The Story of Ladybird Books
- David Salariya
- 6 days ago
- 17 min read
Before apps, algorithms, or phonics flashcards, there was Ladybird. Small, hardback, and proudly British, these beautifully illustrated books taught generations of children how to read - and how to understand the world. From wartime thrift to educational empire (with a detour into bestselling satire), Ladybird’s legacy is as colourful and curious as its covers.
There’s something oddly fortunate about being born in the right place at the right time, and for me, Dundee in1954 was just that, which places me in early Boomerdom, and so in the thick of Cold War optimism, British post-austerity ambition, with a strong schooling in stoicism. Dundee, famous for jute, jam and journalism, a city perched on the edge of the Tay, bruised by the war but full of industry. It was a place and time where children roamed with near-ferrall freedom, where adults still smoked on the busses and in the streets, where Saturday mornings might be spent with comics, pencils in hand, imagining yourself inside them...and of course this being Scotland in the 1950's Sunday was given over to church in the morning and more misery in afternoon "a run" which didn't actually mean "a run" but going out in the car to the countryside or somewhere like Perth or St Andrews where I was convinced that nothing ever happened or ever would, shop windows were covered with yellow cellophane, presumably to avoid damage from the sun - but this was Scotland - not the bay of Naples...and then Cliff Adam's "sing something simple" on the radio on the way home...music that wasn't really music. It was the mood. The tone. The peculiar emotional residue of a Britain that never quite was, but always felt like a slightly repressed.
We weren’t quite modern, but we weren’t Victorian either. Our world was still ration-shaped, sooty and definitely a world made in tones of grey, from drab to lead but a little less grey than it had been for our parents. And into this world and my early hands came the Ladybird books.
Small, hard backed, bright and beautifully illustrated, Ladybird books were more than just reading material. They were a kind of promise. A portal. A way of seeing the world that was tidy, optimistic, educational, and strangely organised.
I didn’t know it then, but these books were doing more than telling me about how the body worked or how trains moved or history was made. They were showing me that information was interesting and easy to understand. That the world was made of systems and sequences and careful drawings. That illustration, which would one day become a great part of my life, had a powerful role to play in how children understood the world.
Being born in 1954 in Dundee meant being part of a generation raised on visual storytelling. Between The Beano from just down the road and the Ladybird Books, they were in classrooms and bedrooms across Britain, I was growing up in a golden age of the printed imagination and of course Look & Learn which came later and then the amazing art from the artists of TV21.
Our school desks had inkwells. Our televisions had just one channel in black and white of course. But our books, our books were mostly in libraries or you were given one as a Sunday School prize usually a classic for basically just turning up.
Ladybird books weren't flashy, but they were quietly revolutionary.
And that’s what I want to explore in this blog:
what Ladybird meant
what it did for children like me
and why its legacy is still worth talking about today, especially when so much visual learning is now screen-based, animated, or flattened into algorithmically curated trivia.
Ladybird books shaped a generation raised between ration books and rocket launches. And I was one of the lucky ones to be there when it mattered.
Ladybird Books taught generations of British children to read, but the story behind the iconic red-and-black insect is richer, and stranger, than you might think. From wartime printing workaround to educational empire and then to bestselling adult parody, here’s the full pulped History.
Ladybird Books on the Rack
As a five-year-old, I believed Ladybird Books were everywhere. You’d spot them spinning on a revolving rack in the post office, or tucked beside the comics and the penny tray at the newsagent’s. (A penny tray, for the uninitiated, held sweets like liquorice pipes, candy cigarettes, McGowan’s Toffee Bars, Black Jacks, Fruit Salads, gobstoppers and bubble gum... but back to the books.)
Each Ladybird book was perfectly sized for a small hand: always 56 pages, always hardback with a dust jacket, endpapers, and always bearing the friendly, unmistakable ladybird logo inside.
There seemed to be an endless supply: Shopping with Mother, The Fireman, The Story of the Motor Car, Cinderella, titles as reassuringly consistent as the books themselves.
