lights” of their façades and “the glowing, pulsating screens that seemed to mesmerize movie audiences.”
The Crystal name still there in 2020, at a door next to 410½ George. Google Maps.
Peterborough’s version was located at 408 George Street North, on the east side of the street north of Hunter St. in the James T. Henthorn Building. Constructed around 1858, it is the oldest building on the block and a designated heritage site. It was next door to the Crystal Building (also of heritage stature), and today passersby can still see a small circular awning with the word “Crystal” over the door.
Like Wonderland, the Crystal began as a makeshift five-cent theatre in a storefront space – but the proprietors had taken care to locate the new enterprise in what was said to be the “best business part of town,” and a theatre would remain in place on that site for years to come. Earlier, by September 1902, the premises had been converted into “three fine shops” – with fixtures “in exceptionally good taste” – the Tate Optical Company, William Morgan, barber, and W.G. Howden, meat market. By 1904 the occupant was B.Y. Moyes, dry goods, who must have held it until shortly before the Crystal took over the space.
Union Publishing Company’s Peterborough Directory, 1908, p.146.
The Crystal’s original proprietor was listed as The Edwards Amusement Company, led by Wallace Ambrose Edwards.
Wallace A. Edwards (often, it seems, known as “Wesley”), originally of Berlin, Ont., had arrived in town with his family early in August 1907 from Brantford – where some years previously he had worked as a blacksmith – and announced that work would begin soon on a “new theatorium” in the part of the building occupied by Moyes. Given his connection to Brantford, quite possibly he had moved into the theatre business under the tutelage of the Allen brothers, who had established the first motion picture theatres in Brantford and went on to become dynamos in the Canadian film distribution industry.
Edwards retained a connection to Berlin through a business partner, Oscar Rumple. He announced that he was planning to spend around $3,000 (about $82,000 today) to construct a new front entrance and install electrical fixtures. But in late August, when the owners, under the guise of a “New Amusement Company,” got their building permit to remodel the Moyes store completely, from inside out, they cited an estimated cost of $600. By that point it was being lauded as “one of the handsomest in Canada, in fact there is only one in Toronto that can compare with it for artistic fixtures and decorations.” Such fulsome claims tended to be the order of the day.
Examiner, Sept. 14, p.12. Perhaps putting too fine a point on it?
The Crystal, early February 1910, when the Shepperley Sisters were appearing. Roy Studio photo, Peterborough Museum and Archives.
The renovations were said to have transformed “the place from a barren building to a gilded hall of entertainment.” The front entrance had been turned into an arcade (with a “graceful” arch) running back from the sidewalk about six feet. A sign artist employed by the J.J. Turner & Sons Company created the large name fixed above the door. The walls had fancy tiling and a number of large mirrors. “The front will be a blaze of electricity,” a report said, with its three hundred coloured lights. A ticket booth sat between the entrance and exit doors. The interior had freshly repapered walls, stained wood work, and hanging baskets of flowers. The auditorium, with an inclined floor (unlike, I would think, the first two small theatres) and a small stage at the front, “comfortably” seated 150 people.
Edwards had ordered “patent seats” – but they were tardy in arriving and the opening was delayed. With those seats finally in place, the theatre was all ready to open on Saturday, Sept. 21, 1907 – except that then the moving picture films had not yet arrived.
The opening had to wait for two more days, until, on September 23, an Evening Examiner item announced: “THE ‘CRYSTAL’ IS TO OPEN TO-NIGHT,” with a “standing room only” crowd turning out for the event. Even though the theatre had “strong opposition” – including Little Dolly Dimples, with a cast of sixty, at the Grand Opera House and The Hen That Lays the Golden Egg, among other attractions, at Wonderland – one paper reported that over a thousand people passed through its doors that evening. “Nothing but words of praise were heard.”
The audience saw the motion picture Jim’s Apprenticeship, “an intensely funny series of pictures,” which they “enthusiastically received.”
