Farewell then, WH Smith, a company that has adorned our high streets for over a century – even though it never planned to.
Originating as a modest newspaper stand in Mayfair in 1792, the business experienced significant growth in the mid-19th century, driven by the swift expansion of the railways, which enabled consumers across the nation to access London newspapers within hours of their Fleet Street publication.
At one stage, nearly every major railway station in Britain boasted a Smith's stall selling the Times, the Telegraph and the Illustrated London News, among others, along with a selection of the latest books and magazines. It was a profitable venture.
When the head of the company, William Henry Smith, who later became MP for Westminster, passed away in 1891, he left behind a fortune of £1.8m – approximately £200m in today's terms.
However, as the twentieth century dawned, trouble was brewing. The railway companies, keen to extract more revenue from their operations amid shareholder pressure to increase dividends, dramatically raised rents on station stalls.
The management at WH Smith, who had consistently absorbed rising station rents for years, had reached their limit, as reported by .
Managing partner Charles Hornby penned a blunt letter to the Great Western Railway. Losing all the stalls would represent a "bitter blow", Hornby declared, "but it will be easier to bear than years of unprofitable trading with no hope for the future."
GWR dismissed his concerns and granted Hornby merely 10 weeks to brace the company for the elimination of nearly a third of its national newsagent network.
Undaunted, he devised a strategy and executed it immediately: relocate the station operations to the closest High Street outlet, bringing the workforce along. The scheme succeeded and shortly the business boasted a chain of dozens – eventually hundreds – of High Street premises across the nation.
Wind the clock forward 120 years and Swindon-headquartered WH Smith is returning to its origins. In June the retailer struck an agreement with private equity house Modella to offload its high street division and concentrate on its "travel outlets" – those situated in railway stations and airports.
The high street branches are being renamed TJ Jones, a fabricated moniker with no connection to the newsagent's heritage – crafted, one assumes, to sound more like a family enterprise and less like another private equity-operated behemoth.
This will mark the exit from the high street of Britain's most established major retail marque. Ought this to prompt melancholy?
Many will argue the outlets were tatty, purposeless establishments crammed with Post-it notes, cheap felt-tip pens and dated Jeremy Clarkson books.
But for most Britons – particularly those beyond major urban centres – the high street remains the primary gauge of their sentiments about the nation's condition, something MPs routinely encounter when visiting their constituencies.
Even if they rarely shop locally, residents harbour an idealised vision of how their neighbourhood parade should appear: perhaps a butcher's shop here, a bookshop there, a bakery offering artisan pastries, a Post Office, a Waitrose.
Few areas across the country actually mirror this idealised picture, apart from the occasional affluent enclave such as Hampstead, Holland Park or Henley.
The reality confronting many communities today is a mishmash of vape outlets, gambling establishments, Poundlands, questionable fast-food vendors and the remnants of former Debenhams signage, still awaiting fresh tenants.
A YouGov poll revealed that merely 13 per cent of Britons felt high streets had effectively bounced back from the pandemic, whilst only three per cent strongly believed that high streets are "generally vibrant and busy."
Thriving, visually appealing public areas represent the most direct method of fostering positive community sentiment – far more effectively than any GDP or employment figures.
Yet just as Smith's faced displacement by GWR, elevated business rates and employment levies are driving retailers elsewhere. Perhaps it's time to abandon the high street and surrender ourselves to the mercy of the e-commerce deities.
However, many are not quite ready to capitulate, choosing instead to hold onto our purgatory filled with pound shops in the hope of an impending revival.
The departure of WH Smith from towns and villages won't be lamented on the same scale as Woolworth's, which was cherished by many for its quaint pic-n-mix stands; nor that of Wilko, where you could purchase extremely affordable washing powder. But the loss of another retail mainstay – with a name beginning with W – will render town centres just that bit more dreary.