Ladybird wasn’t just a publisher; it was a system. A brand so ubiquitous, it became part of the visual language of my 1950s childhood, alongside now-vanished words: florin, shilling, sixpence, threepence, farthing, halfpenny, ten bob note, crown, half-crown, guinea. Ladybird books cost 2/6 (two shillings and sixpence) well into the 1970s.
An Adventure from History
The Ladybird books I loved most were An Adventure from History, (series 561) In hindsight, perhaps not the most accurate title, most adventures involved a lot of illness, being martyred, or stoicism in facing the end...whether in a blizzard, a tent or the axe - It wasn't all swords and suffering though.
The first title, King Alfred the Great, came out in 1956, two years after I did, though possibly to better reviews. The formula was gloriously rigid: a slab of text on the left, a full-page illustration on the right undeniably simple and powerful.
Each volume presented a picture-book biography for ages 7–11, the tone firmly set to “noble deeds and derring-do.” Explorers, monarchs, reformers, the usual titans of national myth and certainly makes many references to the Great British Empire.
L. du Garde Peach, the author, (was certainly a name I was convinced was a pen-name) described the books as stories of “great things done”, though to whom these things were done was sometimes glossed over. Cromwell get a glowing write up, King Charles I didn't fare so well..."King Charles was a very stupid man".
Peach obviously adored Oliver Cromwell
Oliver Cromwell was a brave man, as well as being a great one. He had always charged with his men, in battles in the civil war. Now, with many enemies who wished nothing better than to kill him, he moved freely about the country. He believed that God would always protect him.
Attempts were made to assasinate him. They always failed, and their failure strengthened Cromwell in his faith. God had work for him to do, and it must be fulfilled.
Cromwell was always a good man. He was deeply religious, and neither greedy not- except in Ireland - cruel. he was a good father to his children and a friend to all honest men.
it is a blot on the history of the country that when Charles II returned, Cromwell's body was taken from the tomb and his head set upon a pike for all to see. It was a mean and unworthy revenge on the part of those whom had beaten in a fair fight, whose country he had preserved from tyranny and whose freedom he had ensured.
From Wartime Thrift to Classroom Staple
So how did a sideline of a Loughborough printing firm become one of the most recognisable children’s publishing brands in Britain?
Ladybird began as a pragmatic offshoot of Wills & Hepworth, who published their first children’s titles during WWI. In 1940, with paper rationed, they struck gold: a 56-page book format printed from a single sheet of paper. Bunnikin’s Picnic Party launched the wartime line, sturdy, economical, and comforting.
The man who transformed Ladybird post-war was Douglas Keen - a salesman turned editor who believed information books could be beautifully illustrated and deeply engaging. His titles sold by the million. Keen worked from a small extension on his Stratford-upon-Avon home. By 1973, Ladybird was selling 20 million books a year.
House Style and Invisible Hands
Ladybird’s creative team were largely anonymous. Writers and illustrators worked for flat fees, without royalties. John Kenney (who illustrated the Adventures in History titles), Harry Wingfield, Martin Aitchison, John Berry and others painted a Britain that was white, polite, and suburban - an idealised mirror of post-war aspirations.
Writers William Murray and Vera Southgate pioneered educational schemes like the Key Words with Peter and Jane, blending teaching rigour with simplicity and visual clarity.
Only recently, through archivists like Helen Day, have these unsung contributors received wider recognition.
Decline and Rebranding
In the 1980s, Ladybird faltered. Changing ideas and style in education and the rise of licensed TV and film characters along with desktop publishing where illustrations and text could be integrated made the Ladybird books look old-fashioned. The company was sold to Penguin’s parent, Pearson, in 1972 and Douglas Keen retired soon afterwards.
By the 1990s, Ladybird books had laminated covers, cartoonish art, and declining coherence. The Loughborough plant closed in 1998. Yet nostalgia endured, quietly.
