- 1 This theme was particularly evident in Disraeli’s various novels and his focus on social reform whi (...)
1Benjamin Disraeli is often associated with relatively progressive and enlightened views in regards to improving the living standards and housing environments of Victorian society, particularly in Britain’s overcrowded, urban areas.1 In an adjoining dimension of the Disraelian era, a notable development was that sporting activity and its associated leisure culture came to play a more prominent role in everyday life, incorporating many different communities, and evidently flourishing during the broader late Victorian period. This can be explained by the emergence of popular spectator sports such as football becoming increasingly engrained within the national consciousness, and being particularly and initially aligned with working-class culture and various expanding urban environments (Baker 241‒51).
2In terms of integrating such housing and sporting cultural dynamics to the broader Disraelian historical narrative, a chronological beginning for this article is the emergence of professional football, and specifically the foundation of Everton Football Club in 1878 (during Disraeli’s second premiership), initially located in the northern Everton district of the city of Liverpool in what was then the county of Lancashire. This particular sporting dynamic reflected the growing appeal and popularity of football within working-class communities amidst the country’s expanding and industrialised large towns and cities. Having initially played on local fields at a then semi-rural Stanley Park, Everton’s first enclosed structural location for competitive matches was Anfield Football Stadium (built 1884) within the neighbouring residential suburb of Anfield, also located in northern Liverpool. Everton FC would become an original member of the Football League (from 1888), and this foundational date at the tail end of the nineteenth century heralded the beginning of English football’s evolution from an amateur sporting endeavour into an increasingly commercialised industry.
3Yet an early split occurred within this fledgling football club, as in 1892 Everton moved to a new stadium at nearby Goodison Park, with a new team emerging at Anfield; Liverpool Football Club (FC), named eponymously after the city (rather than the district) it derived from. Following this inception of professional and commercialised football during this late nineteenth century period, the Anfield football stadium subsequently evolved as a dominant and enduring geographical landmark, being a significant source of both entertainment and employment over many years, with the surrounding residential district being notable for its swathe of terraced housing that gradually emerged. Most such properties were built during the late nineteenth century, with the football stadium becoming enclosed by such distinctive redbrick houses in all directions. In the contemporary era, within the context of demographic change and growing commercial footballing pressures, there has been repeated and selective demolition of some such housing closest to the football venue to allow for the stadium’s ongoing expansion in spectator capacity.
4Yet how can such housing and cultural developments be linked to the historical legacy of Benjamin Disraeli? Fundamentally, from a distinctive historical perspective that is central to the purposes of this article, within Anfield’s terraced housing of varying sizes, five roads were constructed very close to the football stadium with significant names of notable resonance for Disraeli. Of a late nineteenth century heritage, and of a range of type and sizes, they feature the names Alroy, Coningsby, Sybil, Tancred and Lothair Roads. To the layperson, such names are somewhat innocuous in meaning, but these five roads positioned off Anfield Road adjacent to the stadium, were thematically named after five of Benjamin Disraeli’s novels: The Wondrous Tale of Alroy (1833); Coningsby; or the New Generation (1844); Sybil; or the Two Nations (1845), Tancred; or the New Crusade (1847), and Lothair (1870).
5An initial observation is that such Disraelian connections to this cluster of roads amidst a large northern English city is a notable indication of the scale and extent of Disraeli’s enduring commemorative impact on everyday culture in the UK, lingering from the late Victorian era and right up to the present. The article therefore seeks to provide further insight into this community’s distinctive history and geography, particularly the specific historical context and origins of such road names, as well as how this case study of late Victorian residential housing development can be viewed as a symbolic reflection of Disraeli’s personal (if at times questionable and variable) commitment to Victorian public housing improvements. The context for the thematic names of such roads appearing in this sequence, manner and location has no previously recorded historical research, and in terms of original historiography, the article therefore provides some state-of-the-art focus and analysis about the heritage of this specific urban case study. Indeed, many people from within the Anfield community contacted for these specific research purposes continue to have little or no knowledge of such connections to Disraeli. Largely deriving from the utilisation of qualitative primary and secondary source data, such a case study can be viewed as a recurring theme and example of changing housing needs and ongoing urban renewal that spans historical generations and multiple governments of varying political persuasions. The article subsequently aims to expand upon the particular context of this residential memorialisation of Disraeli’s legacy, while linking into existing historical themes and literature incorporating his dual literary and political career, his ostensible interest in social reform, his Lancashire connections, and the political significance of the timing of the construction of such housing.
