British Architectural Books in Colonial New Zealand 1

Turnbull Library Record, Volume 34, 1 January 2001, Page 29

lan Lochhead

British Architectural Books in Colonial New Zealand 1

During the course of the 19th century the practice of architecture was transformed as a result of an explosion of published works dealing with every aspect of the profession. Up until the middle decades of the 18th century architectural books had been primarily concerned with the analysis of the classical orders and the revival of the classical language of building based on the study of the architectural remains of Rome. With the growth of classical archaeology in the second half of the 18th century and the expeditions of architects such as Stuart and Revett to Greece, a new emphasis was placed on the interpretation of architecture within the larger context of the society that produced it. The emergence of historical relativism in the last decades of the century was also associated with a dramatic increase in historical studies and anew interest in national architectural traditions, particularly the Gothic. 2 At the same time the industrial revolution led to the creation of new building materials, notably iron. From the early years of the 19th century architects had to come to terms with, on the one hand, an ever increasing body of knowledge about the architecture of the past and, on the other, the growing technical sophistication of their profession. In both these areas books were an essential tool for gaining access to and spreading this new knowledge.

By the middle decades of the 19th century architects had access to greater knowledge about the history of their art than ever before. Sir George Gilbert Scott, ever an accurate judge of the state of the architectural profession in Victorian

Britain, bemoaned the almost limitless choice of styles which confronted contemporary architects:

The peculiar characteristic of the present day, as compared with all former periods is this—that we are acquainted with the history of art ... In all periods of genuine art no one thought much of the past —each devoted his energies wholly to the present... and to this we mainly owe the perfection which each phase of art in its turn attained. It would be absurd to imagine that our knowledge of the whole history of art will be without its influence upon that which we ourselves generate . . . Influence it must exert —it is for us to guide that influence by subjecting it to our intellect. Like the portraiture of wisdom in ancient sculpture, we should have one face ever contemplating the past, and another always studying the demands of the future. 3

This information explosion was aided by the appearance of a new genre of architectural publication, the periodical, which made possible the rapid and inexpensive dissemination of new knowledge about every aspect of architecture. First among these new periodicals was the Builder (1843- ), followed just over a decade later by the Building news (1855-1926). Other important publications included the Illustrated London news (1843-) and the Civil engineer and architect’s journal (1837-67). 4 Improved printing technology, including wood engravings and subsequently lithographic illustrations, made it possible for these journals to convey accurate and detailed images of the latest buildings to an international audience. In addition, technical information was made available by the same means while manufacturers of both utilitarian and artistic architectural products made their goods known through another new type of architectural publication, the illustrated trade catalogue. While records of the latter, because of their essentially ephemeral nature, are scarce, a few 19th century examples survive in New Zealand collections. 5

Important as these developments in architectural publishing were for architects working in Britain, for those working in colonial New Zealand they were of inestimable value. 6 The reasons for this go to the very heart of 19th century architectural thought. Throughout most of the period the concept of historicism dominated architectural design; modem buildings were seen as the result of a creative interchange between the needs of the present and the exemplary buildings of the past, and this analytical process depended on a detailed understanding of architectural history. 7 Colonial architects, because they were, by definition, physically removed from the historical sources of their art, were inevitably disadvantaged, but they could, nevertheless, access published images of the buildings which formed the basis of their design vocabulary. At the same time, through pattern books and

periodicals such as the Builder, they were able to gain knowledge of contemporary designs in Britain, Europe and North America. Indeed, in a few cases, the process was a reciprocal one for images of New Zealand buildings also appeared in the pages of the Illustrated London news and the Builder , 8

The extent to which contemporary British architectural publications influenced the development of 19th century New Zealand architecture has never been adequately explored and here I can give only a limited number of examples drawn from well known 19th century buildings designed by a few leading architects. In doing so I hope to indicate both the nature of that influence and something of the range of architectural publications that reached New Zealand. Architectural books and periodicals were, in a very real sense, the lifeblood of architecture in Victorian New Zealand, allowing architects to bring to their buildings a richness of historical associations and a sophisticated awareness of contemporary developments that belied their physical remoteness from the centres of western architectural innovation.

