Hands up who adores libraries? That’ll be everyone on Substack, then. Although private libraries have been around since ancient times, the good old publicly funded lending library is a relatively recent phenomenon. Today, I take a look at London’s very first public library, which opened just a five minute walk from the Houses of Parliament.
Where was London’s First Public Library?
10 March 1857. If you are a Londoner and you like libraries, then remember that date. Celebrate that date. It is the day on which our city got its first public library.
That original lending library opened on Great Smith Street, just around the corner from Westminster Abbey. Local residents had free access to 2,500 books, and at least one copy of all the daily journals. Unlike earlier libraries1, anybody could use the new resource without a fee, thanks to funding by the tax-payer. The only stipulation was that a name and address had to be added to a log book when taking out a loan.
It was a momentous step forward for adult education. But how did it come about, who used the new resource, and what did they borrow?
Ewart’s Act
One of the dignitaries who attended the opening of the library was William Ewart MP. It was Ewart who had campaigned hardest to make public libraries a reality, despite dogged opposition in the House of Commons. All kinds of objections were raised. The most cringey, from our perspective, was the use of public money going on something as frivolous as books for the working classes. Didn’t they have work to do? Could they even read? Ewart persisted and ultimately won the argument. The Public Libraries Act 1850, sometimes called Ewart’s Act in his honour, gave local authorities the ability to collect tax specifically for the creation of public lending libraries. A new, more bookish era was born.
(Aside: This alone makes me want to give three cheers for Ewart — in a hushed voice, of course, so as not to disturb library users. But get this. The same man also initiated the Blue Plaque scheme to commemorate persons of note, which is still going strong today. He also campaigned against the death penalty, and for the adoption of the metric system of weights and measures. What a thoroughly excellent legacy. Ewart deserves to be better known, so if you get nothing else from this newsletter, then at least remember his name.)
Now, I’m afraid the next paragraph will involve a short discussion of taxation, which is seldom a topic to warm the cockles. But do read it carefully, because it is important for what follows…
Ewart’s Act allowed local rates (taxes) to increase by a halfpenny in the pound to fund public libraries and museums, if a local authority so chose. But councils could not simply impose this tax on a whim. The levy could only be adopted if local rate-payers voted with a two-thirds majority in favour. Today, most of us have the pleasure of contributing income tax, but this was not the case in the mid-19th century. Only the wealthier classes paid the rates. The poorer folk, who stood to gain most from the free libraries, were not rate-payers. They had no vote, and no say in whether they would get a local library. In addition, the Act only applied to local authorities with populations over 10,000, and the money could only be used for buildings and staffing — not for books.
The Act had more terms and conditions than a mortgage application to Stickler & Jobsworth Bank plc. Even so, a few authorities did meet the criteria. The first was Winchester as early as 1851, followed by several northern towns including Bolton, Manchester, Liverpool and Salford. Ewart wryly observed that the further north one goes, the greater the intelligence.
Londoners took longer to convince. Marylebone and St Pancras, for example, both held votes but could not pass the majority. Ewart’s Act was amended in 1855 to remove the population limit and reduce the vote threshold to a simple majority. Councils could also add up to a penny in the pound to the tax burden. The measures helped, and 20 towns had public libraries by February 1857. The capital city was not among them.
London joins the party
Westminster was the first London area to bite. Here, a vote organised by the Vestry Council of St Margaret and St John found enough rate-payers in favour of the Act, and the library was given the go-ahead. The site selected was an old Literary, Scientific and Mechanics Institution2 on Great Smith Street. The building no longer exists, but we do have this simple pencil sketch courtesy of Google Books.
Though small by modern standards, the library was an immediate hit, attracting keen readers from all walks of life. It opened for eight hours per day: 9am-1pm and then an evening session of 5pm-9pm to allow workers access after their shifts.
It wasn’t necessarily the most commodious of study rooms, however. Accounts describe it as a humble space with “uncomfortable rows of school-like desks”. Readers could not simply select a book from a shelf, as would be the case in most libraries today. Instead, they had to be requested at the library desk.
The Dean and Chapter of Westminster chipped in £50 towards books and a year after opening it held up to 3,800 volumes. These were administered by London’s very first public librarian, a Mr Thomas Smith.
During its first year, an average of 141 people per day used the library, “a large proportion of whom belong to the mechanical and labouring classes,” according to a press update. By June 1858, a second, smaller branch had opened at number 3 Trevor Square in Knightsbridge, though with just 425 books.
An article from 1883 gives us a flavour of what people were reading at the two venues:
“Westminster does not seem to possess many aspiring philosophers, for only 164 works of philosophy were studied during the year. Theology is also at a discount, for only 804 works of that class were consulted. How many politicians there are as desirous as they are needful of instruction may be inferred from the fact that only 2,529 volumes dealing with politics and commerce were even called for in the twelve months. An improving taste for the sciences and arts is shown in the 3,367 books of that class being consulted, and a penchant for travel is betokened in the 10,552 volumes of history, biography, voyages, and travels which were read. But all these figures dwindle into insignificance when we consider that no less than 59,901 books of fiction, and 19,410 of general literature were issued during the year.”