The film depicted the adventures of a careless young blockhead named Jim, who is apprenticed to nearly every trade, but gets into trouble wherever he goes. The pictures are very clever and realistic and there is very little vibration, which usually has a disagreeable effect upon the eyes of the audience.
As it happens, that opening-day film was from France, a production of the Pathé Freres company released as Les Apprentissages de Boireau (May 1907). The audience that night also saw slides of the mayor and aldermen of the city, which were likewise “greeted with much applause.” The theatre planned to be open every afternoon and evening, with “complete changes of programme every Monday and Thursday.” (In October the theatre announced a change of program three times a week.)
Daily Review, Sept. 24, 1907, p.8. The “Oranament” of George Street makes the scene.
The new theatre was a small step up from the Colloseum and Wonderland. The management promised potential patrons “that every feature of the programme will be of a refined character.” It would be “an Oranament [sic] to George St.” said a headline in the Daily Review. The theatre had been “fitted up very elaborately and in good taste and should be a splendid business in the city,” presenting “high-class moving pictures.” The “picture machine” was “said to be one of the finest ever seen in Peterborough.” Edwards was resolved to cast his motion picture enterprise in a glowing light, promising “at the outset that this entertainment would be maintained under conditions that would invite the confidence of the most refined and scrupulous.”
Daily Review, Oct. 8, 1907, p.8. Come and “hear Miss Edwards Sing.”
As at the Colloseum and Wonderland, music was foremost. To begin the Crystal had “Miss Olive Edwards” (the proprietor’s daughter) as its vocalist, singing an “illustrated song.” That standard attraction encouraged the crowd to sing along and was a way of filling in the breaks when reels had to be changed.
“Miss Edwards” (as she was usually identified) had “won considerable distinction as a soprano [in] the church and other circles.” Olive Harrington Edwards had come with her family from Brantford and lived with her parents at 178 Dalhousie St. She indeed became well known in town as a soloist at All Saints Church and “the possessor of a remarkably clear and well trained soprano” voice. As the Review put it, “Her singing was a revelation unto those who expected to hear a singer of ordinary calibre.” She and her sister, “Mrs. Elliott,” with an equally strong singing voice, would have introduced a certain legitimacy to an upstart motion picture theatre. They later left Peterborough to join an opera company in Toronto.
Edwards: pushing cinema and community outreach
Examiner, March 11, 1908, p.2.
Edwards took his moving pictures out of the theatre and into the city – beginning with a special Children’s Aid Society Christmas party (in co-operation with the city’s churches) held at Market Hall for over 600 of the “poorer” children of the city. Edwards supplied “novel and instructive” pictures, including views of an ostrich farm and “an amusing automobiling series.” The children “shouted with laughter at the pictures and greeted the arrival of Santa Claus with hilarity and delight.”
The poverty of their homes and the fact that they were not as richly clad as some of their neighbours was forgotten by the little tots in their wonder at the moving pictures, their delight in the music and their anticipative excitement in connection with the Christmas tree.
Daily Review, Nov. 16, 1907, p.6. Drawing in the “respectable” church-going crowd with a longer than usual film — and one of the most popular of the year — for a longer than usual showing.
A day or two later Edwards offered the Children’s Aid Society his complete theatre receipts – at five cents a ticket – from two o’clock in the afternoon until six in the evening. He went on to provide films for a St. John’s church Sunday School program in January 1908 (with Fife again operating the machine); for St. Luke’s church in February; and in March 1908 he donated his space for a Sunday evening Y.C.M.A. directors meeting. He ran slides to promote a local baseball game, took films to the Peterborough Exhibition, and had local indigenous road runner Fred Simpson make an appearance to sing (Simpson had been a choir leader at his home community in Hiawatha). Edwards held an afternoon benefit screening one day to help a local man get enough money to buy an artificial limb.
