CHAPTER THREE

A cultural and intellectual wilderness ?

Auckland libraries and institutions of self and mutual improvement.

In his Presidential speech to the New Zealand Library Association in 1947 John Harris suggested that the development of libraries in New Zealand up to 1910 had been hindered because ‘New Zealanders appeared to distrust distinction, dislike brilliancy, and doubt originality. Their idol in those days was honest wholesome Mediocrity.’ Harris maintained that the early history of New Zealand had been ‘dominated by material interests of the most vulgar kind.’ The result, he suggested, was a society which made ‘a fetish of the commonplace in public life.’ Money, not culture, was the mainstay of the country.

This kind of broad generalization about New Zealand society ignores evidence of an expansion of cultural and intellectual institutions before the turn of the century. By the mid-eighteen seventies Aucklanders had not only established libraries but had founded other institutions of self-improvement such as mutual improvement and debating societies. This would indicate that some Auckland settlers encouraged intellectual and cultural activities within the province.

In her examination of Auckland between 1870 and 1874, Judith Elphick claims that, although literary associations and institutes were small ventures, they ‘showed considerable vigour and breadth of interests greater than their name would imply.’ She suggests that even though Auckland was isolated there was an ‘availability of a vast range of newspapers, periodicals and books, at very little cost, [which] all point to the importance of reading in leisure activities of Auckland society’. She also claims that Auckland was the first city in Australasia to establish a Society of Artists. Founded in April 1870, the Society promoted ‘the art of design, painting and sculpture, but it saw its role as colonial in scope, rather than local.’ Cultural and intellectual activity, although not profuse, were certainly present in the province.

This chapter examines the different models of libraries and literary associations which developed to cater for the intellectual and cultural needs of the Auckland settlers. It begins with an examination of the troubled Auckland Mechanics’ Institute, and engages with the public controversy over its service provision.. It expands into the outer boundaries of the province where a mass of literary associations and small libraries emerged from the fifties onwards and culminates with a discussion of the public library model which emerged with the establishment of the Auckland Public Library in 1880.

Local newspapers have been used as a primary source to evaluate public opinion on the development of libraries and institutes. Editorials and letters to the editor often generated lively debates which indicate a surprising level of awareness of library development overseas. Unfortunately the use of pseudonyms disguises the authors of all of the letters during this period. The amount of background knowledge in some letters indicates that some writers may have been intimately involved in the development of the libraries in Auckland.

Within the city boundaries a variety of libraries and reading rooms was available. By the seventies the inner city supported a mechanics’ institute, several circulating and commercial libraries, some suburban subscription libraries, dozens of literary and scientific societies with associated reading rooms, and a couple of religious institutions with libraries, plus the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA). In 1879 the first women’s reading room was set up in the city to provide a quiet space for working women during their lunch hours.

The first library, the Auckland Mechanics’ Institute, was founded and administered by a small group of upper-middle class gentlemen and officers. It was modelled on the British Mechanics’ Institutes and supported the belief that ‘instruction of the working classes by means of schools of various descriptions’ would ensure that mechanics learnt more than a fundamental knowledge of their trade. The trade off for the middle classes was that the provision of lectures and training would not only ensure that mechanics performed better at their jobs, but would also provide the mechanics with the opportunity to rub shoulders with those of ‘a better class’, thereby enabling them to become better citizens.

The history of the Auckland Mechanics’ Institute shows that the ideology of helping the ‘working man’ proved to be problematical. Judith Elphick’s analysis of the Institute Members Admission book for 1865 shows that ‘the majority of the members were indeed artisans and working men - carpenters, curriers, clerks, bakers and labourers, with a sprinkling of the professions.’ Over time, however, those who utilized the Institute were more likely to be white collar workers than blue. By 1872 the artisan was lost amongst the ‘employees of various banks, the Customs Service, the Police, and a number of brokers and merchants’.

Although the Institute was unable to fulfil the ideals behind the establishment of the Mechanics’ Institutes, it was partially successful in its objectives to promote useful and entertaining knowledge amongst its members and the wider community. The lectures and classes, when provided, were considered to be well attended. The President’s report to the Annual General Meeting on 6 February 1852 stated that the committee recognized that they had been unable to draw in many working class members, and ‘your committee felt that was ample cause to regret that an Institution promoted and carried for the furtherance of such objects as those of the Auckland Mechanics Institute does not count amongst its members a far greater number of that class for which more especially (as indeed it name would indicate) it is intended’.

The introduction of classes during the fifties as an attempt to draw in more ‘mechanics’ was unsuccessful. Colgan claims that by ‘1856 every class had been a total failure and all had been discontinued.’ Even attempts to draw in members with the provision of a new hall, at a cost of £440, and the provision of tea, coffee and biscuits in conjunction with chess and draughts were unsuccessful. The introduction of such services would seem to go against the heavily worded signs which flanked the wall of the reading room and library stating "Perfect silence" and "No Refreshments".