6This particular example of Disraelian heritage and lingering influence incorporates Disraeli’s role both as a pivotal politician of his time, but more specifically as a prolific author of a considerable volume of literary work (having written an approximate 27 literary publications between 1826 and 1881). Furthermore, with regards to these ‘twin strands of his career’ Sandra Mayer has remarked that there are evidently ‘close ties between his literary and political ambitions’ (Mayer 282), with many of his novels’ storylines and themes being aligned with Disraeli’s inherent political views and beliefs. It has also been suggested by Mayer that such literary and political interests worked in a concerted harmony towards personal self-advancement, whereby Disraeli ‘harnessed his passions’ for both aspects of his life to promote himself ‘in his quest for the limelight of public attention’ (Mayer 289).
- 2 England’s most deprived areas named as Jaywick and Blackpool, BBC News.
- 3 Anfield project is a role model for UK, Liverpool Echo, 24th June 2008.
7In terms of the specific local geography of this case study, the proximity of such roads to the Anfield football stadium indicates they have been an unerring presence during Liverpool FC’s history and various communal activities. Such housing and residents have therefore been long-term elements of this associated cultural neighbourhood. In recent years, these specific roads have been directly impacted by the area’s decline and subsequent regeneration, aligned with the de-industrialization, de-population and mass unemployment that impacted the city of Liverpool particularly during the 1980s, before the re-development and expansion of the stadium and the wider Anfield area in the early twenty first century. This occurred in the context of the Anfield ward being categorised as the tenth most deprived in England in 2019, a marked decline in status since the Victorian era.2 Indeed, many of these Disraeli-linked houses became neglected and run-down in relation to their original condition, and were consequently refurbished from an empty or derelict state over approximately the past two decades, via a combination of public and private investment, and with some houses designated as ‘affordable’ in partnership with social housing landlords.3
8Some of this regenerative funding derived from Liverpool FC itself, which had been accused by some critics of purchasing local houses to leave as vacant in order to eventually demolish for purposes of stadium expansion (Conn). However, as part of this process of gradual community regeneration, the football ground’s ongoing capacity expansion (to become the fifth largest in England) has subsequently eaten into the Disraelian housing enclave. Within this context, such stadium redevelopment saw Lothair Road completely demolished in recent years (circa 2014‒15, amidst some local community and heritage objections), alongside half of Alroy Road (with the other half remaining to directly face the stadium), although the further three roads remain standing and intact in their entirety to this day (Weston).
9The prevailing football culture of the community has more recently seen large, eye-catching murals of famous contemporary Liverpool footballers painted on the side of gable end walls (covering the sides of all four of the remaining Disraeli roads) (Bona), of what is a densely compact and tight-knit residential area of approximately 80 inhabited properties (both houses and flats) as of 2024 (City of Liverpool Electoral Register 2024). Furthermore, some larger properties have been flexibly converted into use as Airbnb locations for visiting football supporters to stay in when attending Liverpool football matches, or also for the purpose of tourists visiting the wider city area (Airbnb). This represents a further curious connection between this neighbourhood’s Disraelian literary links and the contemporary popular culture of the modern-day footballing community and the many supporters visiting the area.
10The ‘Disraeli roads’ of Anfield, Liverpool, therefore represent a somewhat more obscure and lower-profile reminder of Disraeli’s varied legacy, and they provide a specific example of how certain historical and cultural urban imprints fuse with contemporary everyday life. Given Disraeli’s specific association as a founding figurehead of paternalistic and interventionist ‘One Nation’ Conservatism (Seawright), which justified his ostensible policy interest in improved public housing for all social classes (The Artisans’ and Labourers’ Dwellings Improvement Act of the second Disraeli government, 1875), it is notably symbolic that these roads were named in his memory. Many of his books indeed focused on the bleak social conditions of many heavily populated, working-class districts in the larger towns and cities, with Disraelian literature repeatedly expressed concern about the standard of living and housing conditions during the second half of the nineteenth century amidst his simultaneous political activity. In policy terms this entailed a desire for improved public housing aligned with his specific ‘One Nation’ perspective, which as a long-term variant of Conservatism has been analysed in some depth by various contemporary scholars such as Seawright and Jones, the latter who describes it as ‘a strand of philosophical conservatism which stresses the organic, paternalistic, and pragmatic nature of society, (placing) emphasis on faith in the people . . . as well as concern for their social welfare and the unity of the nation’ (Jones 5). A desire for improved residential conditions was therefore consistent with this emerging ‘One Nation’ demand for enhanced state guidance to instigate greater social harmony via a coherent public housing strategy in the latter Victorian decades.
- 4 Cited at a Wynyard Horticultural Show in 1848, according to Monypenny & Buckle 368.