Revival and Reinvention
How Spoof Ladybird Books Took Flight: From Satire to Sales Boom
2014: The Provocateur Appears
In early 2014, artist and comedian Miriam Elia self published We Go to the Gallery, a razor-sharp parody of 1960s Ladybird books. The book follows Mummy, Peter and Jane as they visit a modern art gallery, confronting the absurdities and anxieties of contemporary conceptual art. The art works look as if they might be based on Tracey Emin, Jeff Koons, and nihilist philosophy, all rendered in lovingly recreated vintage Ladybird style.
The project was both homage and satire, a cheeky tribute to the visual language of Ladybird combined with a pointed critique of the modern art world.
But the publisher Penguin, which owned the Ladybird imprint, were not amused.
Copyright Clash
Elia’s self-funded run of 1,000 books drew legal threats from Penguin, who claimed infringement of both copyright and trademark. While Penguin allowed Elia a grace period to sell remaining stock, they warned of potential legal action and destruction of remaining copies if she continued.
Elia, trained at the Royal College of Art and known for her BBC Radio 4 comedy, had painted the illustrations herself, some as direct pastiches, others as collage. She described the project as “a loving parody” and a comment on both art and education. Penguin, while acknowledging her artistic intent, stood firm on brand protection.
Cultural Impact
This episode sparked debate around artistic freedom, parody, and corporate control of nostalgia. It gained Elia a cult following and media attention, and, arguably, paved the way for Penguin’s own pivot.
2015 - 2016: Penguin Capitalises on the Spoof Boom
Just a year later, in 2015, Penguin released its own official parody line: Ladybird Books for Grown-Ups. These were strikingly similar in concept, repurposing classic-style Ladybird illustrations to deliver deadpan, ironic takes on adult life, with titles like The Hangover, The Mid-Life Crisis, and How It Works: The Wife.
Written by Jason Hazeley and Joel Morris, the series became an unexpected commercial hit. Over 4 million copieswere sold within a year, generating £30 million in revenue. The series became a publishing phenomenon, and a reminder that spoofing childhood icons could be very profitable indeed.
Legacy and Irony
The irony wasn’t lost on Elia and her supporters: the same publisher that had tried to shut her down had now found enormous success with a concept she’d pioneered. Yet her version was arguably sharper, more politically pointed, and more artistically daring.
Elia later reissued We Go to the Gallery through her own Dung Beetle Books, a satirical imprint. The book became the first in a series spoofing both educational formats and cultural institutions (We Learn at Home, We Go Out, etc.), maintaining her subversive style.
In Summary: The Spoof Timeline
2014 – We Go to the Gallery published by Miriam Elia (private print run). Legal challenge from Penguin.
2015 – Penguin releases Ladybird Books for Grown-Ups, with official blessing, huge sales.
2016–present – Elia continues independently with Dung Beetle Books. Penguin launches Ladybird Expert Seriesfor adults (serious nonfiction in the old style).
Now – Both parody and prestige titles coexist, showing how a cherished children's brand can be repurposed - sometimes reverently, sometimes satirically - for an entirely different audience.
The Ladybird Books for Grown-Ups spoofed the 1960s style with ironic titles like The Hangover and The Mid-Life Crisis. They sold 4 million copies and generated over £30 million.
This was followed by the Ladybird Expert Series, primers on climate change, AI, and more, written by academics but illustrated in the old style.
Meanwhile, facsimile editions of classics were reprinted, and the University of Reading opened a permanent Ladybird Gallery housing over 20,000 original artworks.
The Wings of a Legacy
Ladybird’s story is a publishing parable: wartime thrift meets artistic vision meets corporate evolution. It gave millions of children a way into reading, small, colourful books that felt like treasures.
It also exemplified the tensions in publishing: between creative labour and corporate control. Writers and illustrators worked for hire, their names hidden, their art owned by the brand.
Today, Ladybird continues, producing preschool content, learning schemes, and gift books. The original hardbacks may be gone from post office spinners, but the logo, and the affection it inspires, endures.