Michael Harris’s study of the foundation of American libraries would suggest that the Institute was not alone in this problem. He suggests that ‘the aristocratic and elite nature of the first trustees of America’s public libraries was often reflected in the men and women they selected to run their libraries’. He states that from ideals of humanitarianism came ‘cold, rigidly inflexible, and elitist institutions’ and with these grew the ‘library’s basic inability to achieve its clearly articulated purpose. For how could these men hope to reach the masses and guide them through literature when they were not of the masses, and very rarely understood the common people?’

An examination of the criticisms levelled at the administration of the Auckland Mechanics’ Institute shows that public feelings ran strongly against middle class interference. Not only were newspaper editorials critical of the reasons behind the establishment and administration of the Institute, but the ‘mechanics’ themselves questioned the lack of services to the working class man.

Questions of the siting of the Institute and its poor hours of opening were raised in the New Zealander by ‘Guillaume’ in 1856. Guillaume questioned why the site was ‘in an obscure part of the town - surrounded by a low neighbourhood - approached by difficult access, and with no friendly light to aid you in discovering it, [yet here] stands the "Auckland Mechanics’ Institute," - open two nights a week!’

In 1870 ‘Anthropos’ wrote that Mechanics’ Institutes had been converted from its original philanthropic purpose. Where Institutes had been properly managed and beneficially conducted ‘the result was evident in the existence of an intelligent and skilled class of operatives, whose superiority is the result of self- reliance’. The Auckland Mechanics’ Institute was a ‘melancholy contrast… by no manner of means calculated to advance the cause of science or literature amongst the working class here’. He suggested that although the institute was named after Mechanics the ‘anomaly is that in no part of its management are they (the working classes) permitted to have a share, nor perhaps would they be permitted to take a book and sit down alongside some of the inhabitants of that establishment least the nobility of their nostril should be offended by the wind that passeth between them and the honest hard sods of soil.’ The Mechanics Institute, he proclaimed, was one in name only because there were no lectures or evening classes provided to educate the apprenticed sons of mechanics who were obliged to go into a trade at an early age without opportunities for scholastic education. If the Institute was for the working class it would need to be managed by them to gain support. They could, suggested Anthropos, build a trades hall alongside the Institute so that meetings could be held away from the public houses . But instead of educating mechanics the Institute had become a place where men showed off their agility to their sweethearts and readers were being distracted by the continual sounds of dancing music from the lecture hall.

In 1871 ‘Leo’ was scathing of the performance of the Institute. He began his letter by discussing the need for a ‘counter-attraction’ to the public house and suggested that citizens would be better to stop fighting against the public houses and work together to ‘cultivate a taste for the rational recreations, particularly those of an intellectual character, and thus do something to restore the tone of the unhealthy moral system’. He went on to lament that there ‘is not in the whole city a library or reading room worthy of a moderate village’, and criticized the Mechanics’ Institute for its dingy, badly ventilated facility. The rooms of the Institute he proclaimed were ‘so crowded with benches and deal tables that it is impossible to sit there with any degree of comfort… the windows and gas globes are so encrusted with dirt that by day or night you can hardly see to read,’ and the newspapers and magazines were ‘allowed to become curiosities of antiquity almost before they are replaced.’ ‘Leo’ concluded that he hoped that there was no similar institution in the colony receiving such large government grants which was so badly managed.

In 1872 ‘Leo’ called for a new committee to run the institute which he considered had been driven down through ‘persistent mismanagement.’ He suggested that a new committee would fulfil the original ideology of the Institute by establishing reading rooms and classes. A week later ‘A Stranger within your gates’ reported that he had attended a meeting of the institute where ‘five hours were spent in doing what would not have occupied a board composed of real businessmen a tenth of that time, yet I believe that after all the bad grammar, farago and froth scattered about, one single Demosthenes of the lot succeeded in getting carried precisely what he seemed to be aiming at.’

Elphick claims that frustrations over the Institute ‘came to a head in mid-1872 when, at a crowded general special meeting, its members swollen with non-members, the Committee was turned out of office, amid cheers and hisses, and a Reform Committee duly installed.’ Although the new committee instituted a revised programme with classes on technical subjects, free access to the reading room and more generous borrowing privileges it was not long before the Institute was under pressure again.

In 1877 the idea that the institute should be providing an alternative to the public house was raised by ‘Citizen’. An engaging debate had been going on in the correspondence column of the Herald over the drinking habits of the working classes. Whereas an earlier correspondent had suggested that the introduction of cheap amusements would cure the desire for drink, ‘Citizen’ suggested such amusements ‘will always produce an excitement which rather adds to the desire (in many cases) for drink than stops such’. He indicated that there was a need to cultivate personal improvement in areas such as gardening, reading, music, singing, and drawing by the provision of instruction at real working men’s reading rooms, with libraries. ‘Our present Auckland Mechanics’ (?) Institute because of its singular position, is indeed, a sham and a laughing stock….The proper position for a real working men’s reading room would be half-way along the Karangahape Road, for one; a second low down in Freeman’s Bay; a third near Queen Street Wharf; and a fourth near Parnell Hill.’ Instead of providing huge public halls all that was necessary was a small reading room with a circulating library. When this was done Citizen suggested, working men might patronise bars and hotels less.