As early as the 1840 s, when there were few professional architects in the colony, recent architectural books were already available. In September 1844 George Augustus Selwyn (1809-78), the Anglican Bishop of New Zealand, was living at the Church Missionary Society station at Te Waimate in Northland while preparing to move to Auckland where he planned to found a theological college at Tamaki. Selwyn had taken great interest in the architectural requirements of his diocese from the moment of his appointment and had been made a patron of the Cambridge Camden Society, later the Ecclesiological Society, prior to his departure for New Zealand. His architectural ambitions for his diocese are confirmed by an account of the Bishop at work found in a letter written by his chaplain, the Rev. W. C. Cotton, to his sisters in England: For two days after the Governor left us [Bishop Selwyn] worked at the plans [of St John’s College] as steadily as tho’ he had been an architect and nothing else —and before he gave over had not only the ground plan of the whole establishment drawn up, but also a beautiful general sketch of his idea of the whole —Mrs Selwyn looked in and admired —& turning to the frontispiece of one of Pugin’s books, viz., an ecclesiastic in his study designing a building, said ‘There you are my dear’. 9

This is more than a charming anecdote of a fond wife gently teasing her husband for his total absorption in his work. The image Cotton presents of the pioneering Bishop in the role of Pugin’s idealised medieval architect, as portrayed in the frontispiece of The true principles of pointed or Christian architecture (see Figure 1), tells us a great deal about the seriousness with which Selwyn approached his role as church builder as well as indicating the affinity which Victorian ecclesiastics felt with their medieval predecessors who had created such a rich heritage of Gothic churches.

Most tellingly, however, it confirms that Selwyn, although 12,000 miles away from the centres of architectural innovation, had to hand one of the latest, and most influential publications on contemporary architecture. The library at St John’s College, Auckland, still contains the extensive collection of architectural books assembled by Bishop Selwyn. These include several of the most important of Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin’s books, including The true principles of pointed or Christian architecture (1841) and An apology for the revival of Christian architecture in England (1843), presented to Selwyn in 1843 by Dr E. S. Hawtrey, Headmaster of Eton College. 10 We can get some idea of the importance Selwyn attached to these volumes from an entry in Cotton’s journal:

The Bishop hard at work as tho’ he had been bred an architect planning St John’s College, Bishop’s Auckland. For that was the name he wrote below when he had done. I went into the Palace in the evening and by 11 1/2 he had not only drawn the ground plan [giving] to each department its proper situation, but he had sketched a most beautiful general view of the whole. He is going to send this down to Auckland immediately, and will have the kitchen, hall & boys dormitories commenced immediately. He is going to send down Pugin’s works and other books of architectural details, together with his plans, that the architects may get the details right. 11

Pugin is widely regarded as one of the most influential architectural writers in Victorian Britain. 1 2 He shifted the Gothic Revival away from an interest in archaeology and the copying of ancient buildings and analysed the principles which governed the design of medieval structures, making it possible to design buildings that were adapted to the modem world but which preserved the spirit of medieval architecture. He also emphasised the social and moral dimension of architecture, seeing it as an expression of the values and beliefs of the society that produced it. Pugin almost single-handedly changed the Gothic Revival from an episode in taste to a moral cmsade. The tribute of the architect, Sir George Gilbert Scott, is symptomatic of Pugin’s impact on his contemporaries: ‘I was awakened from my slumbers by the thunder of Pugin’s writings . . ,’ 13

In New Zealand, where there was no western tradition of building to provide either models for design or standards of past excellence, Pugin’s books not only provided examples of accurate Gothic details —an important substitute for access to genuine medieval buildings—but also indicated a basis for adapting Gothic design principles to the new conditions and unfamiliar problems posed by building in a colonial environment. As Selwyn soon discovered, building in stone was beyond the capacity of the workmen available and too expensive for his limited funds. As a result Gothic Revival design principles were adapted to timber building by Selwyn’s architect, Frederick Thatcher (1814-90). 14

In designing buildings such as the St John’s College Chapel, Auckland, Thatcher drew on his own knowledge of medieval churches, on Puginian principles, on Selwyn’s practical ideas about securing buildings against wind and earthquakes, and on the ideas of the Ecclesiological Society. The plan of the chapel, with apsidal (semicircular) terminations at both the east and west ends of the nave, came from another published source, the Rev. J. L. Petit’s Remarks on church architecture (1841), a fact confirmed by Mrs Selwyn’s memoirs. She records that the plan was ‘partly of [the Bishop’s] own design and partly gathered from drawings by Mr Petit of Lichfield’. 1 " Not surprisingly, a copy of Petit’s book is still to be found in the St John’s College library. 16

