An Idea ‘Likely Too Big’

Philanthropic Andrew Carnegie, feisty Lincoln Hulley and how charmingly quaint Sampson Hall came to be constructed on campus

BY SUSAN M. RYAN, MLS

Circa 1912, female students and faculty stand in front of Sampson Hall.

Excerpted and revised from a longer article originally published in Library & Information History, March 2013

Andrew Carnegie, railroad and steel magnate, is known for the more than 1,800 public libraries he funded across the country. Less attention, however, has been paid to the 108 academic library buildings he helped build. Carnegie favored smaller rather than larger academic institutions, funded a number of colleges serving African American students, and had somewhat of a bias against church-related schools. John B. Stetson University, a small school, yet segregated and firmly affiliated with the Baptists, made an interesting study of how such an institution pleaded its case for Carnegie funding and received one of the larger gifts of the 108 academic recipients. Stetson’s ultimately successful application was not seamless, though — and this is the story of President Lincoln Hulley, PhD, and his relentless campaign to get a Carnegie library at Stetson.

In 1905, one year after taking office, Stetson President Lincoln Hulley, PhD, commenced a relentless pursuit of a new library.

The Sampson Library, named in 1889, served the university well until being outgrown, prompting Stetson’s request for funds from Andrew Carnegie (right).

EARLY STETSON LIBRARIES

A small library collection formed in 1887 when C.T. Sampson, an early supporter of the institution, gave $1,000 to secure a library of about 1,000 volumes. Located on the second floor of DeLand Hall — the university’s only academic building at the time — the original collection shared a room with the science laboratory.

The library became the Sampson Library in 1889 in honor of C.T. Sampson’s continuous contributions.

Upon his death in 1893, Sampson left $20,000 to the university, designated as an endowment for the purchase of library books, which left Stetson in a far more advantageous position than other Florida college libraries at the time. Yet, in a theme that was to repeat itself often throughout the university’s history, the library had outgrown its current quarters.

The library moved to the first floor of the north wing of Elizabeth Hall in fall 1897, where it would remain until it moved to what is now known as Sampson Hall in 1909.

In fall 1904, Lincoln Hulley, PhD, a former Bucknell University professor, became Stetson’s second president. Thanks to the Sampson endowment, Hulley found Stetson’s library compared very well, and even surpassed, other college libraries in Florida. As an example, the University of Florida’s library collection at the time was called “practically worthless,” and many considered Stetson’s library to be the finest in the state.

Under Hulley, Stetson aspired to greatness, and the library reaped the benefits of his attention during the early years of his presidency.

THE CARNEGIE LIBRARY APPLICATION

An entry in the 1905 Stetson University catalog lamented that the library had outgrown its temporary home, and it had become apparent that a freestanding library was needed. Hulley had undoubtedly heard of the other academic Carnegie libraries that were going up around the country, and he must have known that rival Rollins College, only 35 miles away, had applied for Carnegie library funding in 1904.

Hulley began sending letters to Carnegie in late 1905, requesting a personal interview to discuss a library building for Stetson.

In the first brief letter, Hulley did some name-dropping and informed Carnegie that if he needed to know more about John B. Stetson University, he could inquire of the railroad mogul Henry Flagler and Philadelphia Mayor John Weaver, among others. Subsequent letters outlined more detail about the university, including information on the Sampson book endowment, the employment of a full-time librarian and the quality of the library collection.

Hulley claimed that Stetson challenged “comparison with the very best high grade, but not large universities of the North.” He told Carnegie the university already had plans and specifications for building a library that would cost $100,000, but he had no money to build it.

A quick return letter from Carnegie’s personal secretary, James P. Bertram, indicated very bluntly that Carnegie “has not the time to give for interviews.”

Bertram, who handled all the library requests sent to Carnegie, was a central figure in the funding of Carnegie libraries and had refined the application process so that it ran smoothly and efficiently by a firm set of rules. Bertram’s streamlined procedure made it possible to process applications quickly, and funding for libraries was approved with surprising speed by today’s standards.

Bertram responded to Hulley with the standard application form, simply titled College Library Building. The concise form included 16 questions (the first three being the name, location and date of incorporation of the college), and it elicited all the information Bertram needed to determine eligibility and the level of funding required.

A careful read of Stetson’s application shows that Hulley understood how to

portray the Baptist-affiliated university in the best light in terms of the Carnegie criteria for granting funds. One question asked: If denominational, the religious sect that supports and controls the institution? The answer provided by Hulley: “[Nobody] controls. President and [three-fourths] trustees must be Baptists.”