With such initiatives, Edwards became popular locally and the Crystal quickly caught on as a congenial and popular gathering place. By April 1908 it was boasting that 100,000 paid admissions had streamed through its doors since opening. Its small size would always be a problem, though. A June 1909 screening of Ten Nights in a Bar-Room, a new version of the well-known temperance drama, apparently led to “many hundreds” of people being unable to get into the theatre.
Its initial staff included pianist Herbert Birchall of 312 Townsend St., whose work at least partly helped to drown out the sound of the projector. But pianists quickly came and went. By November a “Miss McKeever” was announced somewhat pretentiously as “the new pianiste” who “plays several lively selections during the time the pictures are shown.” Another employee was Stanley S. Coon, the projection operator, who lived with the Edwards at 178 Dalhousie St. and would later end up managing a theatre on his own.
Examiner, Jan. 10, 1908, p.8. A job for a piano player.
Other musicians included Herbert Nicholl, pianist (and die and tool maker at the C.G.E.), and George Howarth, violinist (and another C.G.E. tool maker), who both played with the Grand Opera House Orchestra. The early days of motion picture exhibition led to a scattering of jobs (if part-time) for people (especially musicians) from a variety of other occupations. The Crystal, the Examiner claimed in summer 1909, had the “best music procurable,” which included (on that particular day), “Mr. Fleming, baritone, and Benny Clark, the boy violinist” (both from Toronto).
Edwards also hired Milton Hartleman, “one of the most experienced operators and electricians in all Canada” (so it was said), and the man who had installed the theatre’s “complicated and perfect electric system.” The report said that Bartleman, formerly of Peterborough, had been working in Nova Scotia, but I’ve found no further trace of him in the records. “It is a revelation to see the clear plain pictures thrown on the screen at the Crystal by the operator. . . . The pictures seen by the audience throb with mimic life. Every texture in the actors’ faces, every change of expression, every detail is as clearly shown as in actual life.”
The Moving Picture World, Dec. 28, 1907, p.698. Direct from Chicago (before there was a Hollywood), coming to a theatre near you: The Two Orphans.
Examiner, April 14, 1908, p.1. One of the few mentions of a “lecturer” who explains what is happening in the moving picture. William (Billy) Bowman, a man of many talents, also sold peanuts at the Jackson Park summer moving pictures.
Given that early motion pictures did not have intermittent “titles” on-screen, the Crystal’s program would often include a “lecturer.” As Canadian cinema historian Peter Morris described it, this was someone who “chattered throughout each film, commenting, amplifying, adding colour, and filling in the gaps if anything was lacking in the film.” A July 1909 Examiner note pointed out: “Crowded houses at the ‘Crystal’ is evidence that the public appreciates high-grade clearly explained pictures.”
Almost a half-century later an Examiner retrospective noted, “For a nickel, patrons of the ‘Crystal’ . . . were treated to comedies, feature pictures, and singing. In the latter entertainment, words of a current song hit were flashed on the screen, and the audiences sang, accompanied by the stage piano.”
“Crowded to the doors”: a busy evening in Peterborough — “people perched like swallows on the street” — and a proprietor left in the lurch
Examiner, Nov. 27, 1907, p.5.
Daily Review, Nov. 28, 1907, p.1. The Crystal and the competition, including “the famously Original Kangaroo Girls.”
David Hartley was a local sensation — a painter (living in East City) who became a “walking wonder,” known that fall for his record-breaking victories in long-distance walks (Oshawa to Toronto to Peterborough, for instance). The streets were filled with people out to greet his return to Peterborough, and yet the theatre was still packed.
*****
Examiner, Aug. 28, 1909, p.11. Edwards doing what he could for the motion-picture loving customers.
In November 1908 Edwards closed the theatre for a short time to make improvements, going “to considerable expense.” When he reopened on Dec. 12, the Crystal was now “enlarged and beautified. Re-modelled and Re-seated.” Regular patrons, an Examiner article suggested, would have trouble recognizing what was now “one of the prettiest little theatoriums in Canada.”
