When future historians look back on our time they may well agree that William Martin Alleyne Cecil, the seventh Marquess of Exeter (shown at right), lived one of the great lives of the 20th century. Lord Martin left the comfortable life of the british aristocracy at the age of 21 and moved to Canada to pioneer the sparsely settled Cariboo region of British Columbia. Martin had never been to Canada and knew nothing of cattle ranching but he took his move into the unknown in stride.

On April 27, 1930, as Martin and his father crossed the endless prairies of Manitoba and Saskatchewan, Martin celebrated his 21st birthday. The train worked its way through the Rocky Mountains and reached Kamloops, British Columbia where Lord Exeter’s agent, C.G. Cowan, waited to greet the two arrivals. Cowan was active in the land business and it was through him that Lord Exeter had bought the Bridge Creek Ranch at 100 Mile House, British Columbia in 1912. Shown at left are ranch overseer C.G. Cowan, and the Marquess and Marchioness of Exeter in the 1930s.

The town of 100 Mile House is so named because it was 100 miles from the start of the Cariboo gold rush trail at Lillooet, and was a favourite watering hole for fur traders who moved into the interior of B.C. in the footsteps of explorers like Alexander Mackenzie. Martin decided that the first necessity was to build a modern hotel or Lodge that would attract the travelling public and put 100 Mile on the map—‘modern’ meaning that there would be running water and at least one bathroom.

Martin enrolled in a correspondence course on architecture and bought manuals on plumbing, wiring, and other subjects, studying at night by the light of an oil lamp as the work progressed. The lumber for the lodge came from a small sawmill (shown at left) which Syd Stephenson had erected a mile or two away on Bridge Creek; it was powered by a water-driven turbine located beside a waterfall.

Once, the walls began to bulge under the weight of the roof that Martin was putting on. His books had not prepared him for such a catastrophe, but he did some quick thinking and hit upon a solution. He collected some haying gear and rigged up a block and tackle arrangement between the two walls, with one end of the steel cable attached to his Model A coupe. He then pulled the walls together and spiked a couple of jackpines across the top as joists. They are still part of the structure to this day.

It took two years to complete the 100 Mile Lodge, as it was called; because of the severe winters, the work could only be done in the summer. The 100 Mile Lodge contained nine rooms upstairs. Downstairs there was a cozy living room, complete with a large fireplace, and two dining rooms, one for guests, the other for the ranch crew. Martin had built an apartment for himself adjoining the living room. This also had a fireplace: more than once, on a cold spring night, he warmed a newborn lamb by the fire to save it from freezing to death.

The Cariboo was a trusting, open place in those days. The 100 Mile Lodge was rarely locked. When guests arrived they found a blackboard listing the various rooms and the prices, and if no one was around they simply chose a room, marked it off on the blackboard, and made themselves at home. Sometimes the 100 Mile Lodge would be empty when the staff went to bed—and full in the morning. Early risers left payment on their pillow, or on the desk; seldom did anyone leave without paying.

Martin had a standing policy during those Depression years. He would always feed anyone who needed a meal if they were willing to do some work in exchange. Since cooking and heating were done by wood, there was usually lots of work at the woodpile. The 100 Mile Lodge quickly established an excellent reputation for itself. “It was very plush indeed, at least for those days,” says Mrs. Hugh Cornwall who stayed there often during the 1930’s and used to go out and pick mushrooms for the guests’ meals. “The food was excellent—steak and mushrooms, fresh strawberries from Canim Lake, homemade pies and so on.”

The 100 Mile Lodge had served travelers on the Cariboo Highway for more than 30 years—and served them well. In the fall of 1964 Martin raised the possibility of building a new motel complex, with first class dining facilities and a banquet room. The new development would be substantially larger than the Lodge. In the spring of 1965 local contactor Ian Galpin fired up the bulldozer and began leveling the site for a new motel complex to be named the Red Coach Inn.

• One Heart, One Way, The Life and Legacy of Martin Exeter by Chris Foster
• Bridge Creek Estate web site (source of photos)

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