From the start of Selwyn’s episcopacy the Cambridge Camden Society took great interest in the New Zealand church and the Society’s journal, the Ecclesiologist , contains regular accounts of New Zealand church building during the early 1840 s, commencing with the first issue in 1841. 1 7 The Ecclesiological Society was scarcely

less influential than Pugin in redirecting the course of Anglican church building during the middle decades of the 19th century and their influence spread far beyond the British Isles. 18 In 1845 the Society claimed that it ‘did bestride the narrow world like a colossus’. 19 This global plan to influence church building was advanced, in part, through the international dissemination of the society’s publications. The Ecclesiologist records gifts of publications to the Bishop of New Zealand and these, including copies of the Ecclesiologist itself, and influential works such as the Handbook of Ecclesiology (1847) and their edition of Durandus’s Symbolism of churches and church ornament (1843) are still in the library of St John’s College. 20 A knowledge of the ideas contained in these publications is fundamental to our understanding of the form which Thatcher gave to buildings such as the St John’s College Chapel and later works such as Wellington’s first Anglican cathedral, now ‘Old St Paul’s’.

Another book to be found in the St John’s College Library, P. F. Robinson’s Village architecture (1837), has a particular connection with Thatcher. 21 Robinson was one of the architects who sponsored Thatcher’s application for membership of the Institute of British Architects in 1836 and it is quite probable that he was also Thatcher’s teacher. What Robinson’s publications reveal is a precocious interest in English vernacular building techniques, including timber frame construction, exactly the methods which Thatcher was later to adopt in the design and construction of buildings at St John’s. He had, in fact, explored these techniques earlier in New Plymouth, where the only surviving example of his secular Gothic work stands, the former colonial hospital now known as ‘The Gables’. 22 Thatcher’s designs clearly demonstrate his knowledge of the writings of Pugin and the Ecclesiologists, but their ultimate origin in his mentor’s published designs is also clear.

Thatcher’s work demonstrates some important characteristics of the influence of architectural publications on colonial buildings. First, there is little discernible time lag in the translation of ideas into buildings; Pugin’s books sometimes arrived in New Zealand in the year of publication and the same was true of the Ecclesiological Society’s publications. Secondly, ideas were seldom derived from a single source. Rather, architects selected what they required from a range of different publications and combined this information with their own knowledge and accumulated experience to produce buildings which possessed a sophistication and quality that belied the primitive state of colonial society. In some respects colonial buildings were even in advance of developments in Britain; the plan of the St John’s College Chapel, with its French Gothic-inspired apsidal east and west ends, preceded such innovations in English architecture by almost a decade.

By 1850 Bishop Selwyn’s initial building programme at St John’s College was largely complete, but in the south a new colonising venture was just commencing a series of wide-ranging architectural projects. The Church of England-sponsored Canterbury Settlement was the most ambitious of all 19th century colonising

ventures in New Zealand and the colonists’ architectural ideals were commensurate with their social vision. Even prior to the despatch of the first group of settlers in 1850 the Canterbury Association had approached the leading Gothic Revival architect, William Butterfield, to provide model designs, and the first group of colonists included Benjamin Mountfort (1825-98), an architect who had trained with another leading Gothic Revivalist, R. C. Carpenter, and whose library already contained key works by Pugin and the Ecclesiologists. 21 Although Mountfort’s architectural library was dispersed on the death of his son, Cyril, in 1920, key books have been identified. His well-used copies of Pugin’s True principles and An apology (see Figure 2) are inscribed and dated 1841 and 1843 respectively, indicating that Mountfort acquired both books in their years of publication. 24 For Mountfort, Pugin’s books were a source of inspiration throughout his career. Although never a member of the Ecclesiological Society he owned copies of their publications and was influenced by the Society’s ideas on church design.