Towards the end of its days, the seating capacity was given as 200 (up from the initial 150), and this first renovation might have been when that increase occurred (though it could have been later too). In any case, the article provides what is perhaps the best description of what was one of the city’s first motion picture theatres:
The Crystal, while not quite an opera house, made sure to advertise in the 1908 fall season Grand Opera House program booklet. PMA, 98-020.
The hall has been enlarged by an extension at the back and the floor has been lowered so that a good view of the screen can be obtained from any part of the house. The seating capacity has been further increased by the improvement and the Crystal will be able to accommodate large crowds . . . . Two boxes in theatre style have been constructed, one on each side of the hall, and adorned with neat brass railings, add considerably to the effect. The orchestra has been provided with room immediately in front of the stage, and their section is also cut off by a railing. The wall and ceilings have been done in attractive shades of red and green, the walls being burlap with artistic panels.
The effect was enough — with its two box seats too — that one local writer to the newspaper referred to it as an “opera house.” Although in its capacity it was still a far cry from the Grand Opera House down the street, the Crystal had become a little fancier than your average everyday five-cent storefront theatre. It was indicating that it was doing well enough to be in town to stay. Once again the management reassured possibly doubtful potential patrons: “Everything pertaining to clean Amusement. Ladies, Gentlemen and Children cordially invited.” The push to build a mass audience for motion pictures intensified.
“That the public of Peterborough is generally interested in and amused by motion pictures,” said the Review in September 1909, “is beyond dispute.”
*****
Examiner, Dec. 8, 1908, p.1. You just had to know where the Crystal was.
Within a year or two the Crystal — which was for about eight months in 1908 the city’s only dedicated motion picture theatre — would be receiving stiff competition from the Royal, Princess, and Grand Opera House. By 1911 it was supplementing its income by inviting local organizations to share its space. On Sundays — when theatres were prohibited by law from opening for film shows until the 1960s — the Crystal offered its space for community religious meetings, often either temperance meetings or under the auspices of the Y.M.C.A. It featured short talks, song services, and other music performed by the likes of the Imperial Male Quartette, St. James Quartette, Y.M.C.A. Harmony Club, Y.M.C.A. Quartette, and the Y.M.C.A. Orchestra. The newspaper notices hinted at big crowds. Edwards was applauded around town for providing his theatre for Christian charitable concerns.
Daily Review, Dec. 7, 1911, p.4. “Next the Crystal” gives the whereabouts.
As time went by the Crystal began on occasion charging twice as much – a dime instead of a nickel. At times it charged five cents in the afternoon and ten cents in the evenings; other times the normal price was still a nickel, except for holidays, when it was ten cents. Although it often saved money by skipping on the newspapers ads, its community presence was marked. Its neighbour, D.M. Minicolo, advertised itself over and over as a “new fruit and grocery store” at 410½ George Street, always indicating “NEXT THE CRYSTAL.”
The business appears to have fallen into some disarray by mid-1910; Edwards was unable to pay all his bills. Sometime in June he abruptly left the business and the bailiff took over, announcing a sale of the theatre. Edwards briefly took a job with W. Kennedy’s blacksmith shop on Charlotte Street and at some point quietly left town. By September he had reportedly purchased a blacksmith shop on Queen St. West in Toronto.
Daily Review, Nov. 18, 1911, p.5. Under new management.
In September 1911 a new owner, James Annis, took over in association with tobacco merchant Mike Pappas, who already operated the Royal Theatre. They promised “four thousand feet of the very best pictures, and good music and a good song by a popular singer.” The admission price would be ten cents, both afternoon and evening.
