Its Varied and odd trades.
If some outside people were asked
to name in three lines the three chief trades of Birmingham
they would probably answer by saying “Guns,”
“Hardware,” and then, perhaps rather puzzled,
might add “more guns.” This, however,
would be a very bald and incomplete reply, and would
denote a somewhat benighted idea of the productive
resources of Birmingham. Gun and pistol making
form a very important industry in the city, and one
ward St. Mary’s is the
happy hunting ground of small firearm makers.
All the same, gunmaking is not the be-all and end-all
of our manufacturing activity, and is, indeed, only
one of the many and increasing trades that thrive
and progress in the midland hardware capital.
It is, indeed, a distinct advantage
for Birmingham that it has many different trades,
and if some are depressed and slack others may be
active and prosperous. Hence, there is generally
business doing somewhere. It is the misfortune
of some towns and districts to be devoted entirely
to one or two industries. For instance, take
Manchester. If the cotton trade becomes depressed
or paralysed Cottonopolis soon becomes a starved-out
city. Then there are textile towns, boot and
shoe boroughs, pottery districts, &c., &c. Birmingham,
however, is pretty smart at taking up new ideas, and
does not let new manufacturing industries go begging
for a home. A certain number of trades languish
and die out owing to change of fashion and to certain
articles becoming obsolete. Snuffers and powder
flasks, for instance, are not in large demand in the
present day. A limited number are still made
for travellers and for remote countries that have not
cartridges, the electric light, or even incandescent
gas, within their reach.
Brass and pearl button making used
to be important industries, and tons of such wares
used to be made in Birmingham in the course of a month.
Comparatively few are made now. Yet we are not
exactly “buttonless black-guards,” as
Cobbett at least, I think it was Cobbett once
disrespectfully called the Quakers, and buttons of
various kinds other than pearl and brass are turned
out in barrow loads. I remember some years ago
going over the button factory of Messrs. Dain, Watts,
and Manton, an old-established business now carried
on by Mr. J.S. Manton, and was then shown a curious
composition or kind of paste that could be made into
buttons useful for all sorts of purposes. On my
asking what the “button dough” was made
of, Mr. Manton, I remember, gave me the comprehensive
reply, “anything.”
All sorts of stuff having any substance
in it was indeed thrown into a kind of mortar, ground
up, mixed with something that gave the mass cohesion
and plasticity, then moulded into buttons as clay is
moulded by the potter, and burned, dried, and hardened.
Therefore, if brass and pearl buttons are in limited
demand, there are other materials from which a new
useful and cheap article can be made the
“very button” for the time and
this is produced in much larger quantities than the
more costly articles of a few generations ago.
In spite, then, of changes in fashion,
Birmingham is still I will not say a button
hole, but a city where billions of buttons are made.
Witness, for instance, the turn-out of such a manufactory
as that of Thomas Carlyle, Limited. Here is a
great and extended concern grafted upon an old-established
business, and which at the present time gives employment,
regularly, to over 1,000 hands. Buttons are made
to go to all people, save the rude and nude races,
and a few odd millions produced for home use.
And speaking of all this reminds me how in the days
of my boyhood I sometimes saw a queer character known
as “Billy Button.” He was a sight
to behold, for he was decorated with buttons, mostly
brass, from top to toe, and presented a sight that
was enough to make a thoroughbred quaker swoon.
Birmingham, as I have remarked, is
sufficiently enterprising not to let opportunities
slip through its fingers. Its trades are still
increasing, and increasing in number and variety,
and though there is a tendency in some of the big
industries that do a large foreign trade to get nearer
to the sea-board, there are those who are sanguine
enough to believe that the number of our works and
our workpeople will increase and multiply till the
large supplies of water that are to be conducted to
us from Mid-Wales will be none too copious for the
great unwashed and other inhabitants of our city a
few years hence.
Referring again to outsiders and their
ideas of Birmingham trades, when visitors distinguished
or otherwise come to see our factories there
are two that they generally begin and often end with namely,
Mr. Joseph Gillott’s pen manufactory and the
electro-plate works of Messrs. Elkington. Of
late years the Birmingham Small Arms establishment
at Small Heath has gained attention and made a good
third to our show industries.