Mountfort ’ s understanding of Gothic Revival principles and first-hand knowledge of medieval architecture was unrivalled in colonial New Zealand. He was also very conscious of the absence of any European architectural tradition in his adopted country and throughout his New Zealand career made a conscious effort to forge links between the architecture of his new land and the ancient building traditions of

Britain. His first building in Canterbury, the ill-fated Holy Trinity church at Lyttelton, was modelled on late medieval timber-framed churches in which the space between the frame was filled with brick then plastered over.'" Mountfort was well aware of the timber churches at Lower Peover and Marton in Cheshire, both of which had been discussed in an article on wooden churches in the Ecclesiologist in 1848. 26 However, he also knew modem designs by English contemporaries based on these models, notably Carpenter’s wooden church for Tristan da Cunha, published by the Ecclesiological Society in Instrumenta ecclesiastia, a collection of model designs specifically intended for colonial parishes. A closely related design for a wooden church with a thatched roof was published by Mountfort’s exact contemporary, George Truefitt, in his Designs for country churches (1850; see Figure 3). ' 7 The influence of both these publications recurs throughout Mountfort’s career in New Zealand. By combining elements from published medieval and modem sources at Holy Trinity, Lyttelton, Mountfort produced one of the most spectacular colonial churches ever erected in this country. Regrettably, his unfamiliarity with the characteristics of local materials led to stmctural problems and the church was dismantled in 1857.

Another revealing example of the way in which published designs could be translated into colonial buildings can be seen at St John’s Church, Woolston, Christchurch (1857). The church is based on Carpenter’s chapel-school, also published in Instrumenta ecclesiastica, but Mountfort employed cob construction, a building technique that Carpenter surely never anticipated. 2 * The monolithic character of cob construction had much in common with Carpenter’s masonry structure, although later in his career Mountfort again used Carpenter’s design as the model for the stone country church of St Mary’s, Esk Valley (1878-80), in South Canterbury. 29

Mountfort is best known as the architect of the Canterbury Provincial Council buildings in Christchurch, built in three stages between 1858 and 1865. The 1859 sections incorporate a stone tower of banded red and grey stone, the earliest example of Victorian constructional polychromy in Australasia. What is remarkable about this tower is that Mountfort’s knowledge of what was popularly known as the ‘streaky bacon’ style was derived entirely from architectural publications, as the High Victorian taste for structural polychromy only emerged in the early 1850 s with such buildings as Butterfield’s All Saint’s Church in Margaret Street, London (185059). By the time All Saints was completed Mountfort had been in New Zealand for almost a decade but illustrations of this spectacular church were widely available in architectural journals. Even though these wood engravings were monochrome, they gave a clear indication of the colouristic effects Butterfield intended; Mountfort’s knowledge of medieval polychrome decoration allowed him to add colour in his imagination. Further stimulus was provided by Ruskin’s Stones of Venice, published in three volumes between 1853 and 1856, and G. E. Street’s Brick and

marble of the Middle Ages in Italy (1855). Both works played an important role in generating interest in medieval examples of polychrome decoration and their adaptation in modem buildings. On a walking tour in the 1840 s Mountfort had also visited the Bede House at Higham Ferrers in Northamptonshire, a well known English example of stmctural polychromy and, if his memory needed refreshing, detailed drawings were available in Dollman and Jobbins Ancient domestic architecture , the first volume of which was published in 1858. 30

The interior of the Canterbury Provincial Council Chamber, completed in 1865, reveals how thoroughly Mountfort grasped the concept of High V ictorian polychrome decoration without having seen any examples at first hand. The building also reveals the unexpected effects that could result from the transmission of architectural ideas through the print media. The Crystal Palace, designed by Joseph Paxton and erected in Hyde Park in London to house the Great Exhibition of 1851, was a subject of enormous public interest, and detailed accounts and extensive illustrations were published in both specialised architectural journals and more general publications such as the Illustrated London news. The Crystal Palace, a structural iron skeleton sheathed in glass, was hardly the sort of building to appeal to a committed Gothic

Revivalist such as Mountfort, yet he recognised the potential of the system of ridge and furrow construction used for the glazed roof of the Crystal Palace and adapted it for the timber ceiling of the Council Chamber. There is no medieval precedent for such a roof and we can only conclude that Mountfort was imagining how a medieval architect would have approached the design of such a roof structure. 31