11Such interventionist tendencies were deemed fairly radical for a Conservative of this particular historical period, with many of Disraeli’s political ilk still philosophically and practically grappling with the extent of state intervention and public expenditure that could be deemed acceptable or permissible within the context of late Victorian Britain. Yet for Disraeli, further public expenditure was an important requirement in narrowing the glaring divisions between rich and poor (although he accepted tolerable socio-economic inequality as part of the natural hierarchical order). This Disraelian viewpoint was specifically outlined in his 1845 novel Sybil: or The Two Nations, when a prominent character describes Victorian Britain as being divided in this polarised way: ‘Two nations: between whom there is no intercourse and no sympathy; who are as ignorant of each other’s habits, thoughts and feelings, as if they were dwellers in different zones, or inhabitants of different planets. . . . The Rich and the Poor’ (Disraeli 65–66). However, Disraeli had more selfish motives for social reform perhaps, namely as a means of protecting the longer-term vested interests and ongoing power of the ruling class to which he belonged. Indeed, in 1848 (when by then a recognised author but a relatively junior politician) he justified the need for a government-driven social reform agenda (particularly incorporating a housing theme) by stating that ‘the palace is not safe when the cottage is not happy’.4 Such comments were in the context of a series of European uprisings that had overthrown various aristocratic and autocratic regimes, and which ultimately served as a warning to the British establishment to avoid the build-up of a festering revolutionary environment stemming from deep-rooted poverty and poor living conditions, alongside elements of the ruling class being resistant to political reform.
12Disraeli was however personally sympathetic to various reformist demands of the nineteenth century Chartist movement, and he helped to steer through Parliament one of its key demands of franchise extension via the Second Reform Act of 1867, viewing himself as being part of a paternalistic and aristocratic political vanguard, that ‘was justified in its social duties as well as its privileges . . . (providing) satisfactory leadership for the struggling people’ (S. Smith xvi). Within this context of ‘enlightened’ leadership, his short-lived first administration had introduced the Artisans’ and Labourers’ Dwellings Act (1868), while his government of 1874‒80 passed more significant legislation such as the 1875 Artisans’ and Labourers’ Dwellings Improvement Act (alongside other social reforms), which sought more substantial improvement in the quality of public housing. In 1875 Disraeli proudly declared in parliamentary debate that due to such social reform ‘many millions of money will have been invested with the view of carrying out the purposes of that Bill . . . which will have a speedy effect in improving the habitations of the artisans of this great City (and others)’ (Hansard 652‒79).
13Following such evidently thematic social legislation being enacted, notable slum clearance and purchase and development of vacant land ensued, and housebuilding schemes (of improved quality and standards) occurred in various large cities across the country, most notably in Birmingham under the municipal mayoralty of Joseph Chamberlain. However, some observers and scholars have been more cautious in their analysis and judgement of the sincerity of this Disraelian policy sphere and how committed he was to it. For example, Martin Pugh has argued that Disraeli ‘came to office with no precise social policy’ and that such an ostensibly ‘radical’ housing policy was actually only ‘permissive in character, allowing municipalities to demolish slum housing more easily but not obliging them to replace it’ (Pugh 59), while the housing that emerged was not always affordable to the poorer social classes (see Table Two). Indeed, the driving force behind much of this legislation was said to be Disraeli’s Home Secretary R. A. Cross, which has culminated in subsequent historians and academics from differing generations such as Robert Blake and Paul Smith engaging in historiographical debate along the premise that Disraeli was not in fact such a committed social reformer; allegedly taking limited interest in the practical details of such policy-making, and delegating the critical detail to others.
14In the further context of acknowledging specific Disraelian links to the Liverpool area, it has been earlier noted that before the formation of the new metropolitan Merseyside County Council in 1974, Liverpool was traditionally part of the historic county of Lancashire. There was also a notable connection and affinity between Benjamin Disraeli and this region, namely in the form of his personal and political connections to the aristocratic Derby family, having served in prominent Cabinet roles under the Earl of Derby’s second premiership in 1858‒59, and also in the third government that the Earl led as Conservative Prime Minister between 1866‒68. Such significant Cabinet experience placed Disraeli in the ascendant position to eventually become Prime Minister in his own right in 1868, and then for a longer second term from 1874. The stately residence of Lord Derby was historically located at Knowsley Hall, Knowsley (remaining so to this day) (History-Knowsley Estate), within a more rural part of Lancashire that morphed into the fledgling Merseyside County in the 1970s, subsequently becoming part of the more urbanised metropolitan borough of Knowsley. Given such Lancastrian cultural heritage, this enforced regional recalibration created a shifting local identity, being resisted by many Lancastrians some fifty years ago (and the mood still lingers in some cases).