Visitors to Messrs. Elkington’s
are, of course, largely attracted by the artistic
contents and triumphs of the famous Newhall Street
show rooms. The name of the Elkington firm has
a world-wide fame, and their splendid artistic achievements
may almost be said to be epoch-making in the way of
combining utility with beautiful design to the highest
degree. Those, however, who fancy that Messrs.
Elkington’s great and extending manufactory
is kept going by designing and producing splendid vases,
shields, cups, and sumptuous gold and silver services,
are, of course, hugely mistaken. The ordinary
spoons, forks, &c., that are to be seen I
won’t say on every table, but on the tables of
millions of people, are the staple productions of
such firms as that of which I speak. Indeed,
if I could probe into the secret chambers of Messrs.
Elkington’s back safe, I should probably find
that the production of those exquisite artistic articles
of theirs has not been the department of their business
that has brought the greatest grist to the mill and
made a commercial success of their trade.
Those visitors to Elkington’s
who penetrate beyond the show rooms will find much
to interest, and in some cases to mystify them.
Electro-plating is indeed almost a magical sort of
craft. How it is that dirty looking metal spoons
can be put into a dirty looking bath and come out
white and silvered must amaze and bewilder many strange
eyes. Impassive as Asiatics can be, I should
much like for once just to watch the eyes of an eastern
conjuror and magician when he saw the electro bath
trick, and especially when done in the way and on the
scale that may be witnessed at the Birmingham Newhall
Street works.
With regard to Mr. Joseph Gillott’s
pen manufactory it is a very interesting show place,
but is practical and prosaic compared with the art
electro-plate establishment I have just now referred
to. Those, however, who like to see processes,
and something going on quickly from stage to stage,
find Mr. Gillott’s factory a place of almost
fascinating interest. They can, indeed, observe
the steel pen emerge from its native metal, see it
pressed and stamped, and again pressed and stamped,
slitted, annealed, coloured, and finally boxed and
packed. They can also see the penholders produced
and inhale the sweet and pungent fragrance of cedar
wood, and they can look on the production of the pen
boxes which are made in so many attractively coloured
varieties.
All this is to be seen in the course
of a little march through Mr. Gillott’s factory,
which is, indeed, a pattern of order and cleanliness,
and so well conducted as to be almost like a real adult
school of industry. Female labour is largely employed as
is customary in the pen trade the nimble
fingers and deft hands of many girls finding useful
employment, without fatiguing labour, in the various
processes of the pen-making business.
Pen-making is, of course, a great
industry, but there are pens and pens, and for some
of the lower qualities the trade price is of incredible
cheapness. I sometimes think that if an enterprising
merchant were to try and place an order for a million
gross of steel pens at 1d. per gross, and 75 per cent.
discount for cash, he would succeed in doing it.
The quantity it is that pays.
The pleasure and interest of going
over Mr. Gillott’s establishment is enhanced
by the fact that visitors see the popular pens of commerce
and the aristocratic pens of what Jeames calls the
“upper suckles” made, so to speak, side
by side. The Graham Street works could not be
kept going by merely making dainty gold pens, fine
long barrelled goose quills, and other such superior
productions. The everyday person muse be considered
and supplied with everyday pens, and the everyday person,
although he buys cheap pens, is a more profitable
customer than he looks.
A well-known mustard maker has been
known to say that he makes his profit out of what
people leave on their plates. In other words,
the everyday waste of people vastly increases mustard
consumption. In the same way the everyday pen
is so cheap that it is not used with care and economy.
It is lightly thrown aside often before it is half
worn, and is often objurgated and wasted because it
is dipped into bad ink. But what does it matter
when you can get a gross of pens for just a few pence.