The Provincial Council Chamber is a telling example of the way in which modem and ancient published sources could be synthesised in one design. Contemporary observers noted that the screen in the Council Chamber bore a striking resemblance to that in Gilbert Scott’s Exeter College Chapel, Oxford, published in Building news in 1862. Mountfort’s knowledge of this illustration was combined with details from the arcaded sedilia (a seat for priests usually found on the south wall of the chancel) in the medieval church at Rushden, Northamptonshire, a building he probably visited as a young man. The Rushden sedilia was illustrated in J. H. Parker’s Glossary of Gothic architecture, of which Mountfort owned the 1850 fifth edition. 32 On the completion of the Provincial Council Chamber in 1865, Mountfort presented his copy of this richly illustrated source book of Gothic details to the master mason who worked on the building, William Brassington (1837/417-1905). 33 Brassington probably had the Glossary on hand throughout the constmction of the building, the book acting as a substitute for contact with the real thing. The Glossary provided the model for the windows of the Council Chamber’s side walls, their simple Early English Gothic details and free-standing internal tracery being derived from Parker ’ s illustration of the nave windows of Stone Church in Kent. 34 Brassington used other illustrations, such as those of corbels (projecting blocks of stone supporting beams or other stmctural members), as the starting point for his own inventions in the medieval manner. Parker’s publication was, in a very real sense, a paper museum for architects and craftsmen unable to study medieval buildings at first hand, and was an invaluable supplement to the architectural journals which offered up to date inspiration from the latest buildings ‘at home’. 35

Mountfort was very conscious of the lack of visible history in New Zealand and would have shared the views which Archdeacon Henry Harper expressed in a letter to a friend in England in 1868:

In a country so new that it is completely devoid of any historical associations in the past, it is well nigh impossible to imagine any sort of ghost. Often ... I have wondered what the general effect will be on the rising generation here, of a country without a past. Scenery there is, much of it splendid in its grandeur . . . but until the last few years, absolute solitude as far as any association with man is concerned... It seems to me the rising generation will miss much. The Historic Imagination, in their case, will have next to nothing to feed on . . . Imagine the gradual effect of a life spent in a country where you never

see relics of past history which will take you back to the beginning of the Christian era; ruins, castles, churches, cathedrals, tombs, the handiwork of Celt and Saxon, Angle, Dane and Norman, who have made us what we are . . , 36

Today we no longer view New Zealand’s pre-European contact past in the same way, but Harper’s observations help to explain why Mountfort emphasised the links between his designs and the architecture of the European past. As we have seen, architectural publications played an important role in making this possible. Mountfort’s desire to interweave past and present is nowhere more apparent than in his design for the Canterbury Museum. Begun in 1869, the building was repeatedly enlarged until 1876 when it assumed its present exterior form. 37 Mountfort’s design is based on Deane and Woodward ’ s Oxford University Museum (185 5-59). This was illustrated on its completion in Building news and a detailed account of the building’s conception, design and construction, written by Sir Henry Acland and John Ruskin, was published in the same year. s Acland, Ruskin and their architects were attempting to emulate the medieval concept of the building as a book that all could read, but their published explanation of the Museum was a tacit admission of failure. Such publications, however, had the virtue of making their ideas widely known and reached a much larger public than that which was able to visit the museum itself.

Mountfort’s design for the Canterbury Museum is anything but a slavish copy of the Oxford building and the tower owes more to late medieval French prototypes than to that in the centre of Deane and Woodward’s building. The taste for French Gothic had been stimulated by a series of illustrated publications dating from the 1850 s and 1860 s, the best known being Richard Norman Shaw’s sumptuous Architectural sketches from the Continent (1858; see Figure 4). It illustrated medieval secular buildings which could readily be adapted to the design of a natural history museum, a building type for which there was no medieval prototype. Shaw’s lithographic plates showing Jacques Coeur’s house in Bourges provided a valuable source for Mountfort’s museum tower. 39 Such visual associations with the old world would have been readily recognised by Victorian museum goers and would have helped to compensate for the lack of ancient buildings which Harper found such a conspicuous feature of the local landscape. The design of the porch, however, derives from a more up to date source, G. E. Street’s church at Howsham, Yorkshire, published in the Civil engineer and architect’s journal in 1861. 40 Of all contemporary English architects, Street is the one whom Mountfort most admired and the two men, bom within a year of one another, shared many characteristics. The Museum’s porch can perhaps be interpreted as Mountfort’s tribute to his distinguished English contemporary.

