In 1870 forty-two per cent of the population of Melbourne was under fourteen years old. Without playgrounds or organised sports they took to the streets, smashing trams and tearing down trees in public parks. Historian Simon Sleight charts this forgotten history of youth turmoil in a new book about the Victorian capital.

Melbourne is one of the world's great cities, with a population that is cosmopolitan, cultured and sports mad.

But its modern face hides a disorganised past, when a huge youth population roamed the streets in search of fun, and 'larrikins' were destructive hoodlums more reminiscent of A Clockwork Orange than Barry McKenzie.

Lecturer in history at King's College London Simon Sleight describes the port town in the late 19th century as 'a sapling city' in his book Young People and the Shaping of Public Space in Melbourne, 1870-1914.

The concept of childhood is changed by altering the concept of the street. We now have a deficit model of childhood which sees children as essentially vulnerable in the public realm. Simon Sleight, historian

Its roads were being transformed into boulevards, electric lighting was replacing gas, and the horses that pulled taxi cabs were being carted to the knackery—replaced with trams.

Forty-two per cent of the population were under the age of 14. There were children everywhere but no playgrounds. Conflict was inevitable.

'It's described as "perspiring juvenile humanity" by one observer in the 1870s,' Sleight says. 'Young people are everywhere, they're selling things and playing in the streets, forming gangs and hanging out on street corners and in vacant lots and they are very much a focus for concern for city fathers.'

'Conflicts over the use of public space often feature age as a central factor. Indeed I think age is a crucial category of analysis for understanding urban experience, just like class, gender, or race.'

Historical documents and photographs from the time—personal diaries, letters of complaint to newspapers, letters to the town clerk, police files and parliamentary debates—show that children were considered a nuisance in public parks, which were still places set aside for gentlemanly strolling and contemplation.

'Essentially there were lots of complaints about children playing in parks,' Sleight says. 'A playground forms in Darling Square in 1897 and someone writes to say that this is not what the park was intended for when it was opened on Sundays.'

But with the working class living in cramped, stuffy houses, often without back yards, no amount of complaints by concerned citizens could keep Melbourne's 19th century youth off the streets.

'The suburban backyard isn't a common feature in this period,' Sleight says. 'So supervised play in the sanctuary of the home was less likely—particularly for working class children—than is the case today.'

The word larrikin develops as a pejorative used to describe these working class children, and becomes a popular term in irate newspaper articles of the late 1800s.

'It refers to tearaway young people, often whose behaviour in public spaces causes great consternation for the city fathers,' Sleight says.

Larrikin behaviour included incidents like that involving Victoria Cross recipient William Joint, who pushed an unused train carriage down the tracks at Elsternwick to see it crash and block the rail line.

Unlike parenting today, these kids were not cotton-wooled. Empty lots and found objects were being turned into playgrounds.

'The concept of childhood is changed by altering the concept of the street,' Sleight says. 'We now have a deficit model of childhood which sees children as essentially vulnerable in the public realm.'

But by the turn of the century, Melbourne was beginning to understand the concept of the playground and see the worth in providing spaces for structured play.

'Essentially there is a transition from a playground city to city of playgrounds,' Sleight says.

Carlton Gardens became the city's first children's playground. Trees in the park were having branches broken and some building equipment was turned into playground furniture. This was against the intended use of the park and rewards were offered to catch offenders. But the young people were persistent. In 1896 the park's curator discovered a secret play space, and instead of tearing it down decided to support the needs of local children.

Conversation with Simon Sleight Wednesday 14 August 2013 Listen to author Simon Sleight speak about the design of Melbourne streets on By Design. More This [series episode segment] has image,

By 1907 the playground movement had taken off.

'There's an effort to channel children off the streets into organised activities both in parks but also through organised activities like football and cricket,' Sleight says.

By the end of this period places like St Kilda were seeing much larger groups of young people come to seek entertainment at venues like The Palais and the seaside baths.

'There's organised amusements for young people by the end of this period, and it's very much the efforts of adults to catch up with what young people had been wanting for some time.'

And while the city continued to adapt itself to accommodate the needs of its younger citizens, the idea of a city as fundamentally a 'youthscape' is still relevant today, Sleight says.

Through youthful acts of rebellion like graffiti Melbourne remains an 'overlapping, underlying and competing city space produced by young people often in conflict with adult intentions', he says.

Find out more at By Design.

