Wild West Town Begets Long Literary Tradition

“Steve Young hangin” in Laramie, Wyoming Territory, 1868. Vigilantes on either side look directly at the camera with no attempt to hide their identity—demonstrating their legitimacy in the community. American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming (AHC).

In the spring of 1868, Union Pacific Railroad construction crews arrived on the Laramie Plains. They stayed for just a few months before racing west, but that was long enough to establish Laramie "City"—a wild lawless young town where the mayor and other officials resigned in despair just weeks after taking office. A vigilante organization of some 300 citizens was formed in response. That October they hung three men, including Steve Young, his crime now lost to history.

But Laramie soon grew up. Just two years later, it had both a library and a literary society—the beginnings of the longest literary tradition in Wyoming, longer even than Denver's some would argue!

Laramie months after the Union Pacific arrived. The new railroad towns grew fast! AHC.

Laramie’s Long Literary Tradition—

150 years and counting

On September 15, 1870, a seemingly improbable announcement appeared on page 3 of the Laramie Daily Sentinel:

“TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN—All those who are interested in the formation of a Literary Society are invited to be present at the Schoolhouse on Tuesday evening, Sept. 19th, 1870, at 7½ o’clock.”

Barely two years old, Laramie was still a wild young town, home to just 828 souls (1870 census). Yet there was a fine turnout of enthusiastic citizens at the schoolhouse, and a society for cultural advancement was formed: the Wyoming Literary and Library Association (WLLA). James Hayford, editor of the Daily Sentinel, was not surprised. “Every thing of a moral, intellectual and social nature seems to spring up almost spontaneously, and grow and thrive luxuriantly, in our city.”

For nearly three decades, the WLLA would provide two valuable services to the community: 1) educational and entertaining lectures, discussions, and debates; and 2) a lending library. It was hoped these would supply alternative entertainment for the youth of Laramie. They should “spend their leisure hours and energies in sustaining this society, instead of wasting them at the saloon or card table,” advised Hayford.

Six Programs for $1.50

Is it odd that lectures on intellectual and cultural topics were in demand in this small isolated wild west town? Not at all. They were a popular form of entertainment in 19th-century America, and made significant contributions to adult self-education—not unlike today’s TED talks. Professional speakers traveled lecture circuits across the U.S., stopping in communities large and small.

With limited resources initially, the WLLA turned to a free alternative—local talent. As Hayford explained in the Sentinel, audiences would not be subjected to “celebrated speakers [who would] come out here and speak their hackneyed pieces for one or five hundred dollars.” Instead, intelligent knowledgeable citizens, obviously familiar with the community, would speak. And what a bargain—a ticket to six programs was just $1.50! (about $30 today).

The October program featured five lectures on diverse topics, including ‘Chinese Labor’ and ‘Cheerfulness’, followed by discussion of a leading issue of the day—Female Suffrage. In November, there were lectures on charity, the mental culture and its improvement, and criticism. A highlight was Poe’s Raven, read by Mrs. Swain “with a great deal of taste” (several months earlier, Louisa Swain became the first woman to cast a ballot under laws granting women equal political rights).

Louisa Swain, 1870. When she cast her ballot that September, “for the first time in the world, Wyoming put into practice the theory of female suffrage” proclaimed Sentinel. AHC.

Professional speakers were hired on occasion. In August of 1875 a Mr. Burbank gave a program of eight readings, including selections from Pickwick’s Dilemma (Dickens), The Jumping Frog (Twain), and the melodrama Shaugraun (Irish playwright Boucicault). Admission was 50¢. A year later, famous humorist and mimic Alf Burnett commanded $1 for reserved seating. Profits from such events supported the library.

On May 9, 1878, on page 3 of the Sentinel, a word in large font caught the reader’s attention: “GEOLOGY Six lectures on the History of the Earth, including the History of Man, would be presented by Wm. Denton.” This likely was the eccentric Wellesley geologist who studied the past by holding rocks and artifacts against his forehead. But there was no mention of psychometry amidst the usual exciting geological fare—volcanoes, fossils, dinosaurs, coal and such. Lectures would be “profusely illustrated” with dissolving views and dioramic effects produced with a Trinopticon (three projectors in one). Even with such advanced technology, tickets were reasonable: 50¢ per lecture, $2 for the entire series.

Finest Library in the West

Obviously lectures would contribute only so much to community improvement. More useful was the WLLA library of “selected books and standard periodical literature.” Six months after its founding, there were several hundred volumes, as Hayford proudly declared in the Sentinel. For just 25-35¢ per month [membership fee], citizens could “have constant access to the finest library in the west.”