The role which architectural publications, both historical and contemporary, played in shaping colonial architecture in New Zealand is amply demonstrated by the

work of both Thatcher and Mountfort. In reality, comparatively few colonial architects possessed the depth and range of historical knowledge that is revealed in the works of these two architects, nor the sophisticated ability to weave historical and contemporary sources into a synthesis that was unmistakably their own. Although we know little of Thatcher’s architectural library, we can be certain that Mountfort, if deprived of his own book collection, would have experienced a greater sense of isolation than physical distance from his English roots could ever have made him feel. Indeed, descriptions of Mountfort’s Christchurch home reveal that it was filled with books and that the contents of his library ranged from studies of medieval history to contemporary science. 41

A rare glimpse of a colonial architect ordering books for his professional library is found in a letterbook of another prominent Christchurch architect, W. B. Armson (1834-81). Armson arrived in Christchurch in 1870 after pursuing his career in Dunedin, Oamaru and Hokitika. 42 The extensive range of books he ordered in 1874 from the London bookseller B. T. Batsford suggests that Armson was rebuilding his professional library after some misadventure, either through fire or when shifting office. 43 The list of books ordered contains standard works such as Brandon’s An analysis of Gothic architecture (1847) and Open timber roofs of the Middle Ages (1849) along with other more specialised volumes. The order is virtually a checklist of key publications to be found in many architectural offices, both in Britain and its colonies, during the mid-Victorian period. The firm which Armson established in Christchurch in 1870 continued to flourish as Armson, Collins and Harman, subsequently as Collins and Harman, and then as Collins and Son. Over the decades the firm’s library continued to grow around the nucleus of books Armson ordered in 1874, but miraculously the library survived intact into the 19905. When the partnership of Collins Architects was dissolved in 1993 the firm’s entire archive, along with its library, was given to the University of Canterbury Library. 44 This farsighted action on the part of Armson’s successors ensured that his library not only remained intact, but also preserved an essential tool for the detailed analysis of the practice’s buildings.

Armson was not the only architect to order books regularly from Batsford in London. The Wellington architect Thomas Turnbull (1824-1907), another inveterate architectural book collector, also used Batsford as his London agent. His biographical entry in the Cyclopedia of New Zealand noted that

Mr Batsford, for many years has had a standing order to send out all the best works published about architecture and kindred subjects. [Mr Turnbull’s] extensive library therefore contains a valuable collection of architectural works, supposed to be the finest private collection in the Southern Hemisphere. 45 Whether or not this claim could be sustained, Turnbull’s boast illustrates the

professional prestige attached to having a well-stocked, up to date library. In a very real sense a colonial architect was only as good as the contents of his library. Like Armson’s library, Turnbull’s has also remained largely intact and is now housed in the Victoria University of Wellington Architecture Library.

Because the British colonisation of New Zealand coincided with the explosion of 19th century architectural publication, almost the entire development of western architecture in New Zealand has been shaped by the new accessibility of images and ideas resulting from this publishing revolution. New Zealand’s colonial architecture thus provides an ideal test case for a detailed examination of this phenomenon. As we have seen, British architectural books and periodicals were widely available in Victorian New Zealand and their use can be amply documented. In a British colony, this is what we would expect to find. The dependence of colonial architectures on models derived from the architecture of the colonising power has long been recognised, although there is increasing evidence that colonies did not always slavishly follow the lead of the ‘mother country’. In New Zealand’s case this is especially true in the area of housing, 6 though this aspect is beyond the scope of this article. A thorough assessment of the impact of architectural books and periodicals on

building in 19th century New Zealand will have to await a comprehensive survey of relevant printed material in New Zealand libraries and will also depend on a thorough analysis of the libraries of the few remaining architectural offices that originated during the colonial period, as well as on a search for key items now in private collections. In tracing the impact of individual books, the ability to establish the provenance of publications will be of crucial importance. Such a survey would make it possible to uncover new and unexpected links between the architecture of the new world and the old and as a consequence provide new insights into the meanings of colonial architecture as well as enhancing our understanding of the society which produced it. It would also make possible a wider assessment of the impact of print culture on the colonial building world as a whole. While the needs of builders were less specialised than those of architects, they too made extensive use of the new professional and trade publications, including the growing number of house pattern books and the later plan books, many of which originated from the United States. 47

Architects in colonial New Zealand were ideally placed to take full advantage of the international accessibility of architectural information made possible by the revolution in 19th century printing technology. Isolation from centres of architectural innovation was no longer an obstacle to progress and remoteness from centres of architectural tradition was no more an inhibition to historical knowledge. Colonial architects were, in fact, among the first in their profession to experience fully the liberating effects of this revolution. In this respect they were pioneers in an approach to architecture which, in the 20th century, was to become the norm for architects around the world.

