I’m a huge fan of Samuel Maclure, a BC-born architect with an incredible design range. Maclure designed almost 500 houses in his 40-year career including the audacious Hatley Castle in Victoria, Gabriola on Davie Street, and Brock House at Jericho Beach.
There are several books about Samuel Maclure, but my favourite is Janet Bingham’s.
It’s been out of print for years so I was delighted to see that she has contributed a section to Thorley Park to Brock House: from family home to heritage landmark 1912-2012, a book that celebrates the house’s 100th anniversary.
The book is filled with archival photos and has undergone some skilful editing by Jo Pleshakov who was also involved in the Story of Dunbar in 2009. But what I enjoyed most was reading the different points of view from family members who either lived there at some point or had some other personal connection to the house.
Richard and Andrew Gilman, descendants of the original owner Philip Gilman kick off the first section. Gilman commissioned Maclure to design his house in 1909, although according to Bingham, he was exceptionally hands on and his attention to detail was “intensive.”
Gilman came to BC to work as an assayer for the government of BC after spending his early school years in Paris, Rome and Madrid, and studying mining and metallurgy at an English university. He became part of a land syndicate and by 1910 had land holdings worth more than $2.5 million, and is said to have told his wife that “only Armageddon could damage our progress at this point.”
Samuel Maclure
Armageddon hit BC in 1913, and like many others Gilman lost his fortune. He managed to hang on to the house until 1922 when it sold to Mildred Brock for $40,000.
Peter Brock takes over the story and tells us that for the next 13 years, Mildred and Reg raised four sons, and entertained a bunch of interesting people including Bertrand Russell, Sir Percy Sykes, Lord and Lady Allenby and Lady Baden-Powell. In 1935, she and Reg died in a plane crash near Whistler.
In the 1930s mansions were not in demand and eventually the Brock’s children sold the house for the fire sale price of $11,000 to mining executive David Tait. Tait’s grandson Robert McConnell takes the story of the house up until 1952, when it became offices for the RCMP and the story is handed over to Staff Sgt. Major Bob Underhill.
By 1971, the RCMP had left the building and it stood empty. Jericho Tennis Club and the Royal Vancouver Yacht Club pooled their resources and offered $300,000, the Vancouver Board of Parks and Recreation offered $1. Neither offer was accepted. As the years passed the house was broken into and vandalized, was turned into a movie set for the National Film Board. It is now a senior’s activity centre.
Capi Blanchet was found dead in 1961, slumped over her typewriter while writing a sequel to The Curve of Time. For a writer, that’s not a bad way to go. The tragedy in Capi’s case is that she died without ever having an inkling of the success her book would enjoy. There was no way for her to know that a half century into the future, her book would be republished in a 50th-anniversary edition and be a regional best-seller.
Capi with Pam on the beach near her house. Courtesy Tara Blanchet
Born in Montreal, Muriel Liffiton married Geoffrey Blanchet, a banker when she was 18. In 1922 the family drove out west and bought Clovelly, a house designed by Samuel Maclure near Sidney. Soon after moving in, the Blanchets bought a boat called the Caprice. In 1927 Geoffrey took the boat out and never returned. That left 33-year-old Capi to raise five kids aged between two and 14, and to wonder if it was accident or suicide.
The resourceful Capi rented out her house, packed up her kids and Irish setter, and set off for what would be the family’s annual journey around British Columbia’s rugged coastline. The rent supplemented her income, and the trips provided the basis for her book.
Blanchet, M. Wylie. The Curve of Time (50th anniversary edition). Whitecap, 2011.
Gwen Cash (1891–1983)
Gwen Cash portrait by Myfanwy Pavelic appeared on the cover of Off the Record. Jack Cash photo.
When Gwen Cash went to work for Walter Nichol at the Vancouver Daily Province in 1917, she was one of the first women general reporters in the country. Gwen and her husband Bruce settled in Victoria in January 1935. She was the public relations officer for the Empress Hotel and wrote three books including her memoir, Off the Record. In 1954 she had John di Castri design a house to prove that small didn’t have to mean a box. Called the Trend House, it was one of 11 built in Canada and sponsored by BC forest industries to boost retail lumber, plywood, and shingle sales. At 835 sq.ft. Gwen’s house was the smallest, but also the most talked about. “Conventional Victorian viewers, addicted to pseudo-Tudor or modern box construction, were puzzled and vaguely angered by its unique design. Like modern painting it was something that they couldn’t understand,” she wrote. The house was opened to the public for three months and more than 34,000 people trekked through.