The library produced its first catalog, a bound booklet, in March of 1873 (card catalogs were still a decade away). It listed 608 volumes, which the Sentinel, ever the booster, reported as “upwards of a thousand.” The emphasis was on non-fiction, not unusual in a time when many considered self education and improvement the primary purpose of library holdings.

It appears that throughout the WLLA’s existence, borrowing privileges were limited to paying members. Fees were $2 to join and $1 per quarter, or $25 for a life membership. However, nonmembers were welcome to read periodicals in the library. These included popular magazines such as Scribner’s Monthly, Atlantic Monthly and Harper’s Weekly, and newspapers from major cities of the eastern U.S.

W.L. & L.A. Certificate of Life Membership for “Miss Eva Owen”—who signed the Trustees list as Eva W. Downey, her married name. Image courtesy Kim Viner.

Peripatetic Books

During its first decade, the library resided with whomever was librarian, making for some interesting situations. In March of 1871, it was housed in the “Drawing Room” of J.J. Clark. Actually it was his office, but being a dentist—one who “draws” teeth—he considered the euphemism appropriate. The Sentinel assured patrons they were not obligated to have a tooth pulled every time they borrowed a book “even if the Doctor tries to persuade them this is one of the rules of the Library.”

For several years, the Reverend and Mrs. D.J. Pierce hosted the library in their living room. But a private home discouraged use. They hoped to remedy the situation with a letter to the Editor: “We cordially invite all members of the W.L.&L.A. to visit the library at any hour of the day, after 9 o’clock a.m., for consultation of books and assure them that as long as they wish to remain for that purpose, their presence shall not be deemed irksome …”

Other locations included the County Clerk’s office, attorney C.W. Bramel’s office, possibly the schoolhouse followed by the post office, and the office of Dr. J.H. Finfrock, physician and pharmacist. Then late in 1876, there was good news for those tired of moving books. Col. S.W. Downey, attorney and long-serving member of the WLLA, would put up a brick building the coming spring. When completed, the upper story would be available to the library, at no charge. In the meantime, it shared an office with Downey's law practice, as announced in the Sentinel:

In January of 1878, Downey’s building was far enough along for preparations to be made on the upper floor. With $500 raised in just four days, carpets and furniture were purchased and installed. All books out on loan were recalled. After making what many hoped was its final move, the library opened.

Wyoming Joins the Public Library Movement

The creation of free public libraries in the U.S. greatly accelerated during the second half of the 19th century, due largely to philanthropy and promotion by multi-millionaire Andrew Carnegie. “There is not such a cradle of democracy upon the earth as the Free Public Library” he declared, “… where neither rank, office, nor wealth receives the slightest consideration.”

Life magazine, April 13, 1905. A month later, they noted: “no American has ever before given away money for philanthropic purposes on the scale that Mr. Carnegie is doing.” Hathitrust.

In 1886, Wyoming Territory jumped on the bandwagon when the Legislative Assembly passed a law allowing counties to levy taxes for public libraries. The next year, the Albany County Commissioners did just that. A tax of ⅛ mills raised $780.60 the first year.

WLLA books would form the nucleus of the new library. But expanding the collection still depended on fundraising and donated books; county money could be used only to run the library. To complicate things, space had again become a problem—Downey’s upper story was no longer available.

The public library started out in the “High School” in the East Side School (today’s Laramie Plains Civic Center). New bookshelves furnished by the school trustees suggested permanency. But soon the library was back to wandering, its exact path unknown. The Sentinel reported it in the Odd Fellows’ building in 1880, and above the post office in 1883.

In 1897, the library had been residing for some time in the Republican newspaper building at taxpayer expense (rent). When civic leaders proposed construction of a building specifically for the library, Republican owners strongly objected, thereby launching vehement attacks by the Daily Boomerang. “The Laramie Republican has so long been supported by public taxation that it is hard for the outfit to let go” railed the Boomerang. “They remind one of the Dutchman … who was so accustomed to the odor of decayed fish that he fainted when he got a breath of fresh air.”

Honored Sir, Please Give Us a Building

“What is the best gift which can be given to a community? … a free library,” wrote Andrew Carnegie. Several of Laramie’s civic leaders took him at his word, and “earnestly appealed” for money—successfully as it turned out. Carnegie pledged $20,000, and by 1906, our library had a home of its own (see Robber Baron Gives Laramie’s Library a Home).

There the library stayed for 75 years, until it moved to its current location in 1981. From an inauspicious start as a literary society in a remote wild west town, our library service has continued for 150 years—longer than in any community in Wyoming. In fact, our library is longer-lived even than Denver’s, which closed for a time due to insolvency (as announced in the Sentinel of course). We have good reason to be as proud as Mr. Hayford was.

James H. Hayford, a founding member and ardent booster of the Wyoming Literary & Library Association, provided frequent and reliably flattering coverage as editor of the Daily Sentinel. Left, Wyoming State Archives (no date); right, AHC (no date).