Turnbull Library Record 34 (2001), 29-44

References 1 An earlier version of this paper was presented at the History of Print Culture in New Zealand conference, ‘ln visible languages: The visual dimension of print culture’, National Library of New Zealand, Wellington, 29-31 August 1997. 2 For succinct accounts of this process see J. M. Crook, The dilemma of style (London: John Murray, 1987), p. 13 ff., and B. Bergdoll, European architecture, 1750-1890 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), p. 9 ff. For a survey of British architectural publications up to 1785 see Eileen Harris & Nicholas Savage, British architectural books and writers, 1556-1785 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990). There is no comparable study for the 19th century although Nikolaus Pevsner, Some architectural writers of the nineteenth century (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972), provides a useful introduction.

3 G. G. Scott, Remarks on secular and domestic architecture, present andfuture (London: John Murray, 1857), pp. 263-65. 4 See Frank Jenkins, ‘Nineteenth century architectural periodicals’, in Concerning architecture, ed. Sir John Summerson (London: Allen Lane, 1968). 5 See, for example, Cranston’s patent buildings for horticulture (Birmingham, 1872). This catalogue, along with a larger undated version, is held in the Architecture and Planning Library, University of Auckland. Inserted in these copies are drawings by Benjamin Mountfort for the use

of Cranston’s system. One of the most comprehensive catalogues was Jones and Willis, An illustrated catalogue of some of the articles of church furniture manufactured by Jones and Willis, 70th ed. (Birmingham, 1899). The University of Canterbury Library, Christchurch, holds a copy from the office of Armson, Collins and Harman. 6 For a brief survey of British architectural books in New Zealand collections see I. J. Lochhead, From Palladianism to the Gothic Revival: Two centuries of British architectural books (Christchurch: Robert McDougall Art Gallery, 1987).

7 For a recent discussion of 19th century historicism see Bergdoll, European architecture, p. 173 ff. 8 For example, a perspective view of Maxwell Bury’s Supreme Court building, Auckland, was published in the Builder (9 March 1867), p. 170. See P. Richardson, ‘Building the Dominion: Government architecture in New Zealand, 1840-1922’ (unpublished doctoral thesis, 2 vols, University of Canterbury, 1997), 1, p. 160. 9 W. C. Cotton to his sisters, 9 September 1844, in Letters from W. C. Cotton, December 1841November 1847, University Library, Cambridge University: Selwyn College; microfilm held at Auckland War Memorial Museum Library.

10 Selwyn had been a master at Eton before his appointment to the Bishopric of New Zealand. The books can be identified by a dated inscription recording their presentation to Selwyn. 11 W. C. Cotton, Journal, 4 September 1844, Dixson Library, Sydney; microfilm held at Auckland War Memorial Museum Library. 12 On Pugin see P. Atterbury and C. Wainwright, eds., Pugin, a Gothic passion (London: Yale University Press, 1994). For a comprehensive account of Pugin’s publications see M. Belcher, A. W. N. Pugin: An annotated critical bibliography (London: Mansell, 1987). 13 G. G. Scott, Personal and professional recollections (London: Sampson Low, 1879), p. 90. 14 See J. N. Mane-Wheoki, ‘Selwyn Gothic: The formative years,’ Art New Zealand, 54 (1990), 7681, and C. R. Knight, The Selwyn churches of Auckland (Wellington: Reed, 1972). See also M. Alington, Frederick Thatcher and St Paul’s: An ecclesiological study (Wellington: Government Printer, 1965). 15 Sarah Selwyn, Reminiscences: 1809-1867, p. 30. This version, with an introduction and notes by Enid A. Evans, is based on a typescript in Auckland War Memorial Museum Library. 16 A further copy, previously owned by Thatcher’s assistant at St John’s College, the architect Reader Wood, is in the author’s collection.