Just the Way Things Were: Creative Work for Hire
When I started as a freelancer, it never occurred to me to ask about royalties. That wasn’t how the system worked. Publishers commissioned books to spec. Writers and illustrators delivered, got paid, and moved on.
Ladybird epitomised this model: flat fees, no residuals. But within that framework, they treated contributors with care. They returned original artwork They gave clear briefs and timely payments. It wasn’t exploitation - it was industrial logic.
Today, the publishing world is more fluid, but work-for-hire remains the norm in educational and licensed publishing. What’s changed is the conversation. We now acknowledge that credit matters, that legacy is built on recognition as much as royalties.
Ladybird’s wings may be corporate now, but they still carry generations of readers, and creators, with them.
Ladybird Adventures from History: Complete Chronological Catalogue
1956 – King Alfred the Great - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney– William the Conqueror - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1957– Sir Walter Raleigh - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney– The Story of Nelson - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1958– The Story of the First Queen Elizabeth - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney– The Story of Captain Cook - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1959– Florence Nightingale - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney– Julius Caesar and Roman Britain - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1960– The Story of Charles II - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney– David Livingstone - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1961– Stone Age Man in Britain - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney– Christopher Columbus - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1962– Marco Polo - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
The Story of Henry V - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1963– Oliver Cromwell - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney– Captain Scott - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney – Alexander the Great - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1964 – Robert the Bruce - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1965– Richard the Lion Heart - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney– Charles Dickens - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1966– Warwick the Kingmaker - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney– Cleopatra and Ancient Egypt - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1967– James I and the Gunpowder Plot - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1968 – Kings and Queens of England: Book 1 - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by Frank Hampson– Kings and Queens of England: Book 2 - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by Frank Hampson – The Story of Napoleon - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1969 – King John and Magna Carta - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1971 – Joan of Arc - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1972– The Pilgrim Fathers - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by John Kenney
1973– Elizabeth Fry - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by Roger Hall– Great Civilisations: Egypt - Written by E. J. Shaw; Illustrated by Jorge Núñez– Henry VIII — Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by Frank Humphris– Henry II and Thomas Becket - Written by John Roberts; Illustrated by Roger Hall
1974– Great Civilisations: Greece - Written by Clarence Greig; Illustrated by Jorge Núñez– Great Civilisations: Rome - Written by Clarence Greig; Illustrated by Jorge Núñez– Samuel Pepys - Written by Nicholas Abbott; Illustrated by Roger Hall – Hannibal - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by Frank Humphris
1975 – Robert Louis Stevenson - Written by Barbara Brill; Illustrated by Roger Hall – Bonnie Prince Charlie - Written by L. du Garde Peach; Illustrated by Roger Hall
1976– Great Civilisations: Crete - Written by Clarence Greig; Illustrated by Jorge Núñez– Great Civilisations: The Vikings - Written by Brenda Ralph-Lewis; Illustrated by Ronald Jackson– Queen Victoria - Written by J. R. C. Yglesias; Illustrated by Roger Hall
1977– Sir Francis Drake - Written by Edyth Harper; Illustrated by Frank Humphris– John Wesley - Written by Joan A. Vickers; Illustrated by Ronald Jackson– Elizabeth Gaskell — Written by Barbara Brill; Illustrated by Roger Hall
1978 – Great Civilisations: The Mycenaeans - Written by Clarence Greig; Illustrated by David Palmer– Great Civilisations: The Incas - Written by Brenda Ralph-Lewis; Illustrated by Jorge Núñez – Great Civilisations: The Aztecs - Written by Brenda Ralph-Lewis; Illustrated by Robert Ayton – Great Civilisations: China - Written by Ian A. Morrison; Illustrated by Annie Bennett
1981– William Shakespeare - Written by Geoffrey Earle; Illustrated by Roger Hall
Soon came the Ladybird Expert Series - real subject primers for adults (on climate change, genetics, AI) written by academics and illustrated in the old style.