Not long after that, in late January 1912, came the announcement that “the oldest established moving picture house in Peterborough” was up for sale. The Crystal was “fully equipped,” said one news item – “new piano, new picture machine, good seating capacity.” The theatre had a ten-year lease on its location, and the seller would present “terms to suit purchaser.” Its “Central location” was “in direct line of business travel.”
The Red Mill
Daily Evening Review, Feb. 12, 1912, p.4.
A few weeks later the site had a new (unnamed) leaseholder and reopened, “newly fitted up” after a “thorough renovation,” on Friday, Feb. 16, 1912, under the name of the Red Mill – another much-used theatre name of the time — and, surprisingly, putting the price of a ticket back to a nickel.
“Peterborough’s New Amusement House” opened, according to the Examiner, “quietly and unostentatiously” and “without fanfaronade or the presence of a brass band to mark the occasion.” Yet huge crowds apparently “invaded the precincts,” indicating that “the people of this city are not slow to recognize a good thing when it is thrust upon them.”
Examiner, March 15, 1912, p.7. The Red Mill as Palace.
The Red Mill’s proprietor turned out to be a newcomer to the city, twenty-six-year-old Herbert Clayton, who over the following years would become a prominent Peterborough “theatre man,” and a story all to his own.
Clayton, an enterprising go-getter, placed himself front and centre — and in a short space of time he had his managerial fingers in not one but three downtown motion picture theatres.
Clayton brought with him plenty of experience in the motion picture business. He had begun as an usher at Toronto’s Crystal Palace theatre in 1908 and then managed the Crystal Palace Theatre in Hamilton for a number of years. In May he secured a ten-year extension of the lease on the Red Mill premises.
Daily Evening Review, April 12, 1912, p.5.
Daily Evening Review, April 19, 1912, p.5.
Daily Evening Review, April 20, 1912, p.5. With an emphasis on music as much as movies.
Examiner, Feb. 29, 1912, p.8. A Thursday article expressing something for everyone, including the children — offered a free program on Saturday morning, if accompanied. With a packed house that Saturday, the children were delighted; afterwards they lined up in front of the theatre “and gave three hearty cheers for the program.”
At the Red Mill, once again, music was first and foremost, featuring constantly changing talent: George Ayres, a tenor from Toronto, touted as “one of the best singers for illustrated songs in the province”; “New York’s greatest baritone singer,” a Mr. Bell; W.M. Donaldson of Detroit, who had already been appearing across the road at the Princess; Mrs. Gertrude Ogden; and an Italian singer, Dangelo. Clayton also hired a local musician cited for years in the papers simply as “Mrs. Foster” — and over the next sixty years or so Eveline M. Foster would become a Peterborough musical institution. She made an early appearance at the Red Mill in March 1912, when she played the “Nightingale violin solo,” a popular hit that was reportedly “the greatest rage” when she had appeared at Massey Hall in Toronto. She was joined by Donaldson on piano and Ayres, singing the latest song hits. She was soon leading the “Red Mill Orchestra.”
Daily Evening Review, March 16, 1912, p.5.
Examiner, March 19, 1912, p.7.
Examiner, March 21, 1912, p.7. “Never in the history of motion pictures . . .” covers a whole lot of promotional ground. And the Red Mill trio singing “I want a girl . . .” (perhaps like the one who married dear old dad).
Examiner, March 7, 1912, p.7. Clayton set up the Red Mill as the place to be in town — crowded to capacity, with hundreds turned away — you just had to get out to this “popular” and “pretty little Theatre.”
Examiner, March 8, 1912, p.7. And something to appeal to everyone — even “elderly persons,” and again Saturday mornings free for accompanied school children.
The Red Mill Theatre in April 1912. Herbert Clayton is standing in the doorway. Pianist/violinist and orchestra leader Mrs. Eveline Foster is second from the left. PMA, VR 7918-1. A similar (but slightly different) photo appeared in the Examiner, April 1, 1912, p.1.