Clearly there was a large number of factors, including mismanagement, bad siting, and an inability to reach the working class reader, which worked against the success of the institute. Bad or non-existent collection development, inadequate levels of new reading material and the state of the building may have been other factors. The Mechanics Institute was situated in three rundown houses in what was considered a low neighbourhood in High Street (Figure 6). Tenders to add to the original building had been called in 1847 and two rooms had been added to the back of the Institute. Lack of finances would have made further maintenance a low priority. By 1872 it was described as a ‘ricketty weatherboard shanty’. Colgan describes the cluster of buildings as ‘neither "elegant nor commodious"… [standing] in shabby dignity for almost 40 years, looking down from its eminence on a city growing about and beyond it.’ It was this building which later housed the Auckland Public Library until its move into new premises in 1887. Colgan states that ‘within the building, water was coming in on the books, and members were heard to protest that they did not want to have to read yet again The Deerslayer, Adam Bede or Samuel Smiles’s Self Help.’

Colgan suggests that although the ‘improving’ quality of the Institute was considered to be a major factor behind its establishment, ‘books, be it noted, were by no means a first consideration. First priority was the "classes for regular instruction", second "lectures", and third "libraries".’ Colgan’s view is supported by the Librarian’s Report of November 1869. The Librarian was becoming increasingly critical of the minuscule amount of money spent on the purchase of books for the reading room and suggested that the Institute spend a small amount of its subscriptions on the ‘purchase of a few books occasionally’. Even if the debating classes held at the Institute were ‘instructive and engender a well directed taste for reading works, having for their end general utility,’ the lack of books in the library meant that most members had to find alternative providers for their reading material. The Report also stated that the librarian had ‘taken a step to remedy an evil which has lately grown into a nuisance by putting up a notice setting forth that dogs would not be allowed to enter with subscribers. I hope it will be effectual.’

Evidence from the newspapers and the Librarians’ Report has shown that the quantity and quality of books at the Institute library were not high. Low funding meant that books were donated rather than purchased. These were often discards and may not have been fitting reading for ‘mechanics’. The siting and hours of the library did not meet the needs of the working class borrower. With this kind of evidence available it is surprising to find Judith Elphick suggesting that ‘of all the institutions, the Mechanics’ Institute offered the best borrowing facilities in terms of choice and efficiency of library administration. The traffic in borrowing also points to its popularity’. During the time of her study the Mechanics’ Institute reported a rise in membership to 395. Book issues numbered 14,000, which indicated a rate of approximately 35 books borrowed per member. It is however, very difficult to make comparisons with other libraries when there is no documentation available of either members or issues. The only competitors would have been the commercial or circulating libraries and subscription libraries. A redeeming feature of the Institute may have been the low subscription rate of 10/- per annum, as opposed to the pound required to join a commercial circulating library such as Chapman’s. The Institute also offered free access to newspapers supplied in the reading room.

By the 1860s some of the suburbs had sufficient population to support a library. A ‘well attended’ public meeting was held in Onehunga at the Church of England school room on 25 June 1861, ‘for the purpose of considering the establishment of a Public Library and Reading Room’. Organized by the Onehunga Mutual Improvement Class, the meeting was called to form a committee to pursue the idea of the construction of a building which could be used as a library or reading room and provide somewhere for settlers to congregate and hold public meetings. The culmination of the work of the committee was the opening of the Onehunga Institute in 1862. The cost of the building was L180. Ostensibly erected as an Institute for the young men of Onehunga the 30’x50’ building was for the use of all those who wished to enter. At the opening D. Kirkwood discussed the achievements of the Mechanics’ Institutes in Britain and concluded that he hoped that this Institute would not degenerate into a ‘mere literary lounge, as had been so often the case in the mother country and elsewhere.’ The Rev. Mr. Laishley stated that it ‘had not been called a "Mechanics’ " Institute for the express purpose that it was not intended for one, but for all classes.’ He suggested that ‘institutions like this were but one part of the machinery in the development of the intellectuality of the human race… it was not by accident that men became eminent. The opportunity which was open to them was open to all…’

By 1879 support had dropped away and a report in the Herald stated that the Onehunga Free Reading Room (also known as the Onehunga Public Library, Onehunga Institute, or Onehunga Public Reading Room and Library) ‘dragged a feeble existence, like many others of its class’. The major problem facing the Institute was a substantial debt incurred in the construction of a new reading room. It now offered a large and commodious room on a central site, with free access to everyone between the hours of 1-4pm, and 7-9pm daily. By this time over 800 well selected volumes graced its shelves for the discerning reader to indulge their reading needs. It was claimed that all that was needed was an influx of new members to recover debts and keep the library operative.