15Within this specific historical context therefore, there did at one time exist a specific historic variant of ‘Lancashire Conservatism’, often associated with the Derby name, and being a distinctive regional political hub with its own concerns, interests and an underlying paternalistic ethos (Jones 5). Such regional affiliation with Disraeli can therefore be viewed as significant, and this more paternalistic style of Lancashire Conservatism aligned with his own personal perspective, which was a notable element in resilient Conservative political support within this county during this time of early democratic evolution. Indeed, Peter Clarke has significantly observed that the underlying tendencies that ‘reinforced the Conservatism of Lancashire in the later nineteenth century had their fullest play in Liverpool’ (Clarke 45). This residual political tradition became an arguably vital component in maintaining political strength within the context of further franchise extension via the Third Reform Act of 1884. Subsequently, the wider western Lancashire (pre-Merseyside) area during this late nineteenth century was Conservative-dominated in political terms. This was particularly reflected in the city of Liverpool itself, when at the successive 1886, 1892, 1895 and 1900 general elections, 7 of the 9 city of Liverpool parliamentary seats repeatedly returned Conservative MPs. However, such solid political strength now seems an anachronistic historical footnote that has been subsequently eroded over the decades, with more contemporary Conservative fortunes markedly less popular in various northern working-class cities in comparison to late Victorian times (albeit then with a reduced franchise).
16A prominent social and political group to emerge during the late Victorian era, and which was active within local Conservative Associations, was the Primrose League (established in 1883 in the aftermath of Disraeli’s recent death in 1881) (The Primrose League). Named after Disraeli’s favourite flower, by the early 1890s this internal Conservative grouping reportedly had over a million members (Seldon and Snowdon 211), and by 1910 as many as two million (Pugh 50). It was notable for its progressive outlook in advocating an equal role for women, who did not have full voting rights until after World War One (Maguire chapter 2). The Primrose League was certainly active across the Lancashire and Liverpool areas, playing a key electoral campaigning role for the Conservatives and contributing to strong parliamentary and council representation within the region. It also helped to create a positive and unifying cross-class image that Disraeli would have endorsed, and which ‘comfortably embraced the Conservative view of social unity’ (Pugh 51), rather than emerging class-based divisions.
17Such thriving organisational activity was therefore an important variable in why the Conservative Party remained strong within working-class communities in areas like Lancashire in the late nineteenth century, and specifically in this case, expanding and industrialised northern cities such as Liverpool. Aligned with the values of Protestant working-class culture, Conservatism consequently retained deep roots, influence and a significant political base in such populous areas. The Primrose League consequently had an organisational purpose that ‘permeated the daily lives of their members’ via a form of ‘social integration’ (Pugh 16). Its activities have also been noted as being a significant factor in the development and widening of Disraeli’s enduring and iconic image within the broader public consciousness, long beyond him ceasing to be Prime Minister in 1880, and way after his death in 1881. On this basis, the foundation of the Primrose League was a significant moment in catalysing the ‘memorialisation and myth-making essential to creating a political idol’ (Jones 4).
18However, even prior to the Primrose League, Lancashire Conservative political icons from this historical era were being symbolically erected across the Lancashire region in memorial statue form. This material culture had been initially evident with the construction of a Robert Peel statue in his birthplace of Bury in 1852, and Liverpool City Council approving the building of a statue of the Earl of Derby in 1867 (Liverpool City Council meeting minutes, 9 November 1867), which then resided within the Neoclassical St George’s Hall (which opened in 1854) (St George’s Hall Liverpool). Various Disraeli statues subsequently also appeared, specifically in 1883 when a statue of Lord Beaconsfield (Disraeli) was unveiled in Liverpool (Liverpool Monuments Website), partly funded by local Conservatives (The Victorian Web) and initiated by the city council via a ‘Beaconsfield Memorial Fund’ (Liverpool City Council meeting minutes 6 July 1881, 255 and 4 January 1882, 78), while a year later in 1884, a similar Disraeli statue was unveiled by the Earl of Lathom in Ormskirk town centre (Ormskirk Historical Society), notably funded by the Primrose League (Anonymous, Southport Visitor), and a further Disraeli memorial followed in Chorley in 1886. Such Lancastrian statues certainly raised Disraeli’s profile even further, and were said to be ‘a focus point for the annual “Primrose Day” celebrations commemorating their fallen hero’s death well into the interwar period’ (Jones 4). Disraeli himself would often pose for the multitude of paintings and statues that appeared of him during this late nineteenth century period, and once remarked: ‘I particularly dislike sitting for my portrait for it is always a long affair . . . but I am unwilling to appear ungracious when I am honoured by a flattering proposal’ (Disraeli 1869). Consequently, given this cultural trend of memorialising and honouring key political figures, and specifically regarding the considerable number of paintings and statues of Disraeli commissioned during this era, the naming of these roads adjacent to Anfield football stadium in tribute to various Disraeli novels was entirely consistent with the commemorative mood of this late Victorian historical period.