One more little remark about the Graham
Street works and I have done. I take leave to
doubt if Mr. Joseph Gillott turns out any of the very
cheapest and commonest pens, but I feel pretty certain
that he makes the best and most costly productions
of their kind. There are still very many people
at home and abroad especially Americans who
do not like to put a little common, “vulgar”
pen on their writing tables. They prefer to see
something more superior in style and finish. On
such pens as these will generally be seen the name
of Mr. Joseph Gillott. There are, of course,
other makers of good steel pens in Birmingham, but
their places are not so much visited or their productions
so widely known as the pens of Graham Street works.
A few years ago Birmingham penmakers,
as well as others, were disposed to be rather terrified
at the advent of the typewriter, and fancied in their
sable moments that the steel pen would sooner or later
be superseded. They are not now so dismayed as
they were, and I hardly think they need be. The
electric light has not put out gas; in spite of railway
engines I still see a few horses about sometimes; and
even motor cars and the like will not at present run
locomotive engines off the line. I, therefore,
think that makers of fine points, broad points, medium
points, &c., may rest securely in their pens, notwithstanding
a Yost of typewriters, Remington, or what not.
Few people outside our own borders
quite realise, perhaps, what a large and important
industry the jewellery trade is in Birmingham.
Yet one quarter of the city the Hockley
district is chiefly devoted to what cynical
people call the production of baubles. If anyone
doubts the extent to which the jewellery trade is
carried on, and the number of hands engaged in it,
let him station himself somewhere Hockley way at the
hour of one o’clock in the day, and he will see
for himself.
No sooner has the welcome sound of
the tocsin been heard almost indeed before
it has time to sound hundreds, aye thousands
of men emerge from their workshops, and for a time
quite throng streets that just before the magic hour
of one p.m. were comparatively quiet and empty.
Curiously enough these working jewellers
seem to come from hidden and obscure regions, and
appear in the open from their industrial cells through
many small doors and entries, rather than through large
gateways which are opened at certain regulation hours.
The jewellery trade is not carried
out in large factories with tall, towering stacks,
powerful steam engines, &c. Machinery may be used
in certain branches of the trade for all I know, but,
speaking generally, working jewellers sit at their
bench, play their blow-pipe, and with delicate appliances
and deft hands put together the precious articles of
fancy they make.
Handsome lockets are not turned in
a lathe. Diamond and ruby rings are not productions
that are run through a machine and sold by the gross,
“subject.” Nor are jewelled pendants
made in presses, nor beautiful bracelets banged into
shape by the mechanical thump of a stamping machine.
The consequence is that jewellery work of the finest
fashion is made in small establishments, but as I
have said there are so many of these that the “turn-out”
in the way of “hands” is a formidable element
in our local population.
It is, we know, an ancient saw that
tells us that two of a trade cannot agree, but it
has always struck me that jewellers belie this generally
accepted maxim. I came to this conclusion from
knowing and visiting a colony of goldfinches I
mean master jewellers, who are quite civil to each
other, will sit at meat and drink together, go to the
same place of worship, and generally behave as friends,
neighbours, and Christians.
How it was that these employer blow-pipers
could maintain and assume such a benign and almost
brotherly attitude towards each other was a little
puzzling to me till I thought the matter out.
Jewellers they might all be, but they did not all
jewel alike. They rowed in the same boat, but
not with the same sculls to use Jerrold’s
old joke, They blowed the same pipe, but played different
tunes. In a word they produced different varieties
of jewellery, and consequently did not cut each other’s
throats in competition. One would chiefly make
chains, another lockets and pendants, a third studs
and sleeve links, a fourth rings, a fifth bracelets
and brooches, and another miscellaneous high-class
productions, including mayoral chains, &c., &c.
Under these circumstances the two or three of a trade
to whom I have referred have been able to agree, and
will be able to maintain good fellowship till such
times as some largely enterprising bold blow-piper
forms himself into a large syndicate, resolves to
make everything himself, and crush down all competition.
But that time is not yet.
In speaking of the jewellery trade
in Birmingham, I think I am safe in saying that at
any rate until recently the town, now a city, has not
enjoyed full credit for the high-class work it produces.