In addition to these two Institutes, there was a wide variety of intellectual, religious and cultural institutions functioning on a weekly, fortnightly or monthly basis in the inner city and suburbs. Many of these operated a small library or reading room for their members. More often than not the library was merely a book shelf where books could be exchanged, but in some cases the reading room was quite spacious and members were not only provided with local and overseas newspapers, but had a supply of magazines as well as the library proper. Some institutions also provided a ‘leisure’ room in an attempt to draw in the young men of the area for a social game of draughts or chess.

The Auckland reading rooms never reached the level of use attained by those in Britain where photographs of the commercial public English reading rooms showed scores of people gathered around tables covered in newspapers (Figure 2). Often rows of hard-backed chairs dotted the edges of the tables which were placed in the central area of the library floor. There was hardly any space to breathe, let alone relax and read the paper or view the latest novel. The reading rooms of institutes or clubs tended to be more sedate affairs. Here gentlemen could relax in comfortable chairs, smoke a cigarette and lighten the load of their daily toil.

The idea of the reading room as a group meeting place rather than a quiet space was taken up by the Institutes and fits in with the image of Aucklanders described by Elphick: ‘Aucklanders loved crowds. This was a feature of the city’s social life.’ Rules of conduct and silence were not always enforced. The Newmarket Literary Institute and Reading Room described problems with limited space and people smoking. In 1880 a meeting was held to discuss extending the reading room and library to accommodate those who wished to smoke, so that they did not impose on others. The chairman, Mr. John McColl, suggested that ‘at present the room was often crowded, and there was sometimes a great deal of discontent manifested when smoking and conversations took place.’

In October 1879 a reading room was opened for young women in the inner city. The Herald reported that it had been visited by 40 different girls, some of whom now visited the premises frequently. The room was opened daily, over the lunch hour and provided donated magazines and books for perusal by young women. Several weeks later S. Rout wrote a letter to the editor asking for donations to the Young Women’s Institute so that a circulating library might be started on the premises. The women’s reading room now supported two rooms, one for reading and one other which functioned as a luncheon room.

An association which provided lectures to the young men of the city was the Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Society. In a lecture delivered in 1883, John Blackman discussed the evolution of Mutual Improvement Societies and suggested that the increase in interest was due to the rise of cheap literature. Blackman believed this and the cessation of the Chartist societies had caused an upsurge in the number of Mechanics’ Institutes. By 1851 there were over 3000 Institutes in towns and villages through Britain. Both the Chartists and the founders of the Mechanics’ Institutes had believed that there was a need to expand education amongst ‘the poorest classes through the provision of schools and libraries.’

Blackman went on to suggest that the reason that many such societies had short life-spans was that they insisted on regular attendance at all meetings. He claimed that ‘when members have attained something like proficiency in the class, and their purposes have been fulfilled, they are apt to leave the society for studies in connection with the daily avocations of busy life, the class being no longer of service to them’. The young men of Auckland, suggested Blackman, ‘and of the colonies generally are of a volatile disposition, and in numerous instances sadly lacking the durable characteristics of their English forefathers. Young men are continually wanting a change…are apt to get married…and then leave the attractions of the association for home.’ It might be suggested in hindsight that the rigid rules of some associations drove away the very people they sought to gain as members. While the rules may have been appropriate in the more stable society at ‘Home’, in the new colony where things were undergoing constant change, being relaxed about attendance may have ensured a greater level of support.

The Athenaeum Literary and Debating Society and Auckland Literary Societies Union and Auckland Union Parliament annual pamphlet lists dozens of Mutual Improvement Societies throughout the inner city region. In 1879 the following associations were meeting on a weekly basis under the umbrella of the Auckland Union: Auckland Mechanics Institute, YMCA, Auckland Institute and Museum, St James Mutual Improvement Society, Weslyan Young Men’s Literary Improvement and Debating Class, Devonport Literary Club, Auckland Catholic Literary Institute (Wellington Street), United Free Methodists’ Improvement Class, Alexandra Street Literary Institute, Havelock Historic Association, Beresford Literary and Debating Society, Hibernian Australasian Catholic Benefit Society, Onehunga Literary Institute and Reading Room. Within ten years they had been joined by groups from New Lynn, Newmarket, Ponsonby, Otahuhu, Paparoa, Papakura and Thames.

In the rural areas the Mutual Improvement Associations were of equal importance as those established in the towns. Mr B. M. Gubb recalled that ‘the mental culture of Port Albert was forwarded by a Mutual Improvement Society, quite unique, prosperous and popular among the young people, bearing the name for years of the Saturday Half-Holiday Club, combining sport in the afternoon, a social tea and literary recreation in the evening’. He suggested that this organisation prospered for a great many years and was aided by the early establishment of the public library.