Clayton clearly knew his musicians as well as his pictures. In 1915 he arranged for the appearance of R.J. Devey, the respected St. John’s Anglican Church organist who every once in a while also produced musical extravaganzas at the Grand Opera House. Clayton combined his pictures with countless vaudeville attractions — and all, still, for five cents. He also made a point in early 1914 of bringing in British pictures, which he declared were immensely successful.
Examiner, May 21, 1912, p.1. The Red Mill’s “own invention,” but not so.
For a while Clayton also experimented with “daylight pictures” — keeping some lights on and avoiding complete darkness, which suggested greater safety for the “ladies” and children and also offered better possibilities of ventilation in the summer, when doors could be kept open and the light left shining through. Clayton claimed this as the theatre’s “own invention,” but it was a widespread practice at the time and was in keeping with new Ontario regulations around the lighting of theatres.
In March 1915 Clayton advised that he was temporarily closing down the Red Mill for “extensive repairs and alterations” – with renovations that would make it “the last word in beauty and comfort.” He announced plans to install new chairs and add a vaudeville stage. The theatre reopened on Thursday, April 1, now charging ten cents for adults in the evening.
Examiner, Sept. 20, 1915, p.11.
But soon, with the First World War raging, Herbert Clayton abandoned his theatres. In late summer 1915 he left town to join the army; for about a year the Red Mill was in the hands of another new arrival in the city, Lee Peters, who kept its programs going. He also took charge of another theatre, the Tiz-It, but by March 1916 was gone from both.
Around the end of March the Red Mill’s lease was turned over to the local jeweller, George S. Schneider. The Schneider Estate had for some years owned the property of 406-408 George, and Clayton had been a tenant. Now the Red Mill — “the little theatre with fine pictures” — was charging ten cents for adults, five cents for children. At the beginning of July it joined the World Film Corporation “circuit” as the supplier of its films and made big promises. Big business set in: the World Film Corporation was one of the first motion picture production companies (early on including film mogul Lewis J. Selznick) financed through Wall Street investment bankers, but by 1918 it had collapsed and fallen into other corporate arms.
Towards the end of July 1916 the Red Mill’s advertising disappeared from the pages of the newspaper.
Examiner, July 10, 1916, p.7.
Examiner, July 20, 1916, p.7. The Exploits of Elaine (1914—15), starring Pearl White (here in its tenth episode), was a follow-up to her legendary serial The Perils of Pauline (1914), which set the mark for all to follow.
Examiner, July 24, 1916, p.7. The final appearance of a Red Mill ad. Note “Mrs. Fenwick” at the piano. This was Agnes Fenwick, who played the violin as well as piano — and was Eveline Foster’s mother.
The Strand
Examiner, Sept. 30, 1916, p.13.
With the Red Mill under his ownership, George Schneider did not wait long until making big changes. In October 1916 the space at 408 George reopened under what would be its third (and final) name, the Strand. It was yet another immensely popular name for a theatre in this period, calculated to provide legitimacy for the city’s smallest picture house. The naming in Peterborough came just before a 1917 national campaign by the Paramount-Famous Players-Lasky Corporation, which advised cities everywhere, “You can have ‘the Strand’ in your own town.” The reference was to the gigantic Strand Theatre, established in New York City in 1914 with a seating capacity of 3,500.
Examiner, Nov. 5, 1892, p.7. At first it was Frank Schneider in business, but he was soon joined by his brother George.
The owners of both the theatre and the property it rested in were local merchants: the well-known Schneider brothers, George F., an optician, and Frank S., a watchmaker and jeweller. Their father, George Schneider, had arrived in Peterborough very early on, in 1852, and set up a grocer’s shop on George Street south of London. Together his sons George (born in Peterborough April 18, 1865) and youngest son Frank had gone into business downtown. After taking a watchmaking course in Albany, N.Y., Frank set up a jewelry store in Peterborough in the early 1890s. His older brother George soon joined him, specializing in optical work. A 1895-97 city directory shows both father George Schneider with a bakery at 521 George; and F.S. Schneider, “the Jeweller,” at 391 George St. The family also acquired a good deal of property in the city.
