A special reflective blog by Japheth Monzon, BSWN Policy Project Officer
Walking through Liverpool, I couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity–its streets, its history, its architecture, its ports, its contentious relationship between the past and present. It reminded me of home, it reminded me of Bristol.
I've only ever been to Liverpool once before. I was still young then, unaware of the pain that belies the stories woven in the city's narrative fabric. When my parents took me up north, it was all Beatles, Beatles, Beatles. We visited the Cavern Club, we visited other Beatles-adjacent monuments that celebrated the worldwide phenomenon of the 'Boy Band', but I don't really remember much else of that trip. It's all but a hazy memory to me now.
Growing up, I learned more about the city from afar from books, articles, and videos. I learned about its pride as a trade union city, and one staunchly upholding the Labour Party's values of equality and social justice. I also learned about its rich creative and musical heritage. As I type this paragraph out, the similarities between Bristol and Liverpool become increasingly evident.
But this time around, my perspective on the city flipped on its head. And even yet, this only consolidated my view of Liverpool and Bristol as sister-cities. Sister-cities built on unwilling bodies.
Behind the Curtain of Royal Albert Dock
Stepping foot onto the Royal Albert Dock, one would be excused to being awestruck at the sheer size of it. Bristolians themselves are used to the comparatively minuscule docks of Harbourside whose waters flow from the Atlantic to the narrow strip that is the River Avon. Certainly, this was something pointed out by our historian-guide, Laurence Westgaph. Liverpool has the luxury of being directly situated by the Atlantic, whilst London and Bristol are relatively limited by the breadth of their respective rivers. This luxury wasn't always present, though.
By the time Bristol and London became trading centres of England, Liverpool was a small settlement boasting a population in the moderate thousands–certainly not the trading powerhouse it was destined to become. But as time went on, and as technological advances pushed forward, Liverpool soon established itself as the definitive trading port of the United Kingdom (approximately by the end of the 18th century). In fact, an astounding 40% of all trade in the United Kingdom first had to go through the proud city of Liverpool. And naturally, the city flourished. The innovations made in maritime technology were central to Scouse success. What is now the Liverpool One station used to contain the first commercial wet dock. A wet dock is described as "a dock where the water is shut in and kept at a given level to facilitate the loading and unloading of ships."
Due to this revolution in naval equipment, it became significantly easier to transport materials such as cotton, sugar, and tobacco. In the same vein, it became that much easier to transport another commodity that traders valued: trafficked bodies. And naturally, the city flourished.
The Tendrils of Enslavement
If you were to give an honest assessment of both Bristol and Liverpool, then you will have to acknowledge the indelible roles they played in facilitating the Transatlantic Trafficking of Enslaved Africans (TTEA). Bristol itself is currently reckoning with its sordid history in enslavement, with the Bristol Legacy Foundation doing incredibly valuable work to commemorate the role that African-heritage peoples have had in building the city from the ground up. Similarly, Liverpool has dedicated considerable space within the Royal Albert Dock to the International Slavery Museum which aims to bring forth the dark histories that Liverpool had spent so long hiding from plain site.
I describe the involvement of Liverpool in slavery as 'tendrils of enslavement' because it became evidently clear how ingrained the economics of slavery had played in the entrepreneurial, architectural, ecclesiastical, and cultural fabric of the city. Everywhere I looked, I was told that it had some sort of relationship with the trafficking of enslaved people. From bollards inscribed with the names of trading dynasties, to buildings surrounding the dock, even to the waters of the sea itself. Indeed, if these waters could speak they would tell stories that could defrost even the coldest of hearts.
These tendrils extended to the education system. The prestigious Blundell family had a stake in around 111 seafaring voyages that transported almost 30,000 trafficked people to their eventual destination in the New World. Around a sixth of these unwilling passengers died at sea. But this was of no concern to the Blundells, who viewed these human beings as chattel to be used and abused. Using the proceeds that came from these sordid trade, the Blundells financed the building of Liverpool's most prestigious school: The Blue Coat School which continues to operate to this very day.
The tendrils of enslavement don't stop there. We learned that the proceeds coming from the triangle trade funded the chemical industry, the soap industry, and the ecclesiastical environment in the 18th century. Unsurprisingly, the banks were embroiled in this dirty business, with 10 out of 14 banks in Liverpool being founded by slave traders. Even the more 'anti-slavery' banks such as the Rathbone Corporation still bought cotton picked by the enslaved–leading to considerable cognitive dissonance amongst the heirs of this fortune. To this day, these banks still exist but have been merged into the larger Big 6 High Street banks.
Hard Truths
But we cannot pretend that Bristol itself is comparatively 'clean' in our history. Our buildings, our streets, and our schools continue to be named after those who profited from the trafficking of enslaved Africans. Yes, we have been making progress in undoing these long-harmful histories, but we still have a long way to go. One thing that was incredibly prominent in my trip was the comparisons made with the city of Bristol.
Within the historical trading hubs of Liverpool, we came upon the ceremonial chambers of city's leadership – now used as chambers for the City Council. Etched into its edifice were symbols commemorating the wealth gained from the exploitation of Africa's indigenous population and the ravaging of North America's native communities. This, of course, is of no surprise. But what was surprising is the building's striking resemblance to Bristol's own Corn Exchange, which similarly portrays a bust of a lady wearing a headpiece adorned with tobacco leaves. The Corn Exchange was the historic hub for merchants and traders involved in the export-import of goods from West Africa and the Caribbean.
On the flip side, there are also differences between how the City of Bristol and the City of Liverpool approached the eventual abolition of slavery. Both Bristol and London, proudly, held communities that banded together in an attempt to advocate for the end of enslavement, particularly through the submission of petitions to Parliament. In a 20 year span, Bristol petitioned quite a few times. In comparison, Liverpool (within the same 20 year span) had sent zero petitions to Parliament advocating for the end of slavery. On the contrary, Liverpool remained an ardent defender of the slave trade–which had rightly earned the city the title of the "epicentre of the anti-abolitionist movement in the UK."
An Experience to Remember
My visit to Liverpool, courtesy of the Black British History Local Perspectives Network on behalf of the work we do at Black South West Network to share our UnMuseum programme so far, will remain etched into my mind for as long as I can remember. The city's historical opulence stemming from slavery cannot be erased so easily, and there are many attempts being made to bring these hard, cold truths to the surface for the public to reckon with. What exemplifies this most exquisitely is the Port of Liverpool building, an incredibly beautiful domed building in the style of Edwardian Baroque. The beauty of its domed ceiling captured my heart. But the inscriptions at the base of the dome is what soured it in the same moment. Circumscribing the dome, the inscription reads:
"To the sea in ships that do business in the great waters, these see the works of the Lord and his wonders in the Deep."
Certainly, the merchants of Liverpool, as well as the merchants of Bristol, saw these ventures as worthy of commemoration, wonders inspired by the divine, for all the world to see. But times have changed, and now the world knows better. Let these monuments remain to remember all the lives lost in the selfish pursuit of glory, wealth, and empire.