19The founder of Liverpool FC (in 1892), John Houlding, was a local businessman who became Conservative Lord Mayor of Liverpool (1897‒98) while being also active in the Protestant Orange Order, and he represented a visible consolidation of links between political and footballing cultures (Roberts 67‒68). Houlding was previously involved with Everton FC and was central to the dispute that saw the split between the clubs in the early 1890s (Kennedy). According to some scholars, it was due to this legacy that Liverpool was traditionally seen as the Protestant football club within the city, with Everton the Catholic team, and each initially aligned their supporter base accordingly (Roberts 257). Houlding’s long-standing connections to the Conservative Party highlighted a further variable regarding the parochial commemoration of Disraeli, reflecting the fact that Liverpool City council was Conservative-run and dominated during this late Victorian period (Jeffery 2023a). There were therefore evidently various related elements during the late nineteenth century that can be seen to align the imprint of Disraeli, his iconic legacy, and his particular brand of Victorian Conservatism with both the political and urban development of the city of Liverpool, its specific parochial dynamics, and also the broader politics of the wider Lancashire hinterland.
20The subsequent relative decline of Lancashire Conservatism over the course of the twentieth century can be explained by various demographic changing trends, the further widening of the vote (notably to working-class men and women after World War One), growing north-south regional divisions, and the establishment of a nationally organised Labour Party from 1900. The declining significance of the Protestant religion as a factor in Conservative urban political support should also be noted, being often culturally aligned with sectarian Conservative-voting habits in large cities like Liverpool (Roberts). In the later part of the century, such Conservative political heritage was further eroded by the impact of Margaret Thatcher and her more individualistic and polarising New Right ideology (Williams), which destabilized the historical cross-class equilibrium of Disraelian One Nation Conservatism. Therefore, from a position of evident strength and hegemony in the late Victorian era, contemporary Conservative fortunes in the wider Merseyside (and former Lancashire) region suffered notable decline in electoral terms over ensuing decades, particularly in the latter decades of the twentieth century when Liverpool became a prominent Labour Party stronghold in parliamentary terms, although this process of Conservative decline has some more recent and localised causes also (Jeffery 2023b).
21The Anfield community (as part of the broader Walton area) was recorded as being incorporated into the expanding Liverpool city boundaries (in the northern direction) during the mid-1830s. Consequently, a housing programme to build on the significant amount of vacant land in the area was identified by the city council as a priority, commencing from the 1850s onwards. The broader need for improved public health and housing (notably for the poorer social classes) has already been linked to Disraeli’s political outlook identified amidst his various writings and speeches. However, more specifically at a localised and parochial level, the city of Liverpool faced pressing demographic demands of its own at this time, particularly due to the ‘intense pressures put upon Liverpool’s stock of housing by the Irish immigration in the late 1840s’ (Metcalfe 136).
22The aftermath of the cataclysmic Irish famine of the 1840s brought an influx of poorer immigrants into Liverpool from across the Irish Sea, placing further strains on the city’s infrastructure and housing capacity, which further inflated a population that was already growing rapidly due to the impact and legacy of the industrial revolution. While many passed through to other places, approximately 35,000 new Irish immigrants remained and settled within Liverpool’s boundaries (Big Liverpool guide), consolidating an existing Irish-born population of just under 50,000. Consequently by 1871, an estimated 15% of the city’s growing population were Irish-born (Kelly). The second Disraeli government’s previously mentioned Artisans’ and Labourers’ Dwellings and Improvement Act of 1875 was notably aimed at such large cities where poor quality housing was common and concentrated. The Chief Medical Officer of Liverpool at this time, W. S. Trench, identified the importance of this legislation in tackling the ‘chief evils’ that were ‘badly constructed courts, cellars or underground habitations, and back-to-back houses in streets’ (Trench).
23Such heightened demand for housing was reflected in the notable upsurge of house-building in the city during this approximate period, although its impact was somewhat delayed in nature and featured ‘a notable lack of response early on’ (Metcalfe 136) regarding the Irish influx, but with a marked increase from the mid-1850s onwards (see Table 1).
- 5 Adapted from Metcalfe 136.
Table 1—Number of Houses Erected Annually in the Borough of Liverpool, 1850‒755
1850
|
420
|
1855
|
1355
|
1860
|
1549
|
1865
|
1496
|
1870
|
1241
|
1875
|
1495
|
24Within the particular context of such housing development for social and demographic purposes and improved public health, it was also noted that a relatively small amount (14%) of these newly-built properties were classified as being for low rental (due to the need for builders to make commercial profit) (Metcalfe 136‒37). Indeed, while of clearly improved quality for wider public consumption, the style and cost of much of the Anfield housing was primarily aimed towards more middle-class and/or skilled artisan lifestyles of the time, particularly those with more stable incomes, and this was evident in the immediate years following completion of construction (see Table 2).
- 6 Source: Gore’s Liverpool Directories 1885.