Cash, Gwen. Off the Record. Stagecoach, 1977.
Sylvia Holland (1900-1974)
Sylvia Holland at Disney in the 1940s. Courtesy Theo Halladay
Sylvia Holland met her Canadian husband at architectural school in London, England. They moved to Victoria in 1925 and designed their house. Two years later Frank was dead and Sylvia was left to raise two babies on the eve of the Depression. To make ends meet, Sylvia rented out her house and moved to Metchosin, where Frank’s parents had a farm. Even during those lean times, she managed two architectural commissions. When Boris was diagnosed with the same infection that had killed his father, Sylvia moved to Los Angeles and was hired by Universal Studios and then by MGM as a background artist. Walt Disney hired her as one of his first women animators, and she worked on productions such as Fantasia and Bambi. She worked for Disney for several years, bought an acre of land in the San Fernando Valley and designed a large two-storey house where she set about developing the Balinese breed of cat. She never married again. “All the single guys at Disney were courting her, but she chose to retain her independence,” says her daughter Theo. “She said, ‘If I had a man, what would I do with him?’”
Nellie McClung (1873-1951)
Nellie McClung in th garden of her Ferndale Road home ca1949. Courtesy Saanich Archives
When Nellie retired to Gordon Head in 1935 and made sauerkraut and dill pickles from her garden, few neighbours realized how famous she was until her image came out on a 1974 postage stamp. Nellie fought for women’s rights and her accomplishments are long and awe inspiring. In 1900 a woman’s salary was legally the property of her husband. He had control of their children, and of her. The law defined an eligible voter as “a male person, including an Indian and excluding a person of Mongolian or Chinese race.” And, if that wasn’t clear enough; the Election Act went on to say: “No woman, idiot, lunatic or criminal shall vote.”
Nellie raised five kids in rural Manitoba. By 1908, she had written the first of 16 books. That novel, Sowing Seeds in Danny sold over 100,000 copies—outselling Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables, which came out the same year—in a country where 5,000 is still considered a best-seller.
In 1928, she was one of five women who went to the Supreme Court of Canada to insist women are “persons,” and eligible to be named to the Senate. She campaigned for the Liberals in 1935, was the first woman to sit on the CBC board of directors the following year, and in 1938, represented Canada in 1938 at the League of Nations in Geneva.
McClung, Nellie. The Complete Autobiography. Broadview Press, 2003.
Helen Gregory MacGill (1864-1947)
Helen was the first woman to graduate from Toronto’s University of Trinity College, and she was the first woman judge in B.C. From 1917 she presided over Vancouver’s Juvenile Court, fighting for the rights of women and children. Her husband was a sketchy lawyer and their finances went up and down with the times. The MacGill’s bought a house in Vancouver’s West End in 1908, and lost it five years later when they couldn’t afford the taxes.
By 1926 Helen’s judge’s salary had increased to $100 a month, she received $3,000 in damages from an accident settlement and they bought back the Harwood Street house. The house withstood the apartment blitz of the 1950s and is a strata conversion painted a regal red.
The MacGill’s younger daughter Elsie (1905-1980) became a trend setter like her Mum. She was the first woman to receive an electrical degree in Canada and the first woman aircraft designer in the world. She earned the name “Queen of the Hurricanes” for her work on the Hawker Hurricane fighters during the Second World War.
MacGill, Elsie Gregory. My Mother the Judge. Toronto: Ryerson Press, 1955.
Alvo von Alvensleben not only has a name you couldn’t make up, he’s one of the most fascinating characters in BC’s history. For some mysterious reason he has never rated a biography, but there is a chapter dedicated to him in my book At Home with History. I was just browsing my bookshelf and thinking what an interesting bunch of men and women BC has produced. Here are five men that I wish I’d met.
Angelo Branca, judge (1903-1984)
Angelo Branca grew up at 343 Prior Street with parents Teresa and Filippo, two brothers John and Joseph and sister Anne. As a lawyer he represented the madams and bootleggers of the East End and eventually became a BC Supreme Court judge. Filippo ran the grocery store on Main Street and he and Peter Tosi and Sam Minichiello were the three biggest importers of California grapes in the area. My favourite story comes from Ray Culos whose grandfather was Sam Minichiello, and says that the joke in the neighbourhood was that wine was a family affair. Filippo would sell the grapes to the bootleggers, his son John, a detective with the dry-squad would arrest them, and his other son, Angelo, would get them off in court.