Union Publishing Co.’s Peterborough Directory, 1905-6, p.20. The ad appeared at page bottom throughout the directory. Frank Schneider died in 1931; George Schneider kept the business going until 1947, when he sold it to Ostranders. George died in 1955.
In their takeover of what became the Strand, the Schneiders said they had “thoroughly overhauled” the old theatre, installing better seats and a ventilation system. A notice stated:
It may be of interest to that portion of the public who observe the motto “Safety First” to know that in the important matter of Electric wiring and installation The “Strand” is one of the few local houses that comes fully up to Provincial requirements in this respect. Our policy will be to give the public the best in motion pictures. Two machines insure good projection and steady performance. The musical part of our programme will be as usual first class.
Examiner, Oct. 10, 1916, p.11.
The Strand opened on Saturday, Oct. 7, 1916, “with a special program of Pathe Features.” In January 1917 it was declaring that it was “Now Under Ladies Management,” without any further explanation. Not only that, it had “Lady Ushers.” It was obviously taking aim at the female audience; and men were somewhat more scarce during the war. In December 1917 it was suggesting, “Ladies, shopping down town will find ‘The Strand’ a nice cozy place in which to spend an entertaining hour or two.”
Examiner, Feb. 1, 1917, p.16. “Under Ladies’ Management” with “Lady Ushers.”
Although its owners were still men, its manager was a Miss M. White; its assistant manager, Hilda Daynes, later became manager. Rose Carter was cashier for a time. Myrtle Sucee was pianist. It did have a few male employees as well: its film operator (or projectionist) was William J. Allen (who had previously worked with the Red Mill); in charge of ticket sales was Albert B. Cook; Frank Laronde also worked at the theatre.
Hilda Daynes, the Strand’s assistant manager and manager, one of the few women to hold that position in a local theatre. Balsillie Collection of Roy Studio photographs, PMA, Bio 18790-2.
The Strand was the little theatre that tried hard. For a few weeks in early 1917 it had a special “Guessing Contest” involving a large jar full of beans (similar to the Crystal’s effort in autumn 1907), for it told Examiner readers more than once, “Take a Hand in the Bean Contest and enjoy the show with the children.” Results were going to be presented on the screen: “Come and see if your guess was a prize winner.”
“Everybody Says It,” was a headline obviously planted by the Schneiders in April 1917. “Says what? Why, that the Strand Theatre has the best all-round good programming in the city. We cater to the public.”
Examiner, Feb. 13, 1918, p.6.
Examiner, Nov. 11, 1918, p.11.
Examiner, March 16, 1918, p.13. Announcing The Fatal Ring, with Pearl White, admission now ten cents.
Women as audience and stars: serials and “a societal shift”
In 1918 the Strand was emphasizing serials, such as — once again — the very popular “Queen of the Serials,” Pearl White, as Violet Standish in the nineteen-episode The Fatal Ring (U.S., 1917). Pearl White, the champion of narrow escapes in The Perils of Pauline, had a particular appeal to women fans. Indeed, the abundance of women in the “serial queen” melodramas represented something of a societal shift – while reflecting, as noted by Ben Singer (author of Melodrama and Modernity: Early Sensational Cinema and Its Contexts), “the studios’ perception of the economic importance of women moviegoers.” But the mix, as usual, was a complicated (and commercial) one. The “New Woman,” the graduates of the Suffragette movement, the working “single woman,” the women with more spending power and places to go in the public realm – music halls, amusement parks, movie theatres – were all travelling “to places outside their traditional zone of experience.”
Examiner, March 25, 1918, p.11. The first chapter played Monday to Wednesday.
Examiner, May 20, 1918, p.11. The ticket price has gone up: now fifteen cents, evenings.