Table 2—Occupations of Residents of the Disraeli Roads (1885)6
Occupation
|
Alroy Road
|
Coningsby Road
|
Lothair Road
|
Sybil Road
|
Tancred Road
|
Total
|
Book-keeper
|
3
|
1
|
5
|
3
|
4
|
16
|
Engineer
|
|
3
|
2
|
5
|
4
|
14
|
Builder
|
2
|
|
2
|
1
|
1
|
6
|
Master Mariner
|
1
|
|
2
|
1
|
2
|
6
|
Warehouseman
|
|
1
|
1
|
2
|
1
|
5
|
Purser
|
1
|
1
|
1
|
|
|
3
|
Teacher/schoolmaster
|
|
|
2
|
|
1
|
3
|
Cashier
|
|
|
1
|
|
1
|
2
|
Commission Agent
|
|
1
|
|
1
|
|
2
|
Estate Agent
|
1
|
|
|
|
1
|
2
|
HM Customs Officer
|
1
|
|
|
1
|
|
2
|
Joiner
|
2
|
|
|
|
|
2
|
Manager
|
|
1
|
1
|
|
|
2
|
Pawnbroker
|
|
|
1
|
|
1
|
2
|
Police Officer
|
|
|
1
|
1
|
|
2
|
Reverend
|
|
|
2
|
|
|
2
|
Ships’ steward
|
2
|
|
|
|
|
2
|
Tailor
|
1
|
|
|
|
1
|
2
|
Accountant
|
|
|
|
1
|
|
1
|
Agent
|
1
|
|
|
|
|
1
|
Banker’s clerk
|
|
1
|
|
|
|
1
|
Brewer
|
|
|
|
|
1
|
1
|
Builder’s Merchant
|
|
|
1
|
|
|
1
|
Commercial Traveller
|
|
|
|
|
1
|
1
|
Cowkeeper
|
|
|
1
|
|
|
1
|
Engraver
|
|
|
|
1
|
|
1
|
Grocer
|
1
|
|
|
|
|
1
|
Mariner
|
1
|
|
|
|
|
1
|
Master carter/wheelwright
|
1
|
|
|
|
|
1
|
Medical dispenser
|
|
1
|
|
|
|
1
|
Mining Agent
|
|
|
|
|
1
|
1
|
Pilot
|
|
|
1
|
|
|
1
|
Printer
|
|
|
1
|
|
|
1
|
Provision Merchant
|
|
|
|
1
|
|
1
|
Salesman
|
1
|
|
|
|
|
1
|
Shipbuilder
|
|
1
|
|
|
|
1
|
Shipwright
|
|
|
1
|
|
|
1
|
Soap Manufacturer
|
|
|
1
|
|
|
1
|
Warehouse keeper
|
|
|
|
1
|
|
1
|
Watchmaker
|
|
|
|
|
1
|
1
|
25Such modern and better-quality housing therefore did not immediately improve the housing prospects for the poorest Victorian citizens, which as Table Two indicates generally demanded a steady income and/or a skilled occupation (artisan) to inhabit an entire property. The sub-letting of such larger houses into separate rooms would later gradually occur to meet the needs of the poorer social classes, and according to Metcalfe this localised lack of affordability meant that the emergence of ‘apartment dwellings and sub-letting on a large scale were inevitable’ (Metcalfe 137). Many poorer families would consequently be crammed into multi-occupied properties (in later years physically split into flats). Therefore, this development of the privately built Disraeli-themed quintet of terraced roads in Anfield did not adequately address core public housing pressures that rose further in subsequent years, with this era being a less satisfactory or secure living environment for the poor compared to more ‘civilised’ and heavily subsidised (by the state) family-sized council housing programmes of the early twentieth century onwards (Metcalfe 137). However, such ‘statist’ housing programmes were seen as a step too far amidst this more economically austere and conservative period.
26Within such broader city-wide housing trends and context of this approximate period, we have therefore highlighted a further example of the cultivation of Disraeli’s memorial legacy in the form of the Anfield roads being enshrined with his literary titles, and we can attempt to make a specific and fairly accurate estimation of the precise date that such properties were built, based on a number of public records. The Disraeli-themed roads are not present on a city council map of 1872 (Borough of Liverpool, Plan of Liverpool, Proposed Railways 1872), but they are visible (at least laid out) on an 1880 city council map (Borough of Liverpool, Proceedings of the Council 1880‒1881, Philip’s Plan of Liverpool 1880), and also on an 1890 Ordnance survey map for the area (Liverpool Ordnance Survey map). They are also listed on the 1885 electoral register (City of Liverpool electoral register 1885) (evident in Table Two) following that year’s Redistribution of Seats Act, indicating inhabitants living there within the new constituency of Liverpool Walton that incorporated this specific area, and which was then a solid Conservative seat. This creates a window of likely construction, and a further search of the Gore’s Liverpool Directories marks those roads as being present in 1878, while the previous edition of 1877 only lists Tancred Road (Gore’s Liverpool Directories 1877 and 1878), which strongly suggests that as a grouping they would have been laid out and under sequential construction in those particular years.