Moore, Vincent. Gladiator of the Courts: Angelo Branca. Vancouver: Douglas and McIntyre, 1981.
Samuel Maclure, architect (1860-1929)
There are several books about Samuel Maclure, but the one by Janet Bingham is my favourite. I found my copy in a James Bay second hand bookstore/coffee shop and thought I’d won the lottery. Born just outside New Westminster, Maclure worked as a telegrapher in Vancouver before spending a year at art school and turning to architecture. Maclure had considerable design range and his legacy can be seen in hundreds of buildings around British Columbia. His buildings include the flamboyant Charles Murray Queen Anne house in New Westminster (1890), Gabriola on Davie Street (1901) and Hatley Castle in 1925.
Bingham, Janet. Samuel Maclure Architect. Horsdal and Schubart, 1985.
Walter Mulligan, chief of police (1904-1987)
At 42, Walter Mulligan was the youngest chief of police and the most corrupt. By 1955, he had 700 people under his command in a culture where cops routinely took bribes from bookies, bootleggers and hardened criminals. That was the year he was caught with his hand in the till after a former Province reporter broke the story about epidemic police corruption. Things unravelled quickly when detective sergeant Len Cuthbert tried to kill himself with his service revolver. He survived and told a police inquiry that he and Mulligan doubled their salaries with bribes. Apart from a girlfriend who lived in Strathcona, Mulligan had a fairly modest existence. He and his wife lived in an ordinary bungalow at 1155 West 50th Avenue. Partway through the police inquiry he moved to California and worked in a nursery. Later he became a bus dispatcher and retired to Oak Bay, where he died at 83.
Macdonald, Ian & O’Keefe, Betty. The Mulligan Affair: Heritage House Publishing, 1997.
Francis Rattenbury, architect (1867-1935)
In 1892, 25-year-old Francis Rattenbury won a competition to design the Parliament Buildings over 60 other architects. Before long he had a slew of buildings after his name including the Empress Hotel, the Crystal Gardens, the CPR Steamship Building and the Vancouver Court House. In 1898, he stunned Victoria’s society by marrying Florence Eleanor Nunn, the adopted daughter of a boarding-house keeper. Gradually, things unraveled. In 1923, with his career and marriage crumbling, Rattenbury met Alma Pakenham, a young divorcee. They married and moved to Bournemouth, England, where by all accounts Rattenbury should have died in obscurity. Instead Alma took up with the 18-year-old chauffeur, George Stoner. In a fit of jealousy, George bashed Rattenbury to death in 1935. Both Alma and George were tried for murder, Alma was acquitted, but after hearing George would hang, she promptly stabbed herself to death, fell into a river and drowned. George later had his death sentence overturned.
Reksten, Terry. Rattenbury. Victoria: Sono Nis Press, 1978.
LD Taylor, serial mayor (1857-1946)
LD Taylor is the most elected mayor in Vancouver’s history, winning nine elections, losing seven, and serving eight terms between 1910 and 1934. He looks like a nerdy little man in his trademark red tie and owlish glasses, but he was actually a bigamist and flamboyant risk taker. In 1905, he bought the Vancouver World newspaper from Sara McLagan, sister of Samuel Maclure and built the Sun Tower. LD supported an eight-hour work day and women’s suffrage, and during his watch he oversaw the opening of YVR and the Burrard Street bridge. He had a relaxed approach to gambling, bootlegging and prostitution. He once told a reporter that he didn’t believe that it was the mayor’s job to make Vancouver a “Sunday school town.”
Francis, Daniel. Mayor Louis Taylor and the Rise of Vancouver. Arsenal Pulp Press 2004.
I haven’t forgotten our women. I’ll be looking at five strong women who crashed through barriers and put their stamp on our province in very different ways.
Mayor Gregor Robertson held a press conference Friday announcing the City’s receipt of a $30-million anonymous donation to reopen Taylor Manor. After an extensive renovation and upgrade, the house will provide housing for 56 people with mental health issues who now live on the streets of Vancouver.
The City built the Tudor Revival-style house in 1915 as a dormitory for destitute seniors and named it the Vancouver Old People’s Home. When it opened it had separate entrances for men and women. In 1946, it was renamed Taylor Manor after L.D. Taylor, Vancouver’s serial mayor. L.D. is still the most elected mayor in our history, winning nine elections, losing seven, and serving eight terms between 1910 and 1934.