Ladybird Expert Series Titles
TBA - Exoplanets - Written by Maggie Aderin‑Pocock
TBA - Human Origins - Written by Alice Roberts
2017 - The Battle of Britain - Written by James Holland; Illustrated by Keith Burns
2017 - Climate Change - Written by Prince Charles, Tony Juniper & Emily Shuckburgh; Illustrated by Ruth Palmer
2017 - Evolution - Written by Steve Jones; Illustrated by Rowan Clifford
2017 - Gravity - Written by Jim Al‑Khalili; Illustrated by Jeff Cummins
2017 - Quantum Mechanics - Written by Jim Al‑Khalili; Illustrated by Jeff Cummins & Dan Newman
2017 - The Shackleton Expedition - Written by Ben Saunders; Illustrated by Rowan Clifford
2018 - The Artificial Intelligence - Written by Michael Wooldridge; Illustrated by Stephen Player
2018 - Battle of the Atlantic - Written by James Holland; Illustrated by Keith Burns
2018 - The Battle for Normandy 1944 - Written by James Holland
2018 - Big Bang - Written by Marcus Chown; Illustrated by Chris Moore
2018 - The Blitzkrieg - Written by James Holland; Illustrated by Keith Burns
2018 - Bubbles - Written by Helen Czerski; Illustrated by Chris Moore
2018 - Consciousness - Written by Hannah Critchlow; Illustrated by Stephen Player
2018 - The Desert War - Written by James Holland; Illustrated by Keith Burns
2018 - The Eastern Front 1941-43 - Written by James Holland; Illustrated by Keith Burns
2018 - Genetics - Written by Adam Rutherford; Illustrated by Ruth Palmer2018 – Spanish Armada - Written by Sam Willis; Illustrated by Paul Young
2018 - Timbuktu - Written by Gus Casely‑Hayford; Illustrated by Angelo Rinaldi
2018 - Twentieth-Century Classical Music - Written by Fiona Maddocks; Illustrated by Jeff Cummins
2018 - The War in Burma 1943-44 - Written by James Holland; Illustrated by Keith Burns
2018 - Witchcraft - Written by Suzannah Lipscomb; Illustrated by Martyn Pick
2019 - Æthelflæd: England’s Forgotten Founder - Written by Tom Holland; Illustrated by Colin Shearing
2019 - Armageddon - Written by Joann Fletcher
2019 - Battle of the Nile - Written by Sam Willis; Illustrated by Paul Young
2019 - Battle of Trafalgar - Written by Sam Willis; Illustrated by Paul Young
2019 - Beowulf - Written by Janina Ramirez; Illustrated by Martyn Pick2019 - Homer - Written by Daisy Dunn; Illustrated by Angelo Rinaldi
2019 - Octopuses - Written by Helen Scales; Illustrated by Alan Male
2019 - The Pacific War 1941- 43 - Written by James Holland; Illustrated by Keith Burns
2019 - Plato’s Republic - Written by Angie Hobbs; Illustrated by Angelo Rinaldi
2019 - Victory Against Japan 1944-45 - Written by James Holland; Illustrated by Keith Burns
2019 - Victory in Europe 1944 - 45 - Written by James Holland; Illustrated by Keith Burns
2020 - The Bomber War - Written by James Holland; Illustrated by Keith Burns
2020 - Pain - Written by Irene Tracey; Illustrated by Stephen Player
2021 - The War in Italy - Written by James Holland; Illustrated by Keith Burns
Meanwhile, facsimile editions of classics were reissued for collectors. A permanent Ladybird Gallery was opened at the University of Reading’s Museum of English Rural Life, housing over 20,000 original artworks
Ladybird Titles/Series and Their Sales
Title/Series (Year) | Approximate Sales / Print Run | Notes and Significance |
British Birds and Their Nests (1953) | Initial run sold out; second run of 50,000ordered immediatelyindependent.co.uk | First Ladybird nature book – proved market for factual children’s books. |
Key Words Reading Scheme (1964–1967) | 80–85 million copies sold worldwidetheguardian.comindependent.co.uk | 36-book early reader series (“Peter and Jane”), cornerstone of ’60s reading education. |
Well-Loved Tales fairy tale series (1960s) | Millions (exact figures not recorded; extremely high print runs) | Bestselling retellings of fairy tales (e.g. Cinderella reissued for 2015 centenary) penguin.co.uk. |
How It Works – The Computer (1971) | Used in bulk by UK Ministry of Defence (100+ copies) theguardian.com | Example of Ladybird’s adult uptake – explained new tech in simple terms. |