27A subsequent review of the 1881 Census (Liverpool Census 1881) for Sybil Road shows residents listed there, although based on another map from the period, only half of this road is visible in 1883, and this road appears to have only been completed in full in approximately 1883‒84 (Gore’s Liverpool Directories 1883). Although we should cautiously note that these directories were commercially produced, and can occasionally be inaccurate, we can nevertheless make an educated estimation that on the basis of such collective primary demographic information available, the bulk of the roads were almost certainly built over the duration of approximately 1877‒78, with the bloc of five completed in their entirety for habitation by 1884. While of improved quality, by modern standards this would seem a fairly slow rate of construction, but still broadly aligns with the accelerated rate of house-building trends as outlined within the timeframe of Table One.
28It can therefore be concluded that this approximate timescale of construction pre-dated the building of (the then much smaller) Anfield Football Stadium (1884), although these five roads were estimated to have been completed in full by about this date, at broadly the same time as the formation of Everton FC. However, it is perhaps more historically and indeed politically significant to note that on the basis of such topographical evidence, the majority of these particular houses were actually constructed during the timescale of Disraeli’s most prolonged and noteworthy premiership (1874‒80), and could indeed be classed as practical examples of the improved public housing that he was keen to promote, and within the chronological timescale of both his 1868 and 1875 legalisation having a swift and visible impact. While this date therefore evidently pre-empted the Primrose League’s formal creation as a Disraelian vehicle for posthumously honouring and prolonging his memory, Disraeli had many vocal public advocates and justification for such public memorial while he was still alive and indeed in public office. On this basis, the specific naming in the late 1870s was wholly consistent with his high-profile political role at the time, while also reflecting the prominent influence of local Conservative businessmen and politicians within the Conservative-run Liverpool City Council, as well as Disraeli’s previously highlighted links to the Lancashire region.
29Consequently, various city dignitaries would have been positively inclined to make a formal localised tribute to pay appropriate homage to the incumbent Prime Minister. In addition to Houlding’s prominent role in such specifically provincial cultural matters, another key political player was Arthur Forwood, who was significantly the Lord Mayor of Liverpool in 1877‒78, and later the Conservative MP for Ormskirk (1885‒98) (Horton). Forwood was an emerging figure in the ‘modernising’ movement of paternalistic ‘Tory Democracy’ (Clarke chapter 2), and he firmly argued that the party ‘must be democratic too’ (Clarke 45) if it was to maintain a mass electoral following, notably as democracy evolved in the expanding urban districts. This flourishing narrative of political modernisation within the context of Conservatism also had strong links to Disraeli and to the wider Lancashire region, with it being ‘upon Lancashire that most of the rhetoric of Tory Democracy was founded’ (Clarke 39). This was particularly so in Liverpool in the 1880s according to R. E. Quinault, as during an 1882 by-election in the city ‘the phrase “Tory democracy” crept into the press and thus into national political parlance . . . immediately identified with an almost radical kind of progressive Conservatism’ (Quinault 142). Clarke has described Forwood as subsequently becoming ‘the leading figure in Liverpool Conservatism in the 1880s and 1890s’ (Clarke chapter 2), effectively the blended local party and council leader, and a statue commemorating him endures in Liverpool’s St John’s Gardens. Forwood’s ‘populist’ leadership agenda and approach were continued in later years by Archibald Salvidge and his cultivation of Working Men’s Clubs within the city’s Protestant community.
30The convenient opportunity to further commemorate Disraeli therefore arose by the confluence of such political figures and groupings, entailing an urbanised tribute with these five roads named in such a themed manner. This was a less explicit (or obvious) method than the various iconic statues that would follow in a more high-profile manner after Disraeli’s death in 1881, with his statue in Liverpool highly being visible at the city’s prominent St George’s Hall plateau from 1883, and in a more prominent location on its front steps since 1927 (British Listed Buildings), which some locals nevertheless believed was unjustified (Rathbone). In a similar trend of commemoration with a Conservative political flavour, the adjacent Anfield streets of smaller terraces were named Balfour Street, Gorst Street and Randolph Street, and which according to local public records were estimated to have been built a few years later than the Disraeli roads in approximately 1884‒85 (Gore’s Liverpool Directories 1884 and 1885; City of Liverpool electoral registers 1880 and 1885). Although not in the same volume as the street (road)-names aligned with Disraeli, these names selected (it can be likely and logically suggested) were in tribute and memorial to other prominent late Victorian Conservative politicians Arthur Balfour, John Gorst and Randolph Churchill respectively; all of whom were Disraeli’s Westminster contemporaries. This represents a broader trend of political commemoration, with all three being members of the so-called ‘Fourth Party’, who collaboratively attacked the failings of both the Liberal government and Conservative opposition in an independent vein during the 1880‒85 Parliament in particular, and also having specific links to Disraeli’s ‘Tory Democracy’ legacy, as discussed by both Quinault and R. F. Foster (see Quinault 141‒65 and Foster).