While a photo of L.D. shows him as a slight looking, bland little man in owlish glasses, he was actually a bigamist and a flamboyant risk taker known for his trademark red tie and cigar. He published and edited the BC Mining Record, the Oil and Mining Record and the Critic, a paper on public issues. In 1905, he bought the Vancouver World newspaper from Sara McLagan, the sister of noted architect Samuel Maclure.
In keeping with his mega ambitions, in 1912 L.D. built a 17-storey Beaux-Arts building to house his newspaper. It was the highest building in the British Empire at the time, and caused a minor scandal for its nine near-naked women sculpted by Charles Marega.
The owners of the Vancouver Sun bought the building in 1937, and it’s been known as the Sun Tower ever since.
The Vancouver Sun Tower
According to Daniel Francis’s highly readable biography, L.D. was an American-born accountant, who left his wife and young son in Chicago and headed for Vancouver in 1896 after he was accused of fraud.
Despite this shaky start, L.D. was a popular mayor. He supported the progressive idea of an eight-hour work day, universal suffrage for women and city planning. During his watch, L.D. oversaw the opening of the Vancouver International Airport and the Burrard Street bridge.
He had a relaxed approach to gambling, bootlegging and prostitution. In 1924, he told a Province reporter he didn’t believe that it was the mayor’s job to make Vancouver a “Sunday school town.”
Although Taylor lends his name to Taylor Manor, he never lived there. In 1917 he lived on the top floor of the Caroline Court at the corner of Thurlow and Nelson in the West End. By 1920, he moved to what was once the Granville Mansions at Robson and Granville, where he lived in rather meagre circumstances until his death in 1946 at age 88.
Last week Heritage Vancouver released its annual top ten list of endangered heritage sites in Vancouver. Three schools topped the list, but the residence considered most in danger is the four-hectare Shannon Estate at the corner of Granville and 57th. Note that it’s not the 40-room mansion that’s under threat, it’s Shannon Mews, the infill townhouse development designed by Arthur Erickson, that’s on the block.
The Shannon Estate is valued at $43 million and because the estate is a huge chunk of land in a sought after area, it’s not going to stay the way it is now. It’s also under the allowable density and that’s a problem because loading up the density on the site with glass and steel towers will most definitely impact the context of the estate, which at the moment, still feels like an estate.
Shannon Mews–Erickson Massey designed townhouse development, 2011
The City of Vancouver gives developers density bonuses to preserve and maintain heritage in Vancouver. In other words, instead of levelling an old mansion for a 20-storey skyscraper, a developer would incorporate the mansion into the development in exchange for a 22-storey skyscraper. The 1899 mansion at the corner of Georgia and Jervis Streets that sits next to two 37-storey towers is an example. For saving the house and turning it into five condos, Wall Financial Corp (which also owns Shannon) got two extra floors on each tower as their heritage density bonus.
The problem, says Donald Luxton, president of Heritage Vancouver, is that the City has stopped using density bonuses strictly for heritage, but is now using them for everything from daycare to social housing. “What we are asking,” Luxton told the Vancouver Historical Society, “is how much is too much?”
B.T. Rogers
I wrote the story of Shannon in At Home with History, and it’s a fascinating one. B.T. Rogers, Vancouver’s first millionaire industrialist and founder of BC Sugar, built the Samuel Maclure-designed Gabriola on Davie Street in 1900. A decade later, Rogers bought 10 acres in the country and had Somervell & Putnam architects design a house that would be the largest west of Toronto. Unfortunately, the economy tanked in 1913 and war broke out the following year, delaying construction until 1915. Three years later, Rogers, 52, died from a cerebral haemorrhage leaving his widow Mary to raise seven children at Gabriola. Mary finished Shannon in 1925 and lived there for 11 years until selling Shannon to Austin C Taylor, president of Bralorne gold mine for $105,600. Taylor stayed until his death in 1965. Developer Peter Wall bought Shannon and hired architect Arthur Erickson to turn the property into a housing development.
The proposed development at 57th and Granville
The 14-storey Tower Proposal
At present there are 162 suites in the two-storey buildings designed by Erickson Massey in 1974. The current proposal leaves the mansion, coach and gate house intact, retains some of the landscaping, but razes the entire townhouse development and most of the surrounding trees. In place of the townhouses are two towers of 13 and 14-stories and several smaller ones scattered about that bring the total count of suites to 891 and increase the number of residents from 340 to 1,600.