Brett and Hook cite Recollections of Early Pioneering Days, written by L. Hames, a child during the late sixties at Paparoa and local journalist, which stated that life was extremely difficult for the literary gentlemen of the rural areas because ‘some, educated and cultured [men] accustomed only to city life, [found themselves] shut out from the artistic and the literary, shut in to dead monotony and dead levelness’in the isolation of new townships. The establishment of Mutual Improvement Associations in many of the rural towns must have come as a major relief to those who considered themselves in need of a literary or cultural outlet.

As well as belonging to Literary Societies, Keith Sinclair suggests that ‘among the literate members of the community one of the chief occupations was writing letters and pamphlets. The level of public debate in the newspapers and in pamphlets was very high indeed, in spite the indulgence of personalities…. The writing and publication of diaries might well be described as an industry. Most of the best New Zealand books were of this nature, being reminiscences or more or less personal accounts of life in the colony…’ Some settlers, like library founder Charles Hook, of Paparoa, not only wrote letters ‘home’ detailing the activities going on within the community but also became correspondents for local or national newspapers. Hook also wrote write lavish journalistic pieces about trivial community activities and social teas.

Gillespie-Needham suggests that that it was necessity rather than a desire to seek cultural change which ‘occasionally provided the impetus for the establishment of mutual improvement societies.’ She gives an example from the Daily Southern Cross, published in June 1870, where a society was founded in Auckland because of the unsatisfactory selection of books on gardening in the province. Gillespie-Needham also suggest that mutual improvement societies ‘were inclined to develop amongst nonconformist settlers such as the Albertlanders.’

Organizations such as the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) were set up to enhance the public good and promote morality through the spread of religion. While they provided some access to books for their members, this was not the primary intention of the religious organizations. The mainstay of most religious organizations was the provision of lectures and debates, all of which were aimed at self-improvement through a better understanding of God. The YMCA began operating in 1855. In 1861 it suffered a major financial loss when fire swept through the new premises in Wellesley Street. Although it continued to provide lectures and bible classes, Elphick suggested that it had lost the major ‘bait’ which attracted the younger reader towards higher things, the library and reading rooms. The library and reading room were considered to play a principal part in the conversion of youth.

Lectures and debates by the YMCA were provided in the Oddfellows’ Hall on a Friday at 7.30pm. In 1856 a wide variety of topics was offered as lectures to young men. Amongst topics such as the Religious History of France, and the Life of Dr. Chalmers, can be found Maori Superstitions and the World we Live in Physically and Geographically Considered, each lecture adding to the young men of Auckland’s understanding of God. At the opening of the new library and reading rooms in 1866 the chairman stated that there were 4,945 young men in the city of Auckland between the ages of 15 and 41, and that ‘much interest was rightly attached to the character and conduct’ of this group. The Association was considered necessary to advance the best interest of the city’s young men and the good of the whole community.

In 1879 a letter to the editor stated that he considered that the Association had not met its aims. S. Rout, one of the founders of the Onehunga Institute in 1861, stated that the ‘present condition [of the YMCA reading rooms] resembles that of an elaborately finished and furnished schoolroom with numerous teachers and friends assembled, but few or no scholars within its walls.’ Rout concluded that if the aim of providing the library and reading room had been to attract those who might benefit, the result had been worse than useless. The opening of the new reading room that year was aimed at providing a commodious space ‘ which would make it attractive to young men… [by] giving them all the comforts of a well-appointed home.’ The rooms were carpeted and lit with billiard lights to ‘aid reading comfort’, coffee tables were scattered about and there were provisions made for refreshments such as tea and coffee. A room was set aside for the coffee club and one for chess, all in an effort to remove the excuse ‘ made by many young men in Auckland for going astray…that the hotel and billiard rooms are always cosy and comfortable, but when they enter a public reading room, its dingy and cheerless aspect precludes a repetition of the visit.’ The aim of the Association could not be considered as having been useless, as the Association had undertaken to provide what the young men suggested was missing in a public reading room. The resulting lack of numbers merely reflected that it was the hotel and its associated social activities that they preferred..

Elphick suggests that the Association made a valuable contribution to the city by sponsoring winter lectures. The lectures were provided by prominent figures in the community, including the Superintendent and Provincial Secretary, some leading merchants and the clergy, ‘one of the most highly educated groups in the community.’