31However, rather than being a posthumous memorial as many of the statues constructed in his honour were, the five Disraeli-themed roads being built during the period of Disraeli’s second premiership is wholly consistent with his status as a contemporary ‘celebrity’ of his time, whose specific and distinctive personality and conflated literary and political career gave him (according to Mayer) a sufficiently high-profile ‘within the framework of Victorian celebrity culture’ (Mayer 283). In a wider context, the prominent political rivalry between Gladstone and Disraeli during the late Victorian era has also been likened to a celebrity popularity contest by some academics. Clarke notably refers to the ‘personal ascendancy of Gladstone’ (Clarke 39) within the Liberal Party, spanning four separate terms of office as Prime Minister between the 1860s and 1890s. Disraeli was a parallel and similarly dominant Conservative figure, being perceived by many fellow Victorians as ‘a national and political icon’ (Mayer 292) as argued by Mayer, and being worthy of contemporary commemoration while still alive, as in the example of this specific housing development. Furthermore, Mark Dixon has alluded to the nascent phenomenon of material culture and celebrity within this particular political rivalry, which both leadership figures had actively cultivated (Dixon).
32Benjamin Disraeli’s historical legacy prevails in many forms within British life and contemporary culture, most notably via his recorded speeches and policies, various literature, and also through the range of iconic statues and images located across the country. Yet such a varied and deep-rooted legacy is not always obvious within the wider public consciousness, and in a lower profile manner, the naming of five roads in the Anfield district of Liverpool is a significant example of how his ‘Victorian celebrity’ status left an entrenched impact on the urban landscape. Subsequently, the creation of this identifiable bloc of terraced housing, largely constructed during his more substantial second premiership (1874‒80), can be further justified by Disraeli’s specific regional connections of the time, being yet another distinctive element of his diverse cultural impact and what Mayer calls ‘his enduring position in cultural memory’, that was not necessarily posthumous in nature (Mayer 283). The roads have changed in composition, layout and occupancy over the decades, while being blended into the distinctive sporting culture and environment of this community up to the present day.
- 7 This term reflected attempts which align Conservatism with popular opinion amidst a widening electo (...)
33As has been also noted, housing improvement and urban renewal can be derived from Disraeli’s paternalistic ‘One Nation’ creed during both his political and literary careers. On this premise, this specific housing case study has an evident ‘artisan’ focus aligned with his legacy and legislation, being appropriate and symbolic to his image as an iconic figurehead of ‘Tory Democracy’7 and its reformist policy agenda; notably so in social terms (although some scholars as highlighted have questioned Disraeli’s own sincerity towards such matters). Furthermore, the early twenty first century regeneration and re-development of these Victorian era Disraeli-themed roads, as highlighted in this article, was instigated via collaborative, inter-agency innovation, reflecting a co-operative pragmatism to deliver urban revival, which again can (at least implicitly) be associated with Disraeli’s political outlook. In addition, as well as these specific Disraelian cultural and historical links, this highlighted example reflects a persistent trend of housing renewal incorporating generations of social policymaking. Such dynamics have in this case involved the prevailing footballing culture of this community being the catalyst for recent housing rebirth within this inner-city, urbanised location. This case study therefore, aligned with a Disraelian cultural and social policy theme emanating from approximately 150 years ago, reflects a curious blend of historical commemoration and the realism of contemporary existence.
34Ultimately, while such houses were built during a distant and markedly different historical period and context, there today remains a continued and evolving existence of three and a half of the original five Disraeli roads overshadowed by Anfield football stadium, and they are embedded with the dual influences of Victorian social policy innovation and popular sporting culture. While their usage and requirements have changed and adapted accordingly as society has inevitably evolved, this enduring physical housing presence marks an unerring impact of Benjamin Disraeli on contemporary life within an urbanised district of a large, northern English city (albeit not always publicly acknowledged). This legacy of distinctive road names is therefore an original cultural and historical case study that links the past to the present, reflecting lifestyle changes, shifting residential and commercial trends, and more broadly the changing imperatives of government social policy over the decades. It also notably illustrates a symbiotic connection to Disraeli’s high-profile public image alongside his specifically reformist social policy narrative during the late Victorian era.