The Royal Wedding(1981) | 2.25 million copies | Commemorative book (Charles & Diana) – produced in just 5 days, became Ladybird’s all-time fastest seller. |
Ladybird annual sales c.1973 | 20 million per year independent.co.uk | Peak yearly output during golden age (post Key Words, pre-market decline). |
Ladybird Books for Grown-Ups (2015–2016) | Spoof humour series by J. Hazeley & J. Morris – sparked brand revival in 21st century. |
(Sources: as indicated)
The Wings of a Legacy
The Ladybird story is a triumph of elegant design, educational purpose, and low-cost production. It gave generations of children - across class divides - a doorway into reading and learning, with books that felt as if they had been written and illustrated just for them.
For decades, it quietly dominated early childhood education, guided by visionaries like Douglas Keen and powered by the unseen talents of illustrators and writers working to strict briefs and tiny margins.
And yet, the legacy is complicated. Beneath the nostalgic gloss lies a tension familiar to many in educational publishing: the tension between corporate efficiency and creative recognition. Ladybird’s flat-fee model and editorially controlled house style meant its creators often disappeared behind the brand. Their names were inside, not on the cover. Their work - integral to the books’ appeal - was owned entirely by the company.
Today, Ladybird’s vintage titles are museum pieces, art prints, or wry social commentary on mugs and tea towels. But their cultural impact still echoes in classrooms, family bookshelves, and our collective memory. They taught us to read, to name the parts of a steam engine, to spot a kestrel or work out the seasons.
Ladybird didn’t just publish books - it defined a national childhood. And in doing so, it became part of our common story.
Few brands in publishing have managed to span such a broad gamut, from teaching toddlers their first words to giving adults a good laugh - all under one little ladybird logo.
What's Changed - and What Hasn’t
Today’s publishing world is more fragmented. Creators can self-publish, license, brand, or go independent. But even now, much of the educational, mass-market, and licensed children's publishing still relies on a work-for-hire model. Many illustrators still don't see royalties, especially in books tied to TV properties or classroom markets.
Some authors remain on flat fees if the book is deemed “non-trade.”
What’s changed is the conversation around creative labour. There’s now recognition that not all work-for-hire is created equal. That credit matters. That reuse rights should be acknowledged. That a successful book may outlive its budget and that creators shouldn’t vanish from its legacy by removing credits and biographies of consultants, editors, creators, artists and writers.
David Salariya was born in Dundee in 1954, just two years before King Alfred the Great kicked off the Ladybird Adventures from History series, although David's own heroics were mostly confined to drawing, winning a BBC art competition, and surviving a Presbyterian upbringing in a city famous for jute, jam and journalism.
Raised on a diet of the Beano, Sunday School prizes, and the quiet majesty of Ladybird illustrations, he grew up believing that books came in 56-page, hardback portions and that illustrations were a form of national service, He would later spend a career writing, illustrating, designing and commissioning books for young readers.
A recovering publisher, he now writes about children’s books, publishing history, and why it matters who gets credited for what. He remains convinced that Ladybird books shaped not just readers, but a national way of seeing, tidy, visual, and deeply strange under the surface.
He still dreams in endpapers, keeps a fondness for the word "guinea," and believes firmly that the Sunday run (to St Andrews or Perth) was the Scottish equivalent of the Grand Tour - just colder, greyer, but with more barley sugar in your pockets.