Supporting the libraries provided by the Institutes and various self improvement associations was the circulating or commercial library. An examination of the local papers show a number of booksellers advertised circulating libraries within the inner city.(Figure 9) The libraries such as John Williamson, Varty’s, Metcalfe, George Chapman, Upton, Geo. W Owen and R. Thompson’s were run purely on a commercial basis. Stock was determined by the reader rather than being dictated by a library committee. One of the first circulating libraries, opened in 1847, John Williamson’s library offered a variety of books for an annual subscription of 10/-. In July 1850 R. Thompson advertised the opening of a new circulating library in Shortland Street. George Chapman established his circulating library in 1855. The cost of a year’s subscription to the library was a pound, but the reading room was free to subscribers. E. Wayte opened his circulating library during the late sixties also charging a pound per annum or 1/- per week. He produced a catalogue listing 1800 titles available for borrowing. In 1859 Geo W. Owen advertised his premises in Victoria Street with 1000 volumes available. J.H.Upton produced a catalogue of 1300 titles for circulation in his ‘select library’ in the 1880s. The circulating libraries were mainly housed in book shops and stationers’ stores at the lower end of Queen Street. Squashed between the grocer, the boot maker or the baker, they serviced the shoppers who battled the often muddy and rutted road which remained the main street of Auckland city, providing an abundance of books in their often makeshift premises.

Varty’s circulating library regularly advertised its new stock, with promises of the newest and most popular books of the day. In 1864 it listed 180 volumes, which had been added to the library during July. Amidst those listed were the following interesting titles whose contents must be left to the imagination: Capt. Clutterbuck’s Champagne, Who Breaks Pays, Agony Point by Rev. J Pycroft, Scouring the White Horse, Leisure Hours in Town, Wild Oats and Dead Leaves, Too Much Alone, Mauleverere’s Divorce, and the Briefless Barrister by Albert Smith. (Figure 10)

Mr. Varty was a member of the Newton Literary Institution in 1864. His rendition of Tennyson’s poem, the "May Queen" was recorded as being given with ‘great effect’. Varty prefaced his recital with the suggestion that ‘ no poet is perhaps more thoroughly English than Tennyson, few possess a wider range of ability to seize the traits of outward life, and clothe human truths in material beauty. He paints facts and the creations of his imaginative genius with equal fidelity, and raises what is plain and familiar either by direct connection with the heart, or the pervading spirit of his design.’ Even NZLA President John Harris would be hard pressed to re-assert his claims of mediocrity when faced with a presentation from the heart such as this.

Along with a strong desire for self-improvement and intellectual improvement there was a need to keep up with what was happening in the rest of the world. An indication of this was the interest in the arrival of periodicals and papers from ‘Home’ and Australia. In 1872 Chapman’s advertisement in the Auckland Almanac proclaimed the availability of up to thirty British monthly periodicals. Although many library reading rooms could not hope to subscribe to this many periodicals or newspapers, most subscribed to at least three or four overseas papers and a small number of local ones which were provided free of charge to members. The Newton Literary Association claimed that its reading room was ‘supplied with the daily local papers, Home News, Illustrated London News, Fun, Punch, London Society and a number of other papers and periodicals.’

By the seventies the institutes and circulating libraries had been joined by a number of subscription libraries in the urban areas around Auckland City and in the outlying areas like Titirangi, Devonport, Takapuna, the pensioner areas of Howick, Otahuhu, and Onehunga, and surrounding suburbs of Otara, Otahuhu, Mangere, and West and East Pukekohe. There were also libraries in the West in areas such as Henderson and Hobsonville and Kumeu. The 1878 Census lists the populations of some of the areas during the period when the libraries were being established. Devonport recorded a population of 993, Lake or Takapuna 261, Otahuhu 773, East Pukekohe 561, Pukekohe West 814, Otara 192, Newmarket 1,016, Howick 211, Tamaki 79, and Titirangi 104.

There is a some background information about the history of some of the libraries included in local histories. A history of the Henderson area notes the library at Henderson’s Mill during its operation during the sixties and states it had been used by employees of the mill. By 1873 the mill had closed and the library had been converted into a school room. In 1871 Papakura local resident, Mr. Willis, offered his empty cottage at a low rental to be used as a public library and reading room. The subscription was set at a pound and a committee was established to undertake the task of setting the library up. At Papatoetoe a library had been subsidized by members of the local Presbyterian church from as early as 1857. Church members were charged 5/- per annum for borrowing while non members rated a 10/- charge. During the seventies the administration of the library was taken over by the Papatoetoe Mutual Improvement Association. In 1873 the committee of the Otahuhu library published a catalogue which noted that the subscription rate was 2/6d per quarter, payable in advance, and listed 323 works for borrowing. The information on libraries on the outskirts of the city is very sparse, as were the number of libraries, in comparison to the more isolated rural areas.

