figure 1: Hannah Packard James, ca. 1885. From Myra Poland, “Miss Hannah Packard James,” in Proceedings and Collections of the Wyoming Historical and Geological Society for the Years 1902–1903 (Wilkes-Barre, PA: The Society, 1904), 300–304. This content downloaded from 128.118.152.206 on Fri, 10 Mar 2017 14:15:27 UTC All use subject to http://about.jstor.org/terms YANKEE LIBRARIAN IN THE DIAMOND CITY: HANNAH PACKARD JAMES, THE OSTERHOUT FREE LIBRARY OF WILKES-BARRE, AND THE PUBLIC LIBRARY MOVEMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA Bernadette A. Lear Penn State Harrisburg Library early twenty-five years ago, Laurel Grotzinger wrote about Nthe “paucity, perils, and pleasures” of researching women in librarianship. Citing the lack of “herstory” in library history scholarship, as well as the absence of librarianship in works on women’s history, Grotzinger found few studies that used primary source material to interpret female librarians within the context of their times. 1 Since then, there have been numerous articles and book chapters documenting female librarians. Recently, research- ers have described the careers of government documents pioneers Edith Guerrier (1870–1958) and Adelaide Hasse (1868–1953), theological librarian/cataloger Julia Pettee (1872–1967), Oregon State Librarian Cornelia Marvin Pierce (1873–1957), library educator Mary Wright Plummer (1856–1916), and children’s librarian Effie Louise Power (1873–1969). 2 Yet few if any have studied women in Pennsylvania. In fact, there has been no article pennsylvania history: a journal of mid-atlantic studies, vol. 78, no. 2, 2011. Copyright © 2011 The Pennsylvania Historical Association This content downloaded from 128.118.152.206 on Fri, 10 Mar 2017 14:15:27 UTC All use subject to http://about.jstor.org/terms PPAHAH 778.2_01_Lear.indd8.2_01_Lear.indd 112323 55/12/11/12/11 11:38:29:38:29 PPMM pennsylvania history in either Pennsylvania History or the Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography on women librarians in the past forty years. 3 Perhaps more important, published studies of female librarians who were active before the American Civil War are relatively scant. There is a dire need for such research because, as Dee Garrison has found, there were two distinct generations practicing librarianship in the late Gilded Age and Progressive era. There was a “gentry” that had been in the field prior to the 1870s, and a new “professional class,” led by Melvil Dewey (of Dewey Decimal fame), which came to the fore in the mid-1890s. The studies cited above already tell us a great deal about new professional library women of the early twentieth century and, particularly in the case of Hasse and Pierce, how they interacted with the Progressive movement. However, none describe an older woman transitioning from a small-town society and worldview to an industrial, progressive outlook. Existing research may lead us to believe that most female librarians of the early 1900s were staunch Progressives, but some women were quite ambivalent about professional and social change. Robert Wiebe’s and Steven Diner’s scholarship can help us contextualize and predict older librarians’ responses to the Progressive movement. Wiebe describes the period from the 1870s through the 1920s as a “search for order.” Prior to the Civil War, he argues, most communities were quite autonomous and handled community needs in informal ways. In fact, people who came of age in antebellum America had grown up on “islands,” “judging the world as they would their neighborhood. Their truths derived from what they knew; the economics of a family budget, the returns that came to the industrious and the lazy, the obnoxious behavior of the drunken braggart, the advantages of a wife who stayed home and kept a good house.” This generation “had little reason to believe that these daily precepts were not universally valid, and few doubted that the nation’s ills were caused by men who had dared to deny them.” This “society without a core” lacked “national centers of author- ity and information” that could have helped people cope with the economic and social effects of rapid industrialization. 4 Over the course of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, it appears that nearly every American sought answers in higher education, morality crusades, social science, government and social programs, or other such activities. Yet Steven Diner’s research reveals that many “Progressive” individuals’ commitments were selective and their ideals were contradictory. 