While technically true, the Baptists had substantial control over the university at that time and for decades to follow. Although Hulley touted the Baptist connection in some circles, he downplayed the relationship to the Carnegie staff. He claimed that Stetson imposed no religious restrictions on students or faculty (true) and that the university had “as little sectarian spirit” as did the University of Chicago (surely an exaggeration). Carnegie apparently questioned this answer and had Bertram follow up:

“… . I must inquire further into the sectarian connection, inasmuch as you report that the president and three-fourths of the trustees be Baptists. … Give us a list of the President and Faculty and particulars of their church affiliations with some indications of the church affiliations of the student body.”

No record was found of the reply to this request, although it must have been answered to Carnegie’s satisfaction at some point. While the religious affiliations of the faculty members at the time are not known, the student body was religiously diverse, and there were more than twice as many non-Baptist students as Baptist students in the early part of the 20th century.

Question 10 asked: What provision exists for maintaining the Library? Here, the Sampson endowment came into play and surely helped make Stetson’s case that donor support was in place for the collection.

Another question asked: From what permanent and assured source is money for upkeep to be obtained, and to what amount can this be guaranteed by the Trustees in the event of a building being provided? This information was central to Carnegie’s requirement that colleges commit to supporting adequately a new library building, and Hulley answered with the trustees’ guarantee of $2,000 annually for building upkeep.

HULLEY’S CONTINUAL PLEAS

In addition to filling out the required application form, Hulley, who was never shy in advocating for the university, continued to write directly to Carnegie with supplemental information to plead the case for a $100,000 building. He asked the philanthropist to consider 22 enumerated points, including the following: • The state’s future is assured, having the climate of Italy, and being in winter, only 20 hours from New York. • The state is settled largely by Northern people and in that sense is a Northern state. • We are building a university here for 1,000 years to come. Our work is planned to last.

• It challenges comparison, meaning no disparagement, with all other higher institutions put together that Florida has ever had. • It is not subject to control of any religious association. It is the gift of Northern Baptists and others for Florida education.

Hulley, knowing the requirements for matching funds, went on to say that “Mr. [John D.] Rockefeller’s General Education Board is considering, I am told favorably, a request for endowment, and Mr. John B. Stetson [the university’s major benefactor] also is considering favorably a request for endowment. If you could give us $100,000 for the library, I have some assurance it will be covered twice over by these other persons.”

In the end, the Rockefeller funding never materialized, and although Hulley had no way of knowing it, John B. Stetson would unexpectedly pass away just weeks after this letter was written.

Bertram was apparently unimpressed and, in fact, rather annoyed by Hulley’s lengthy 22-point discourse. His return letter begins:

“Mr. Carnegie has no time to waste on an application made with so little judgement that a gift of $100,000 is asked to put up a library building where a library building a third of the cost is ample and where one of the arguments given is ‘We are building a university here for 1,000 years to come. Our work is planned to last.’ Pardon me, but if you come to Mr. Carnegie for assistance, it is necessary for you to come out of the air and down to solid ground. Mr. Carnegie has no sympathy for an appeal, unless it is in proportion to what exists and to the number of students and the number of books.”

A STEP BACK

Just days later, Hulley, surely stung by Bertram’s strong rebuff, wrote a conciliatory return letter:

“My dear, Mr. Bertram: Allow me to thank you for your letter of January 30th. Your plain words were none too severe. My ideas are likely too big, due, perhaps, to my Harvard and Chicago training. … In presenting my petition to Mr. Carnegie, if I should err, through ignorance or foolish blundering, I shall gratefully accept any correction. … Please do not allow our interest to suffer through my stupidity. We need a library badly. … The South needs education. It needs education badly.”

Hulley then asked Bertram to send a representative to the campus to see the “fine university” and even offered up $150 to defray the expenses of such a visit. Although Hulley seemed to be well-versed in Carnegie’s views on religious institutions and his educational philosophy, he was obviously woefully misinformed on the application process itself.

Stetson’s case could have been made with nothing more than the application form, as very few smaller institutions that could make a decent case for a library building were turned down. In fact, Stetson fit in very well with Carnegie’s record of funding schools with endowments of less than $250,000. (Stetson’s endowment at the time of the application was $204,000.) The idea of a fledgling university catering to the uneducated masses in the relatively backwater state of Florida would have appealed to Carnegie.

Ignoring Hulley’s request to send someone to the campus, Bertram replied that Hulley’s apologies had put him back on “solid ground.” He reminded Hulley, however, that he had failed to provide a new dollar amount necessary to build the library “proportionate to the amount you are able to guarantee annually and to the needs of your institution in the present and the immediate future.”

Hulley responded with a revised request for $70,000 that he deemed would cover the cost of a sufficient building, and added that Stetson could meet the matching-fund requirement by using securities bearing 4% for its maintenance.