In the local press however, the major emphasis on library provision seems to have centred on the central city and the Mechanics’ Institute and the possibility of a ‘free’ public library. Following the passing of the first library legislation in 1869 a number of articles in the Herald suggested the need for a free public library in Auckland city. It was not until a public meeting of Auckland city ratepayers in 1875, however, that the idea of a rate supported free library was publicly mooted. At the meeting the majority of the ratepayers present voted against the proposal. In 1876 a Daily Southern Cross editorial declared that the decision might mean the loss of the Provincial Council library collection. Would it not be better, the paper suggested, to amalgamate all three Auckland Libraries, the Auckland Mechanics’ Institute, the defunct Provincial Council library and the YMCA (with over 5,300 volumes between them) and give Aucklanders a proper library service. After a formal request from the Mechanics’ Institute to the Council to take over its affairs, the Evening Star pressed the Council to accept the offer and suggested that letting it go would mean a loss of face in Auckland. It declared that compared to the other main cities ‘Auckland’s [library] is a disgrace to the city…’ The Auckland ratepayer was faced with the cost of maintaining several badly managed and housed collections or having them sent to the south. In 1879 at a public meeting the ratepayers voted in support of the Council taking over administration of the Mechanics’ Institute and the Provincial Council library. On December 1879 the Auckland City Council took over the premises of the Mechanics’ Institute on the corner of Chancery and High Streets. Figure 11 reports details the opening of the library.

In February 1880 the Auckland City Council became one of the first councils in the Province to strike a library rate to administer a public library. A rate of ½ d in the pound was struck. The chance to receive the collection of Sir George Grey, and the timely arrival of a bequest from settler Edward Costley in 1885, meant that the Council could begin to build the new library. The move from the dilapidated premises of the Mechanics’ Institute to the new site in Wellesley Street took place in March of 1887. (Figure 12)

When it opened the library offered only a reference service. It was decided that low stock numbers would not cater for the demand which would be created by the move to such salubrious surroundings. By October 1889 a lending department, which offered 2648 of the 13,000 volumes in the collection for borrowing, had been opened. In 1905 the central library opened its first branch at Ponsonby . A bequest from Auckland book binder William Leys provided a large portion of the finances for the construction of the building. Leys left the money to the Council to create an institution to cater for recreational and literary needs in the underprivileged part of Auckland city. As the money was insufficient to fully fund the building, Ley’s brother Thomson, offered to meet the rest of the cost of the building if the site was provided by the Council. Wynne Colgan states that the Leys Institute had the first public library in Australia and New Zealand to be devoted entirely to children within the Institute as early as 1909 (Figure 13) ( A point which could be disputed by the Kaukapakapa community which registered a library for children in 1882.) As the city began to amalgamate, branch libraries began to be established, often using the buildings which had housed the outgoing council. By 1917 the Auckland City Council supported three more branch libraries, located at Grafton and Parnell (1913) and Remuera (1915).

In 1909 Guy H. Schofield suggested that in New Zealand ‘each settlement has pursued its own train of thought, worshipped its own gods, created its own institutions, guarded its own privileges.’ He suggested that settlements had developed institutions out of self interest and a want of privilege. Was this really self interest or could it have been a survival tactic? It could be suggested that dislocation and the need for self-sufficiency created a sense of community amongst those in rural towns and settlements which triggered the provision of recreational and cultural institutions.

By the end of the seventies there were libraries at Waikato (The Alexandra Institute), Te Arai, Arapohue, Aratapu, Bombay, Cambridge, Dargaville, Hamilton, Hobsonville, Hokianga (Herd’s Point), Kaipara Flats, Kamo, Kaukapakapa, Kaurikohori, Kawakawa, Lower Matakana, Mahurangi, Mangapai, Mangawhai, Mongonui, Matakana, Matakohe, Maungakaramea, Maungataroto, Ngarawahia, Okaihau, Omaha, Opotiki, Pokeno, Port Albert, Raglan, Rodney, Tauranga, Coromandel, Wade (Silverdale), Waiuku, Waiwera, Whangarei, Whau, and Wharehine (Figures 14 to 17) See Appendix VI for full listing. It is interesting to note that the majority of the areas settled by groups from Nova Scotia, such as Waipu, Little Omaha, Mangawhai, Whangarei Heads, Kaurihohore and Hikurangi, had libraries established in the early stages of settlement. An examination of several rural towns, their histories and local newspapers has provided an understanding of how the community saw the literary and cultural needs of rural settlements and towns.

The Coromandel township began to develop in 1861 after the first major gold finds at Kapanga, Tiki and Tokatea. The town was deserted between 1863-4 when fears of Maori hostilities drove many miners away. When they returned they set up camps and partial settlements in four different sections of the town, at Driving Creek, Kapanga, Kingstone and Tiki. By 1879 there were three libraries established in the town. They were the Tokatea, Driving Creek, and Coromandel Institutes.

The Tokatea Institute was the first in Coromandel to register under the 1875 Public Libraries Powers Act. It was situated in the upper part of the town on the edge of the Tokatea Range where the first gold discovery was made in 1852. A local historian has suggested that it may have been housed in the Bismarck Hotel, but this has not been confirmed. Ten miners from the Tokatea Range mine constituted the major occupational component of the trustees of the Tokatea Institute. Their patron was Judge Gillies. The Driving Creek Institute was registered in 1882. Whether the two institutes were founded for library provision or teaching is not recorded. By this time the Thames School of Mines had already been established and whether these institutes were aiming to provide similar lectures on elements of mining can only be surmised. At Thames the Institute provided a complete education for miners by supplying courses and certificating mine managers, battery superintendents, engineers, surveyors and licensed assayers. The Coromandel Institute was registered in 1888.