[This is my most recent contribution to the “Living History” column of the Laramie Boomerang, published January 12, 2020. All “Living History” articles are available at the Albany County Historical Society website.]

Robber Baron Gives Laramie’s Library a Home

Carnegie Building in Laramie, home of the Albany County Public Library for 75 years. American Heritage Center, U. Wyoming; date unknown (but note the style of the women's clothing).

[This is my December contribution to the Laramie Boomerang’s “Living History” column. It's not about botany or geology, but something equally important: public libraries. Laramie's first library building was a gift from the man who did so much to establish public libraries in the US—Andrew Carnegie, robber baron turned philanthropist. It served as a library for 75 years, and there still are many residents who remember it fondly. Is there a Carnegie Library in your life?]

On January 22, 1906, some 150 Laramie citizens left winter outside and climbed a flight of heavy oak stairs to the second floor of the new building at the corner of Fourth and Grand. In the warm well-lit lecture room, they listened as civic leaders spoke proudly, eloquently and at length about the Albany County Public Library, now housed in its own building—a gift of one of the wealthiest men in the world, Andrew Carnegie.

POVERTY TO PHILANTHROPY

Carnegie was born in 1835 in Scotland, son of a successful weaver. But when mechanization made his father’s skills obsolete, the family fell into abject poverty. In 1848 they immigrated to Pittsburgh, where Andrew and his father both found jobs in a cotton factory. In just twenty years, Andrew rose from “bobbin boy” at $1.20/week to steel magnate worth $400,000. He went on to become one of the “robber barons” of the Gilded Age—men who made millions by monopolizing rapidly-growing industries.

In 1901, he sold his business for $480 million to banker JP Morgan, who declared Carnegie to be “the richest man in the world.” Carnegie then turned to what he considered a duty of the wealthy—philanthropy on a grand scale. By the time of his death in 1919, he had donated 90% of his fortune.

“Andrew Carnegie in Colors” from Life magazine, April 13, 1905. A month later Life wrote: “no American has ever before given away money for philanthropic purposes on the scale that Mr. Carnegie is doing.” Hathitrust.

Carnegie had no interest in charity, instead supporting projects that helped people help themselves. At the top of his list of worthy causes were universities and libraries—specifically free public libraries, perhaps due to his own experience. As a poor kid in Pittsburg, he couldn’t use the city library because, like so many, it charged membership and lending fees.

During his lifetime, Carnegie contributed to 2500 public libraries in the U.S. and abroad. Most were in smaller communities where they had more impact. He donated specifically for buildings, but only if the library were free to the public, and the community guaranteed annual support and a site free of debt.

LOTS OF BOOKS BUT NO HOME

In 1902, U.W. Professor Aven Nelson and Albany Co. National Bank Cashier Eli Crumrine discovered they had the same terrific idea—ask Andrew Carnegie to pay for a building for Laramie’s library. For 30+ years it had moved among various private and commercial locations, none of them satisfactory. Carnegie recently had given $50,000 to Cheyenne for a library building, surely he would do the same for Laramie!

They prepared a five-page letter, dated May 2, 1902: “Honored Sir: Your well known desire to help your fellow men by planting libraries here and there throughout the world has reached to the outmost parts of the earth …” [after lengthy accolades they got to the point] “… we earnestly appeal to you for the creation in this city of a $50,000 library building.”

They provided evidence justifying their request. “Laramie is now a city of more than 8,000 people” with all indications of permanency: excellent water and sewerage systems, and a modern fire department. “It is the education center of the state,” site of Wyoming’s only university. As “the center of influence for a large rural population” it benefits twice as many people as in the city itself. The City already has a free public library; in fact, Laramie’s “collection of books is second to none in the state” but is kept in “cramped, unsuitable and uninviting quarters.”

The letter ended with a plea: “Hoping that you may find time to look into the merits of our petition and that we shall soon have the pleasure of receiving from you a communication looking toward the ultimate fulfillment of our earnest desires” [italics added]. But they were overly optimistic.

DISAPPOINTMENT

Months went by. In October they wrote James Bertram, head of Carnegie’s library program. “We are very anxious to know whether the matter has yet been called to the attention of Mr. Carnegie. Thanking you for an early reply …” Still they waited.

The decision arrived January 2, 1903. Bertram’s letter was short. If the community would “maintain a Free Public Library at a cost of not less than Two Thousand Dollars a year and provide a suitable site, Mr. Carnegie will be glad to furnish Twenty Thousand Dollars to erect a Free Public Library for Laramie.”

