They say opposites attract. Perhaps houses do too? In a quiet Walthamstow park stands a building once home to two innovative Londoners who might have disagreed about almost everything: William Morris and Edward Lloyd.
Mention William Morris, and most people think of beautiful fabric or wallpaper designs inspired by nature. There’s scarcely a country house that has not, at some stage, been adorned by the wonderfully named Strawberry Thief or an aspirant Chelsea kitchen decked out in Willow Bough. But Morris was much more than the inspiration for a pattern on a Liberty dress.

William Morris Museum current exhibition on Liberty’s prints
One of the most influential cultural figures of Victorian Britain, Morris was a poet and author, as well as a designer, an early campaigner for socialism, a founder of the heritage conservation lobby and a key figure in the Arts and Crafts movement. His writing is even credited with helping to establish today’s fantasy genre. He challenged the inequalities and ugliness of industrial society, championing craft traditions. The museum dedicated to his life and work is in Walthamstow, in the house where he spent his teenage years, alongside his widowed mother and eight siblings.
Water House was built in the mid-18th century. A typical Georgian mansion, it was one of a number of fine houses in the large village of Walthamstow, then reached from London through fields by way of a chain of villages — Leyton, Clapton, Hackney. It was a rural retreat favoured by stockbrokers and merchants: far enough to escape the grime of the city, but close enough to keep an eye on business. It’s a handsome building, classically symmetrical but set apart by two semi-cylindrical bays rising the full three storeys, a pair of giant rugby props waiting for the hooker in between.
The Morris family moved in in 1848, and the house and its setting must have had a profound effect on young William. He later recalled how the freedom, exploration and immersion in nature that surrounded it fostered his love of landscape and his eye for nature’s patterns. Morris left Walthamstow in 1856 but his imprint spread across London: from the Red House in Bexleyheath to his later home in Hammersmith, and in the stained glass and interiors of churches across the city.

Morris’s edition of The Works of Geoffrey Chaucer
Morris was not the only notable resident of Water House. After the Morris family moved out in 1856, the publishing tycoon Edward Lloyd took on the property, enlarging it and improving the park. Lloyd made his fortune in cheap books and newspapers, specifically the Penny Bloods, which were filled with stories of pirates and highwaymen. “More blood, much more blood…” he is said to have demanded. Sweeney Todd, the murderous maker of unusual pies and Barber of Fleet Street started life in one of Lloyd’s magazines. These publications, later known as Penny Dreadfuls, included early horror stories: Varney the Vampire appeared 50 years before Bram Stoker’s genre-defining Dracula. He also published melodramas, bodice-ripping romances and blatant rip-offs of Dickens.
Beyond Water House, Morris and Lloyd were both unwittingly united by a commitment to the poorer classes: Morris through his socialism, Lloyd through his desire to bring reading to the masses. Otherwise, they stood at opposite ends of the spectrum. Lloyd embraced mechanisation and industry; Morris saw its dehumanising impact and the loss of craft.
Football pitch-perfect patterns
Their differences extended even to publishing. Late in life, Morris also turned to printing books. Through the Kelmscott Press he reimagined what a book could be: type, paper, binding and illustration working as a single design. It was a quiet rebellion against the mechanised cheapness of mass print that Lloyd had helped to popularise.
Edward Lloyd died in 1890 and is buried in Highgate Cemetery. His son donated the house and grounds to Walthamstow in 1898, the estate becoming Lloyd Park in 1900. The house opened as a museum in 1950, with the prime minister Clement Attlee cutting the ribbon, bringing to fruition plans that had taken almost four decades to realise. More recently the gallery has been substantially renovated and is now free to the public, with exhibitions that continue to reinterpret Morris and his legacy. It helps, too, that the airy Deeney’s café is the platonic ideal of what a museum café should be, with its huge great windows looking over Lloyd Park, its haggis toasties and top-tier cakes.

William Morris Museum
Morris’s legacy does not end in the museum. It has a habit of resurfacing in less expected places. In 2023, Walthamstow Football Club made national headlines. Edward Lloyd would have been pleased; he understood the value of a good story. Why? For a magnificent 5-0 victory over AFC Welwyn? No. For their shirts.
In a collaboration between the club, the gallery and artist collective Wood Street Walls, Walthamstow FC’s home and away strips took inspiration from the flowers, intertwining stems and leaves of Morris & Co’s Yare designs. Examples are now held in the V&A, but I like to think that William Morris would have been even more pleased to see his patterns worn not in a drawing room but on a muddy pitch. Beauty woven into the fabric of everyday life.
John Darlington is Director of Projects for World Monuments Fund