Last edited 23 Mar 2025

Main author

Institute of Historic Building Conservation Institute / association Website

Saving DH Lawrence's birthplace

The restoration of the novelist’s birthplace in Eastwood and the rehabilitation of historic miners’ housing were achievements of 1960s and 1970s area improvement legislation.

DH Lawrence house.jpg
DH Lawrence’s birthplace, photographed in 2007 (Photo:PJ Marriott,Wikimedia).

DH Lawrence’s relationship with the small, hilltop town he grew up in, Eastwood in Nottinghamshire, was always ambivalent. Its rural surroundings were ‘the country of my heart’ and featured in his novels. But the streets of miners’ cottages close to the town centre, where his family lived, were ‘sordid and hideous’, even though later generations might view them as worthy of preservation. He freely used Eastwood characters in his writing; to many locals, he was ‘that mucky man’ who had left the town and later, becoming famous, rubbished its reputation. One, allegedly the model for the gamekeeper in Lady Chatterley’s Lover, threatened to ‘wring his neck’ if he ever came across him.

In the early 1970s, when Eastwood was hardly more beguiling as a town than it had been in Lawrence’s day, the local council had begun to demolish the remaining miners’ terraces, known as ‘The Squares’ or ‘The Buildings’, slowly rehousing the retired colliers still living there. There was a snag: in one corner stood 8a Victoria Street, the house where Lawrence was born in 1885, which had been listed as a building of historic interest. Unable to demolish it, the council planned to surround it with a development of 209 nondescript, low-rise flats, surrounded by lawns, that would remove any context for the house and possibly pave the way to get rid of it at a later date.

At the end of March 1974, along with the rest of the urban and rural districts of England, Eastwood Council was due to disappear and be replaced by a bigger local authority whose town hall was 12 miles away in Broxtowe. Councillors wanted to finish the demolition before they left office. But in late 1973, the new borough council set up a pilot team of town planners, of which I was one. We saw a chance, both to save some local heritage and make new plans that were more in line with what residents had told us they wanted. They liked living close to the main street and most wanted their houses kept and improved. The now defunct Eastwood Advertiser took up the case.

Responding to public pressure, the old council reluctantly agreed to await the production of an alternative scheme. A survey was carried out and a new plan prepared that would retain as many as possible of the miners’ cottages and put in new housing where demolition had already created gaps. There was an exhibition of the rival schemes, followed by a public meeting and a council debate. Public opinion began to turn. Two opinion surveys showed over 80 per cent support for retaining and improving the remaining homes, in part because residents were well aware that if demolition took place many of them would be rehoused at a distance from the town centre and its facilities.

Although the old council refused to change its plans, it was running out of time to rehouse any remaining families and carry out further demolitions. But although its proposals had been thwarted, it kept quiet about a hidden threat to the new project. The coal mines in which Lawrence’s father had worked were in the last decade of their life, but a new seam was to be driven directly under the old streets, threatening subsidence and requiring the work to be put on hold. It was only when the new council took over that staff found the files with the coal board’s warnings. We were horrified to discover that a year’s delay would be necessary to assess the effects of subsidence on the buildings and, if necessary, correct them. We struggled to keep residentsconfidence, as the old council had been moving slowly and the promised start on site would have to be deferred still further.

Finally, late in 1976, work began: 92 houses that had been bought by the council for demolition were kept and rehabilitated, private owners of the remaining houses were offered grants to improve them and 96 new houses, designed to fit into the area, were built on the sites of those already cleared. Environmental improvements would include reconstruction of a lengthy retaining wall needed because of the sloping site, and partial closures of streets to allow tree planting and remove a rat-run used by traffic wishing to avoid Eastwood’s main shopping street.

Partly to maintain residentsconfidence in the area’s future, it was declared a general improvement area (GIA) under the Housing Act 1969. GIAs were, in part, a government response to the growing clamour against slum clearance in the 1960s, which saw the widespread disappearance of pre-1919 houses, many in poor condition but increasingly reaching into areas of better housing which could economically be kept and improved. The 1969 act was a precursor to the more intensive housing improvement measures included in the Housing Act 1974. Both combined renovation grants for private owners with government funding of environmental improvements for the areas to be retained.

The GIA declaration in Eastwood was justified using a cost-benefit analysis required by government. This showed an average cost per bedspace for improving the properties of £1,633, compared with a likely new build/replacement cost of £3,252 (both figures at 1974 prices). Following the GIA declaration and somewhat in defiance of the Coal Board’s advice, the council went ahead and improved one empty property as a show house, so that residents could see and comment on the planned work to their homes. In the event, the new mining activity had no noticeable effects on the structure of the houses and the delay turned out to have been unnecessary.

Another reason for seeking GIA status was access to the limited government fund of £200 per house for environmental improvements. The legislation allowed for local authorities to bid for a higher level of funding than this and, given the extensive environmental works needed, the new Broxtowe Council applied for it to be increased to £828 per house. This was the first time nationally that such an application had been made and, after lengthy negotiations and submission of evidence, a higher level of grant was approved – at a princely £210 per house. Nevertheless, given the commitments made to residents (who were involved in discussions with the council through an elected committee), the council went ahead with the original plans.

Most of the surviving houses face on to Princes Street, which runs west to east along the slope of the hill on which The Buildings still stand. Today, it is tree-lined and traffic-free. Round the corner, the modern library with its Lawrence section is still open, even if the nearby Lawrence Heritage Centre was forced to close because of government cuts. Broxtowe Council turned 8a Victoria Street, the Lawrence birthplace, into a small museum as part of the improvement scheme, kitting it out as a respectable working-class home of the late 19th century. A visitor can see some of Lawrence’s paintings and other relics.

While residents fought hard to keep their homes, few were keen for Lawrence to be recognised in the place which figures so prominently in his novels. One who did was Enid Goodband, who persuaded the council to buy the house and preserve it, despite its plans to demolish its surroundings. When it became a museum, Broxtowe Council decided that she would make a good first curator, and it was she who built up the collection and helped make Eastwood a destination for literary tourists. Enid Goodband eventually retired from that job and died in 2016 at the age of 91, but not before she had asserted that ‘The old feelings [of hostility towards Lawrence] are dying as the older generation dies.’

The Lawrence birthplace is a fitting memorial to her efforts. The surrounding area remains as evidence of how the housing legislation of the 1960s and 1970s led to historic areas being kept that would otherwise have been demolished, as local authorities gradually learned to take account of the wishes of their residents.


This article originally appeared in the Institute of Historic Building Conservation’s (IHBC’s) Context 181, published in September 2024. It was written by John Perry, who worked as a town planner for Broxtowe Council in the 1970s and subsequently led the inner-city renewal programme for Leicester City Council. Currently he is policy adviser to the Chartered Institute of Housing, working remotely from Nicaragua.

--Institute of Historic Building Conservation

Related articles on Designing Buildings Conservation.

Designing Buildings Anywhere

Get the Firefox add-on to access 20,000 definitions direct from any website

Find out more Accept cookies and
don't show me this again