More than a little disappointed, Nelson and Crumrine fired off another letter: “Deeply grateful for the worthy beneficence you accord to our city, we yet venture to beg … you to do still more generously by us.” They dropped their request from $50,000 to $40,000, but not before mentioning Carnegie’s more generous gift to Cheyenne.

Bertram wrote back explaining that new rules required communities to provide annual funding at a rate of 10% of the gift. Laramie had promised $2000 annually, therefore they would receive $20,000 for the building. This still was a generous offer (about $600,000 today), and one they couldn’t refuse.

NEXT STEPS

On February 26, 1903, citizens filled the County Courthouse, eager to learn if there would be a Carnegie Library in Laramie. A resolution to accept Carnegie’s offer of $20,000 was presented. The County would need to raise $2000 annually for support, requiring a tax increase of about 50¢ on each $1000. This didn’t dampen the obvious enthusiasm in the room.

W.H. Holliday, representing Laramie businessmen, endorsed the resolution, as did University President Smiley, who hoped the library and possibly a game room would “counteract the bad influences of some other places upon the students.” Mrs. [Mary] Bellamy stated that the Woman’s Club favored accepting Carnegie’s offer, and added that girls “read two thirds more than boys and the library would be of more benefit to them.”

A vote was called. After the resolution passed almost unanimously, the County Commissioners appointed a Library Building Commission composed of Crumrine, Nelson, and W.H. Holliday. It was agreed that the City would purchase a site to donate to the County, preferably near the courthouse so that if interest in the library waned, Carnegie’s building could be used as a jail.

The City purchased a lot at Fourth and Grand from “Grandma Black” who owned a rooming house there. At $2500, it was a bargain. After the property was duly transferred to the County, Aven Nelson drew and circulated a sketch of the desired building. New York architect Henry D. Whitfield’s plan was chosen. He said it could be built for less than $20,000, even at New York prices, which were 25% higher than in Laramie. Thus assured, the Building Commission put the project out for bid.

On August 11, 1903, a Boomerang headline announced the bad news: “Lowest Bids Amount to Far More Than Sum Donated.” In fact, total cost would exceed Carnegie’s gift by $10,000! The Building Commissioners contacted Whitfield, who sent a revised plan. Bids were again solicited.

Two months later, the Boomerang had good news: “Something definite has been accomplished at last, in regard to the building of the Carnegie library—the contract has been let.” The three bids were remarkably close, ranging from $18,250 to $18,770 total. Also remarkably, the lowest bid was submitted by W.H. Holliday, President of the Building Commission. He got the contract.

Construction was completed two years later at a cost of $20,077 (Crumrine paid the $77 overage). Furnishings were not included, so a “Library Fair” was held featuring a play, baby show, supper with an “overwhelming menu” for 25¢, and a formal ball following a grand march led by “King” Edward Ivinson. Well-attended, the event raised $825.20.

LIBRARY DEDICATION
On January 24, 1906, the front page of the Boomerang was devoted to the Carnegie Library dedication ceremony two days earlier. “The spacious auditorium was crowded to its limit with the representatives of the intelligent citizens of Laramie. The addresses of the different able speakers were received with great pleasure, not only for their oratorical value, but for the multitude of good common sense statements …”

The ceremony began with a “musical treat” by Graeppe’s orchestra, followed by “a very eloquent and heartfelt prayer” by Reverend R.A. Lansdell. The main address—History of the Carnegie Library Building—was delivered by Aven Nelson. Several prominent citizens then spoke more briefly.

The popular song “Daddy” was artistically rendered by the well-known (in Laramie) singer Mrs. Trumbull, ably accompanied by Miss Laura Lee. The Boomerang reported that “her beautiful contralto voice was never before heard to a greater advantage … clear and sweet and what made it more pleasing was her perfect enunciation.” But she refused the call for an encore.

Bishop Keane then spoke, stressing that citizens “should never give a poor book or indifferent book to the library.” That way the quality of the holdings would be maintained. But the bishop was not without wit. “All good works were done on the heights,” he said, “and Laramie is high.”

After an original poem read by Judge Groesbeck and a few remarks from the audience, W.H. Holliday presented the library keys to County Commissioner Nellis Corthell, who, after accepting them, said the library did not need keys. So Mr. Holliday received them back.

CARNEGIE BUILDING TODAY

Most Carnegie libraries were successful, and often outgrew their buildings. Some were expanded, but many were torn down or repurposed. The Albany County Public Library moved to its current location at 310 S. 8th St. in 1981. Fortunately the Carnegie Building was not demolished, nor did it become a jail as some had contemplated in 1903. It now houses City offices. But the spirit of the old library still resides in the entryway, in the form of an exhibit about Carnegie and his contribution to our community. The original “bronze medallion of our benefactor” looks down from a wall near the reception desk.

Andrew Carnegie; source.