17 See Ecclesiologist, 1 no. 1 (November 1841), 4-5; no. 2 (November 1841), 31; no. 3 (January 1842), 47; no. 4 (February 1842), 51. 18 On the Ecclesiological Society see James F. White, The Cambridge Movement: The ecclesiologists and the Gothic Revival (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1962). 19 Ecclesiologist, 4 (1845), 24. 20 Ecclesiologist, 11 (1850), 185. 21 Mane-Wheoki, ‘Selwyn Gothic’, pp.7B-9, and Richardson, ‘Building the Dominion’, 1, pp.9l- -

22 F. Porter, ed., Historic buildings of New Zealand: North Island (Auckland: Cassell New Zealand, 1979), pp. 179-80. 23 For a detailed discussion of Mountfort’s career and his role in shaping the architectural character of colonial Canterbury see lan Lochhead, A dream of spires: Benjamin Mountfort and the Gothic Revival (Christchurch: Canterbury University Press, 1999). 24 These books, along with Mountfort’s copy of the third edition of Pugin’s Glossary of ecclesiastical ornament and costume, later belonged to the architect W. H. Gummer and are now in a private collection in Papakura. 25 See Lochhead, A dream of spires, pp. 66-76. 26 W. Scott, ‘On wooden churches’, Ecclesiologist, 9 (1849) 14-27. Mountfort’s copy of volume 1 (1841) of Ecclesiologist, is held in the National Library of New Zealand, Wellington, although

recent attempts to locate this volume have been unsuccessful. 27 A copy of this book, from an unknown source, is in the Alexander Turnbull Library, National Library of New Zealand, Wellington. A second copy, originally part of the Christ’s College Library, Christchurch, is now in the collection of the University of Canterbury Library. 28 Instrumenta ecclesiastica, Second series (London: Cambridge Camden Society, 1856), plates 4347. Instrumenta ecclesiastica was published in parts between 1850 and 1856, appearing in full in 1856. An earlier series was issued in 1847. See also Lochhead, A dream of spires, pp. 79-82. 29 Lochhead, A dream of spires, pp. 203-4. 30 Ibid., pp.9B-102. 31 Ibid., pp.lll-113. 32 J. H. Parker, A glossary of terms used in Grecian, Roman, Italian, and Gothic architecture, sth ed., 3 vols., (Oxford: J. H. Parker, 1850), 3, plate 188. 33 This copy is held as part of the Brassington papers in the Robert McDougall Art Gallery, Christchurch. It is inscribed, ‘William Brassington / from / B W Mountfort / New Council Chamber / Christchurch, N. Zealand, June 26, 1865’.

34 J. H. Parker, Glossary, 3, plate 231. 35 It is worth noting that Parker presented a copy of the Glossary to ‘the Lord Bishop of New Zealand, and his successors, for the use of the clergy of his diocese’. This copy is still held in the Library of St John’s College, Auckland, along with other architectural books both published and presented by Parker. 36 H. W. Harper, Letters from New Zealand, 1857-1911 (London: Hugh Rees, 1914), pp. 146-7. 37 See Lochhead, A dream of spires, pp. 262-270. 38 H. Acland and J. Ruskin, The Oxford Museum, 2nd edn (London: George Allen, 1893). 39 R. Norman Shaw, Architectural sketches from the Continent (London: Day & Sons, [1858]), plate 13.

40 For an illustration of Street’s Howsham church see Lochhead, A dream of spires, p. 270. 41 J. C. Andersen, Old Christchurch in picture and story (Christchurch: Simpson and Williams, 1949), p. 410. 42 For Armson’s career see W. B. Armson, a colonial architect rediscovered, ed. by I. J. Lochhead and J. N. Mane (Christchurch: Robert McDougall Art Gallery, 1983) and J. K. Collins, A century of architecture (Christchurch: Collins & Son, 1965). 43 The list is contained in W. B Armson, Letterbook, Armson/Collins Collection, Macmillan Brown Library, University of Canterbury. 44 A checklist of the library as it was in 1993 is held in the University of Canterbury Library. 45 See The cyclopedia of New Zealand: Wellington provincial district (Wellington: Cyclopedia Co. Ltd., 1897), p. 586.

46 Toomath has recently demonstrated the important role of American pattern books in shaping 19th century New Zealand domestic architecture; see W. Toomath, Built in New Zealand: The houses we live in (Auckland: Harper Collins, 1996). British models were also transmitted in modified form through publications originating in the United States; see lan Lochhead, ‘At home with the past: The Gothic Revival house in New Zealand’ in At home in New Zealand: Houses, history, people, ed. by Barbara Brookes (Wellington: Bridget Williams Books, 2000), pp.s-23. 47 See T oomath and Ann McEwan, ‘An ‘American dream ’ in the ‘ England of the Pacific ’: American influences on New Zealand architecture, 1840-1940’ (unpublished doctoral thesis, University of Canterbury, 2001), pp. 138-85.