Then, as now, works of fiction proved overwhelmingly more desirable than non-fiction. Recent novels that may have been popular include Heidi (1880), The Portrait of a Lady (1881) and Treasure Island (1883).
The library was mostly used by men, but women and school children also called round. An article from 1881 gives a few statistics about female patronage. In that year, 298 women borrowed books, versus 675 men. Of the women, 147 were married, 25 were school girls, 12 governesses, 11 dressmakers and 6 domestic servants.
We can also trace the growth in the library’s popularity from the number of books requested or lent out to the public each year:
1860: 51,571
1878-79: 84,989
1883: 96,727
1884: 112, 816
1888: 146,158
These figures, taken from news reports, show a steady growth in interest for the library.
We’re going to need a bigger library
By the 1890s, the main Westminster library had outgrown its building and the land, in any case, was needed for redevelopment. A new, purpose-built library was commissioned, almost opposite the original site, at a cost of £14,000. This much-enlarged library was accompanied by new public baths and washhouses next door. Both facilities opened on the same day, 21 August 1893.
And what a handsome devil it is. The details over the door record that this is indeed Westminster Public Library, opened AD 1893 by the United Parishes of St Margaret and St John the Evangelist3. Just to remind us that this is a place of learning, the faces of Spenser, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Dryden, Milton and Tennyson appear in panels above the windows. No women, alas, even though the likes of Austen, the Brontës, George Eliot, Elizabeth Barrett Browning and many others were household names. Still, it was a building to be proud of, along with the similarly designed public baths next door.
What of the two library buildings today? The first library — the very first public library in London funded by taxpayers — was sadly lost when Church House was constructed in 1893. Its replacement, shown above, is no longer a library. Since 2001 it has been the Cinnamon Club Indian restaurant, whose dining room nestles in among the old book shelves. You can no longer wander in and borrow a book, but you can still get a taste for London’s first library… alongside the tastes of the subcontinent.
What happened next?
When Westminster Public Library opened in 1857, many assumed that it would be the first of many in the capital. Alas, apart from the small branch library in Knightsbridge, no new libraries opened in London until 1885, when Wandsworth joined the limited club4. To recast that gap into an arbitrary pop-cultural context, it’s like the interval between The Beatles’ Abbey Road, and Radiohead’s OK Computer. An eternity.
More libraries would follow in 1887, the year of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee. Thereafter the pace quickened as philanthropists such as Andrew Carnegie, John Passmore Edwards and Henry Tate funnelled their wealth into public libraries. These gentlemen’s names can still be seen on the facades of the buildings they funded, across London and elsewhere. Sadly, many have since closed.
Over the decades, London’s stock of public libraries grew until almost every community had one within walking distance. Among their number are some of the capital’s most striking buildings, such as the libraries at Swiss Cottage, Fulwell Cross, Canada Water and Peckham.
Sadly, we find ourselves in an era of library decline. A squeeze on finances has seen many London Boroughs shorten opening hours or close branches altogether. Perhaps we need another figure like William Ewart; a person prepared to bend their whole career towards ensuring that libraries thrive. Or perhaps it’s beholden on us all to renew our love affair with libraries and visit more often. Either way, next time you’re passing through Westminster, duck round the corner next to the Abbey and pay your respects to the site of London’s first public library.
Thanks for reading. As ever, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below. Or email me any time on matt@londonist.com.
There’s plenty of scope for whataboutery here. The London Library, for example, opened in 1841 and was, in theory, available to all. However, it imposed an annual subscription, which limited its use to the well-heeled. Meanwhile, various philanthropic ventures provided free access to books before the 1850 Act. However, the type of library we’re considering here is one that conforms to a modern understanding of the term: a publicly funded library open and free for all.
Mechanics institutions were in some ways the forerunners of public libraries. Many did contain small book collections which the public might access, but these were targeted at specific trades rather than the general populace.
Parishes and vestries were the most common form of local government before the advent of Metropolitan Boroughs.
The library at Richmond opened in 1881. This is now part of Greater London, but was firmly in Surrey at the time. Thanks to Simon Fowler for this tip.
Absolutely fascinating information. Really interesting details. I’m a recently retired teacher librarian and live in Sydney, Australia. Visiting London again next year and will have to have a look. Luckily libraries in Australia are still thriving, particularly amongst young people l.
Opened just a few months before the Reading Room at the British Museum I think. I recall reading that one of the reasons that public libraries were so popular when they opened was that they were one of the few places where you could get shelter/warmth without having to buy anything or pay to enter. Still performing that role today...