In the serial films: “As ‘girl spies,’ ‘girl detectives,’ ‘girl reporters,’ ‘girl telegraphers,’ or as effervescent heiresses with an appetite for prenuptial adventure, heroines transgressed the conventional boundaries of female experience.”
This “female mobility,” Singer goes on, “was necessary for the sake of modern capitalism.” Still, as he also points out, the larger social structures were not entirely threatened within the confines of the serial genre, which “coupled an ideology of female power with an equally vivid exposition of female defensiveness and weakness.” (See also “Women and Silent Film Days.)
After World War I
Examiner, April 15, 1920, p.9. The infamous (but now almost forgotten) Evelyn Nesbit; the ubiquitous Hoot Gibson, who would stick around through “B Western” days and show up for John Ford’s The Horse Soldiers (1959) and Ocean’s 11 (1960); and a Harold Lloyd short comedy.
By 1920 the age of the storefront theatre in town had truly come to an end (although attempts at a similar use of space would be revived decades later). In 1919–20 the Strand, now under a male manager, Richard Furlong, and with its “Pictures That Excel,” was offering the cheapest seats in town, with tickets at 11 and 16 cents. In tune with its prices, it was showing the cheaper fare of the day, and especially serials, including the fifteen-chapter The Tiger’s Trail (1919) starring Ruth Roland, a rival of Pearl White in that genre.
Looking back in 1947 an appreciative Examiner writer recalled that the Strand featured “wild and wooly western shows that were popular with the teenagers” — particularly, he said, the films of Hoot Gibson and “the daring exploits of Mrs. Vernon Castle” (well-known dancer Irene Castle was in a few films on her own after her partner and husband, Vernon, died in the war).
By that time what was then Peterborough’s longest-lasting motion picture site, which had opened as the Crystal in 1907 in a former dry goods store, was on its last legs. Although an industry report said it had “been operated with good success,” its cramped space and aging fixtures were no longer up to snuff. As early as 1918 the Schneider Brothers, still in love with the idea of showing motion pictures, and perhaps the profits to be made, had begun thinking about closing it down and building a larger theatre.
Examiner, June 1, 1920, p.9. The end of the run.
On the last day of May 1920, the Strand had its standard announcement, for “Monday Only” – William Desmond “in a fine comedy drama,” The Blue Bandanna (1919), Chester Conklin in a comedy short, The Tamale Army (1915), an “O’Henry Story” (a series regularly featured at the theatre), and a Gaumont Pictorial. But ads that day and the next also advised patrons to “watch” for the opening of a “new and up-to-date” theatre. The bill presented on that Monday turned out to be the end of the run for the small space at 408 George.
The following day a notice advised patrons that the theatre was being “closed for removal to new premises.”
July 2020, with pandemic-era street posts in place, and no horseback Buffalo Bill to be seen.
Soon after that another completely different type of amusement, the Dominion Billiard Company, moved into 408 George. After the short-lived Central Billiards of 1925–26, in 1928 the Liquor Control Board of Ontario took over, dispensing much-needed beverages for a decade and a half. After that, for some thirty years the storefront housed a couple of paint stores, Lowe Brothers (1946–72) and Sherwin Williams Co. of Canada (1973–77). Around 1980 Caryn’s Bath Boutique moved in for a few years. During the following decades a succession of small businesses moved in and out, including the Melting Pot, a photocopying shop, and the Peace Pipe. The rooms above the stores were occupied by dentist offices and various clubs, such as the Forresters Hall and Belmont Club, along with residential space open to boarders, merchants, or owners of the stores below. The ghost of the little storefront movie theatre that had opened in autumn 1907 no longer lingered in the James T. Henthorn Building. I worry that it’s only a matter of time before the “Crystal” awning next door also disappears forever.
The Peace Pipe at 408 George St. N. — once, long ago, the busy, cozy home of the Crystal/Red Mill/Strand.