Location: Rochdale Road
The building that became the Royal Court Theatre didn’t start life as a theatre at all. It was originally an iron works and foundry, with parts of the structure dating back to the mid-19th century. After serious fires in the 19th century left the building badly damaged, the shell was later repurposed and converted into a theatre, opening as the Royal Court Theatre in the early 1890s, incorporating sections of the original foundry walls.
Over the decades, the venue adapted to changing tastes and local demand. Like many theatres of its era, it moved between live performance and cinema use at different times and it became known by several names along the way, including the Empire and later picture-house variants. Changes were also made to the interior across the 20th century, including alterations to balcony seating following a mid-century structural report.
What’s kept the Royal Court going, though, is local commitment. Bacup’s dramatic society has long been tied to the theatre, stepping in at points to help keep it operating when closure threatened. In the 2010s the building faced another major wobble, closing in 2015 due to outstanding debts, before a volunteer-led group formed to save it and successfully reopened it in January 2017. Today it continues as a working theatre, hosting amateur and professional performances and keeping live entertainment rooted in Bacup.
Through fires, reinvention and changing fashions, the building has remained a familiar landmark on Rochdale Road, continually reshaped by the people who use it.
Royal Court Theatre
This mosaic reflects the atmosphere and architectural character of the Royal Court Theatre rather than depicting the building directly. The arched form and layered stonework echo the theatre’s historic entrance, while the warm gold and red tones suggest stage lighting, curtains and the sense of anticipation that comes with live performance. Together, the shapes and colours capture the feeling of stepping from the street into a shared creative space, where imagination, community and storytelling meet.
Empire Of The Cat
Elaine Horgan
Kitty has lived at the theatre for a very long time
In fact her lives may have exceeded the usual nine.
With four velvet paws she ruled the Royal Court
And many a neighbourhood Tom had been her consort.
She played leading lady in a number of roles
And as of yet she’s never received any cat calls.
‘My blithe spirit reviews remain unsurpassed
While my ghost of Elriva can’t be outclassed.
Ive starred in mousetrap without catching a mouse
But my lively performance brought down the house.
I can be angry and spiteful, enigmatic, aloof
Ive burnt my four paws on a hot tin roof.
Though I am loathe to admit my great escapade
Was when I slept in a handbag the nanny mislaid.
‘Is this the bag?’ said Jack as he waved it about
And lady Bracknell ad libbed ‘That’s let the cat out,’
With her usual air of stoicism
As I leapt out the bosom of a startled Miss Prism.’
Kitty was no only a star in theatre plays
She was also quite active in music hall days.
‘I trod the boards a certain little lady
When George Formby sang and played ukulele.
Although it wasn’t music but more the variety
Where I actually gained my great notoriety.
And showed off my daring on the flying trapeze.
‘I could juggle four balls whilst laid on my back
And just like Houdini I could escape from a sack.
But as a magicians assistant I had no success
Due to my plucking a pigeon and making a mess.
And then when the rabbit was found dead in a hat
Mr Marvel demanded they ‘Get rid of that cat!’
Catastrophe came when the flea circus hit town
I was so badly infested I was almost put down.’
Kitty watched movies when it became the big screen
And dreamt she was part of the Hollywood scene.
She ate lunch with Chaplain and supper with Keaton
When the finest caviar and oysters were eaten.
‘I courted my suitors with flirtatious chit chat
And saw the moggies as moguls rich and cat fat.
I met a Russian Blue boy, an inveterate sprayer,
I named him affectionately as Louis B Mayer
I cast my coat on the couch of Cat B DeMille
But it was so out of season I caught quite a chill.
I was lured by the charms of a swashbuckling Manx
Who co-opted the name of Douglas Fairbanks.
My heart set aflutter and my tail went into a spin
When down from the light fittings swung Errol Flynn.
My greatest love for them all was Thomas O’Malley
No matinee idol just a cat from the alley.’
Kitty watched the silver screen rise and then fall
To be followed by the advent of the bingo hall.
No more drama, no footlights, no singing, no dance
Her Empire doors opened to a game of chance
Which was played with a random selection of balls
Their numbers read out in a doggerel calls.
Then to my rescue along came Bacup Am Dram
And I was able to dance with the King of Siam.
I slept on red velvet inside Audrey Two
And hitched a ride with Pricilla and sat in the shoe.
Now every year around Christmas time
I still play a role in each pantomime,
I had a romance with Dick Whittington’s cat
And once played myself wearing boots and a hat.
I’ve climbed up a beanstalk and fallen on jack
And came out of a lamp but couldn’t get back.’
Kitty has now lived so long in the role of mine host
It’s quite widely reputed she may be a ghost!
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Empire of the Cat
