When you talk about business, it rarely conjures images of free services in your mind, unless those services are intended to build trust and drive sales—a sort of ‘free cheese in a mousetrap’. However, sometimes free services are offered for the public good. So, could Liverpool, which was one of the first British cities to establish public baths, have once offered free baths? We explore this question further on liverpool1.one.
Public Washhouses and Baths in Liverpool: How Well Did the City Grasp Their Importance?
Cleanliness in Liverpool was almost always taken more seriously than in other cities across the country. Around the 19th century, the issue of establishing public washhouses became a topic of intense discussion. City authorities, along with activists like Kitty Wilkinson, understood just how vital cleanliness was for maintaining public health. Gradually, these institutions began to appear.
Initially, of course, the baths were purely commercial and therefore only accessible to the wealthy. The working class had to settle for bathing in the Mersey during warmer months or perhaps improvising their own methods. But the need for baths for the poor became increasingly evident, leading to some progress in this area. For example, the first so-called ‘people’s bath’ appeared in 1902; this was designed purely for cleansing and did not include a swimming pool.
Baths for the Poor: A Noble Initiative
In the 19th century, hygiene, cleanliness, and, consequently, the health of Liverpool’s poor were at an alarmingly low level. The overcrowded slums of Britain’s Victorian cities faced enormous problems with epidemics. To combat poverty and filth, local parishes began opening public washhouses. These were buildings in poor neighbourhoods where the needy were allowed to wash themselves and their clothes.

The first such facility in Liverpool was most likely the saltwater bath at Pier Head, established in 1828. This refers to George’s Baths (or Pier Head Baths), built by the Liverpool Corporation in 1828 and officially opened on 8 June 1829. The complex featured two plunge baths, segregated for men and women. The total cost of construction was £24,481—a colossal investment at the time.
The peak of public baths and washhouses came in the 1840s. In 1842, for instance, the first public warm-water bath opened on Frederick Street. Soon after, attention turned to the poor, which resulted in the formation of the Association for Promoting Cleanliness amongst the Poor. This led to the emergence of low-cost baths and washhouses accessible to everyone.
Free Baths and Washhouses in Liverpool
It’s quite difficult to state precisely when and where the first free bath appeared in Liverpool, but there are some conjectures.
If we talk about free open-air bathing, facilities for this emerged in the 1890s. We know for certain that such places were established first on Burlington Street (1895) and later on Gower Street (1898).
However, as far back as 1701, local entrepreneur Samuel Done received permission to build a bath near The Pool inlet, which is considered one of the earliest documented swimming pools in Britain. In 1756, a facility offering both salt and fresh water bathing was opened in Liverpool’s old churchyard. Around 1765, John Wright constructed a large pool on the site of what is now Prince’s Dock.
Liverpool’s public baths and washhouses were intended to promote personal hygiene, but they also performed important social and economic functions. Investment in such facilities demonstrated the city’s growth and its concern for residents’ health, while simultaneously enhancing Liverpool’s appeal to visitors.
Naturally, the laws of business dictate that investment should lead to tariffs and payment for services. However, in the 18th and 19th centuries, not everything was measured in money, which is why some baths were created specifically for the poor. Some entrepreneurs invested their own funds for the public good, often with some support from the authorities. There is no doubt that these efforts provided great benefit and ultimately paid off.