By 1881 the Institutes had been joined by Alfred Silk who advertised the Coromandel Circulating Library on his premises (Figure 18). Silk was a stationer who advertised the sale of ‘all books used in public schools.’ He also sold Pond’s Homeopathic Medicines and patent medicines of all kinds. The part of town his premises were in was not included in his advertisement.

By the early nineties all of these libraries must have closed as the need for some kind of cultural development was voiced in the local papers. In 1896 after the ‘Sun Rays’ column announced the re-opening of the lending library in conjunction with the Driving Creek Institute in August, the Coromandel Sun lamented the lack of library services and claimed that ‘it is doubtful if any other town besides Coromandel, with the same or less the amount of population, can offer to its residents less opportunity of healthy enjoyment, or means of cultivating and developing its people. It is deplorable that in a community chiefly consisting of a type of men whose previous career must have been infused with knowledge of those matters that tend to advance the welfare of all civilized beings that nothing is done to provide recreation or counteract the allurements of billiard playing, drinking and gambling, that for want of more acceptable amusements reign paramount to the degradation of the community and the sacrifice of all power to carry into effect those desires of self-improvement, and intellectual knowledge with opportunities of social discourse and mutual debate.’ The desire to install public order in the town became an attack on the clergy for neglecting their duty. ‘We want more than the Sunday sermon to satisfy our claims and if our clergy find no part of their business to attend these matters… then there are those who are able [to] undertake to provide the reactor of everyday toil that the young man here is denied.’

At this time there were two circulating libraries catering to the reading needs of the Coromandel public. In 1896, H. Nesbitt, Bookseller and Stationer, advertised that he would take orders for books and periodicals which could be delivered on shortest notice. ‘Nesbitt has also started a Lending Library, which stands equal to any Library in New Zealand. Latest books arrive every mail’ the advertisment proclaimed. Nesbit also offered hot and cold baths and a hairdressing salon, if one entered through the side passage. Upstairs was a first class billiard table under the ‘able’ management of J. Donnelly. G.F. Mellars Jnr’s premises were to be found in the upper township (opposite the Tramway Hotel). Amongst the ‘choice selection of Tobacconists, goods, stationery, books, toys, fancy goods, etc.’ was a Lending Library. In 1888 the Coromandel and the Driving Creek Institutes were still operating.

Another large European settlement was at Mahurangi and Mahurangi Heads. Settlement had begun before 1829 when traders had been attracted to the area by the abundance of timber and the associated timber trading and ship building. By the mid-fifties the township had been mapped out. Most settlers were faced with land covered with standing bush. The development of public institutions began with the construction of a church and residence by the end of 1856. By 1859 a library, school and post office had been established although they were housed in private homes. The following year J. Baxter opened the first store. A school opened in 1863 followed by the construction of a public hall in 1864. The hall was used as a school, village library, and general meeting place.

Keys suggests that by the mid-sixties the town was well established. It was a well-planned town which was conscious of its own identity but also had a community interest in the surrounding countryside. The town had gained all the public institutions generally acknowledged as signs of social and economic soundness, although it was considered severely lacking in one essential ingredient, single women. The ship building and timber industries had been joined by lime and cement works, a flour mill and farming.

A history of the library at Mahurangi (or Warkworth) was written by Lucy Moore in 1986. Founded in 1859 by a group of nineteen interested gentlemen, the library was originally housed in a small tea box in the home of the local school teacher and library founder, R. J. Moore. In 1864 the ‘library’ was moved into purpose built book presses in the newly built local hall. These presses or locking bookcases may have been similar to the book cases used by the itinerating libraries in Britain and were the next step up from the method of chaining books to the shelves. The new public hall had been constructed for the purpose of holding ‘public meetings of a literary, agricultural and social character, as well as for the purposes of the present library’ and housed the library until its move into a small cottage in 1898. The library was taken over by the Council in 1914, when it was shifted into a purpose built library in the centre of town (Figure 19).

During the seventies several communities published catalogues of their libraries. In 1874 Port Albert Library published a 22 page catalogue of its holdings, eighty-five of the works were held in the juvenile department. The Waiuku Institute published a catalogue of its 579 books in 1875 at a cost of 6d per member. Inside was a copy of the rules and a note that the annual subscription for gentlemen borrowers was 10/- and for ladies 7/6d.

An examination of the histories of both urban and rural communities have illustrated the importance placed on access to books and newspapers, and revealed a desire on the part of some members of communities to ensure that there was provision for recreation which was not considered degrading to the community. Throughout the province educated settlers created institutions which they saw as enhancing the community. The easiest and most inexpensive option was the establishment of a mutual improvement society or literary society as meetings could be held in private homes or in the public hall. It was from these organizations that many reading rooms and libraries evolved.