5 Some social activists retained earlier beliefs in limited government, protection of property rights, and Social Darwinism, even as their contemporaries were 124 This content downloaded from 128.118.152.206 on Fri, 10 Mar 2017 14:15:27 UTC All use subject to http://about.jstor.org/terms PPAHAH 778.2_01_Lear.indd8.2_01_Lear.indd 112424 55/12/11/12/11 11:38:29:38:29 PPMM yankee librarian in the diamond city arguing for the expansion of state authority, were moving into communal settlement houses, and were questioning the entire socioeconomic order. Unsurprisingly, such ambivalence emerged within librarianship, a profession that often marks its beginning with the founding of the American Library Association in 1876. As Dee Garrison points out, there was substantial conflict between the first and second generation of career librarians. Early leaders such as Justin Winsor of Harvard (1831–97), William Frederick Poole of the Newberry Library (1821–94), Charles Ammi Cutter of the Boston Athenaeum (1837–1903), and Josephus N. Larned of Buffalo (1836–1913) were part of a “gentry” whose attitudes “were anchored in a more provincial past, when family, education, and righteous behavior were the marks of a gentleman or lady within the local community.” Their “ideas were formed in a time when a more clearly defined group exercised unspecialized authority within a more deferential and cohesive society.” As Garrison further describes, They placed great emphasis upon moral norms, as a way of governing themselves and of shaping the moral values of a society in which they felt disoriented and bypassed. Active in education, charitable, municipal, and civil service reform, the recognizable group . was of native, usually New England, stock. Responding to a mixture of clear fear, self-interest, and humanitarianism, alternating between excited optimism and gloomy foreboding, they attempted to alleviate the problems of political corruption, urban poverty, and labor unrest that challenged their familiar way of life. They never doubted the validity of imposing upon others their middle-class values: thrift, self-reliance, industriousness, and sensual control. Never comfortable in industrial America, they viewed themselves as saviors of society. 6 Despite this helpful insight, there is little discussion of female , “gentry ” librarians in Garrison’s book. 7 Fortunately, a close examination of the later career of Hannah Packard James (1835–1903), who was the first librarian of the Osterhout Free Library in Wilkes-Barre, one of the founders of the Pennsylvania Library Association, and an early leader in the American Library Association, can fill in some of the gaps. 8 Born in Scituate, Massachusetts, James grew up just on the periphery of Brahmin Boston. She was strongly influenced by her father, William James, who was the largest landowner in the area and a state senator who espoused decidedly pro-Northern convictions. 125 This content downloaded from 128.118.152.206 on Fri, 10 Mar 2017 14:15:27 UTC All use subject to http://about.jstor.org/terms PPAHAH 778.2_01_Lear.indd8.2_01_Lear.indd 112525 55/12/11/12/11 11:38:29:38:29 PPMM pennsylvania history As a girl, she was also a member of a Unitarian church pastored by Samuel May, an abolitionist and peace advocate with a fiery sense of civic duty. 9 She had experienced the limited opportunities for women’s education that sparked Massachusetts’s great reforms a few years later. 10 She had also wit- nessed the demise of wooden shipbuilding, an industry that had enabled her family’s prominence, and according to census records, she had borne the geographic dispersion of her siblings after their father’s death. 11 One local historian has even stated that the James family went from being “prominent” in all aspects of community life to people whom Scituate residents forgot had “ever existed.” 12 James left the seaside life she cherished to live with an older sister in Newton, on the outskirts of Boston. James had lost a brother in Andersonville, the notorious Civil War prison, and while in Newton she coordinated a sew- ing circle to benefit Union soldiers. 13 After the war, she started working at the new Free Library in Newton and she rose from a clerical assistant to head librarian. Even then, she kept involved with community and social causes. For example, she organized a collection of toys and supplies to donate to victims of the 1871 Chicago fire. 14 By the time she moved to Wilkes-Barre in the late 1880s, James had been a librarian for seventeen years and had built a national reputation on her work with teachers and schoolchildren. She had become friends with Melvil Dewey, had been elected councilor of the American Library Association, and had lectured at the School of Library Service at Columbia, the first professional academic program for librarians. Given her upbringing, the great success of the public library movement in Massachusetts, and her own roles at the national level, James probably boarded the train to Pennsylvania with high confidence in the righteousness of her ideas. Wilkes-Barre in the 1880s and 1890s Like many communities during the Gilded Age, Wilkes-Barre was becoming a very different place than the bucolic, ethnically homogenous, and suburban enclave Hannah Packard James was leaving behind. Describing northeastern Pennsylvania during the late nineteenth century, one historian has called it “the best and worst of times.” On one hand, there were “signs of growth and improve- ment,” yet Dickensian “social and economic problems plagued” the area.