Yet, never one to give up easily, Hulley could not restrain himself from ending the letter with, “Kindly examine the photographs I sent of our beautiful buildings, and you will understand why our people want to put $100,000 into a building commensurate with our plant.”

Bertram must have been taken aback by the aplomb of this Florida college president, and it is a wonder that he continued to entertain the application at all. In an attempt to bring Hulley back on track, Bertram responded that “seventy-thousand dollars for a library building for your institution is only a degree less unreasonable than your first application.” He went on to inform Hulley that his plan for matching funds out of the existing budget was unacceptable and insisted that the matching funds be a new endowment because Carnegie did not “believe in ‘robbing Peter to pay Paul,’ which is what your offer amounts to.”

Somewhat repentant (and perhaps just a little disingenuously), Hulley immediately replied that the amount seemed high to him as well, and blamed the $70,000 figure on the building plan’s architect.

‘WILLING TO DO ANYTHING?’

At this point, Hulley apparently realized that he could not quite figure out Bertram’s formula and asked for whatever could be given: “Will Mr. Carnegie be so good as to indicate what he is willing to do for us, if he is willing to do anything? We will gratefully accept any proposition that his kindness may dictate… . And if he will set a figure anywhere up to $60,000, I will work my finger nails off to raise an equal amount provided he will give me six months to do it in.”

Bertram, for his part, consulted New York City architects Whitfield & King and asked the firm to advise Stetson on its building. Bertram’s attitude toward Hulley and Stetson’s lofty plans was clear in a letter to the architectural firm: “I feel you understand the situation perfectly and will help me to hold these fellows down. When I tell you that one of Mr. Hulley’s arguments was that he was building for a thousand years, you will understand the need of a cool head to hold down enthusiastic educators.”

Hulley, for his part, must have felt a bit of panic that he had overreached and lost the chance with Carnegie, because he wrote follow-up letters to Bertram almost begging for consideration and assuring that he could raise matching funds.

Finally, in a letter dated March 12, 1906, the good news arrived: Andrew Carnegie had granted $40,000 for a library building for

Today, Sampson Hall is a highlight of popular Palm Court.

John B. Stetson University, providing that an additional $40,000 in new endowment was raised for the maintenance of the library.

Hulley replied that he would begin the search for matching funds immediately. Although the $40,000 figure must have been somewhat of a disappointment, given the original goal of a $100,000 building, in reality it was quite a generous sum. Of the 108 academic institutions receiving Carnegie library funds, only 17 got more than $40,000.

As the university’s principal benefactor, John B. Stetson, had died in February 1906, Hulley naturally turned to his widow for the needed money. Mrs. Stetson agreed to establish the $40,000 matching trust, and the deal with Carnegie was sealed.

True to Hulley’s irrepressible nature, he could not resist saying in a letter to Carnegie that Mrs. Stetson would be happy to match up to $60,000 should Carnegie see fit to raise the amount of his gift. A return letter from Bertram simply ignored Hulley’s request to up the ante.

STETSON’S CARNEGIE LIBRARY, AT LAST

Hulley set about working with an architect to make do with far less than he had originally hoped. In 1908, the 15,000-volume library collection was moved to the first floor of the new building, which was designed to hold 40,000 volumes. The new structure was described in the university’s catalog as “one of the most beautiful buildings on the campus … an imposing structure 150-feet long by 50-feet wide, not counting the portico in front, nor the stack rooms in the rear. It is two stories in height.”

The building commanded a certain reverence; one student described it as having a “dignified authority.”

The importance of Stetson’s Carnegie Library should not be underestimated; it was surely one of the finest libraries in Florida at the time. Hulley highlighted the library’s importance in an address on Feb. 21, 1908, to dedicate the library:

“This library given to us by Mr. Carnegie, endowed by Mrs. Stetson, and also by Mr. Sampson, is to bless the whole State. It leads in the march of education now, and it will for years to come. It will inspire hope in all who come here to dream dreams for the betterment of their fellow men. The library is to be the workshop in which the students are to learn the mighty thoughts of the past. In it they are to commune with immortals. In it they are to drink at the fountain of wisdom. In it they are to learn that knowledge is power. In it they are to have opportunities unequaled not only in this state, but in all the South portion of the country. And when our work is done, and we have given place to those who are to follow after us, the sons of men shall rise and call these blessed who laid the foundations of this library.”

The Sampson Library, now known as Sampson Hall, still sits at the center of campus today — housing art galleries and studios, along with multiple academic departments.

With “Education is Power” engraved at its front, the building retains its Carnegie style and serves as a symbol of Stetson’s early growth and advancement.

Susan Ryan, MLS, is the Betty Drees Johnson Dean of the Library & Learning Technologies at Stetson.