For a long time it was regarded as the workshop of
cheap “sham” jewellery, and that if you
wanted really good things you must go to London and
buy in the marts of New Bond Street.
If any such heathen now exist, and
I suspect they do, they would be rather surprised
if they knew how much London sold jewellery is made
in Birmingham. Purchasers have the pleasure of
buying in Bond Street, and of having bracelets, bangles,
rings and lockets put in cases with a well-known West-end
firm’s name on it, and that is something of which
they are proud, and for which they are willing to pay.
And they do have to pay. In proof of which I
will tell a true story. Some years ago I knew
a Birmingham manufacturing jeweller whose line was
gold and silver pencil cases. I was looking over
his show cases one day when he picked up a small good
pencil case suitable to put on a lady’s chain.
My friend told me chat his trade price for this article
was 3d., and he had seen it marked his
own make 18s. in Regent Street shops.
I have known of others in the fancy trades tell a
similar story.
For instance, a manufacturer once
told me that he had made gold ware for the Royal table,
but not directly. His order came from a West-end
house and his name was to be altogether suppressed.
In some preceding remarks I referred
to cheap sham jewellery. There is a very considerable
amount of it made in Birmingham, and “gilt jewellery”
is the name by which it is known. Respecting this
trade and its productions I can, perhaps, tell a few
of my readers something that may rather surprise them.
Not many years ago I wished to see and purchase some
of this gilt jewellery in order to make gay and glorious
a Christmas tree Heaven forbid, of course,
that my friends or myself should adorn ourselves with
such baubles.
I went to a manufacturer of these
wares to make my purchases, and hoped to buy cheaply.
And I did; at a price indeed that rather astonished
me. For instance, I was shown some brilliant
looking brooches of good design and finish, and sparkling
with diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, of rich
lustre or, I should say, imitations of these
precious stones. I looked at these handsome productions
and thought a good price would be asked for them.
I was, as I have hinted however, rather more than
astonished to find that I could make a very good selection
at from 15s. to 18s. per dozen.
Just fancy, these brilliant brooches
adorned with gems of purest ray serene that
is, to the naked, unexpert eye well-fashioned
in the matter of workmanship, and looking of, at least,
eighteen carat gold, and yet they could be purchased
at the rate of from fifteen to eighteen pence each.
What, however, staggered me still more was to find
that there was a lower deep still in the matter of
price. On my venturing to remark to the warehouse-man
who showed me the articles mentioned, that I supposed
they were the very cheapest things in the trade, he
remarked, “Oh dear no, we don’t do anything
in the cheap stuff line. If you want that you
must go to Messrs. So-and-So, in Blank Street.”
I went to the cheap firm he named
in Blank Street, and there sure enough found cheap
stuff and no mistake. Brooches and lockets at
12s. a dozen and even less, and handsome watch chains
at the rate of about 10d. each. I must add, however,
that the makers would not dispose of less than a dozen
of each article shewn. Perhaps they could hardly
be expected to sell retail at such prices as I have
named.
Having obtained the “Open Sesame”
to the jewelled caves or warehouses of the gilt jewellers
I came away loaded with gems, and my purse but very
little lighter. So well indeed did some of my
purchases look when I got them home that I could not
see much difference between them and the real articles.
Consequently, when I now see fair ladies gaily bedecked
with a superfluity of handsome lustrous trinkets I
think of the gilt jewellery trade, and brooches at
15s. per dozen, less a discount doubtless to the trade.
Leaving, now, the gold and gilt jewellery
trades, which, as I have said, form a large industry
in our midst, let me just briefly refer to some of
the odd trades that are carried on in Birmingham.
Among these I will first of all mention the manufacture
of ship Logs, because it seems somewhat curious that
an insular place like Birmingham, whose only suggestion
of maritime operations is the canal, should produce
Logs that is, cunningly devised instruments
for ascertaining the speed of ships. Yet if I
go to north country ports, such as Leith, and if I
go south to Dover, or west to Cardiff, I see the “Cherub,”
the “Harpoon,” and other Logs made by
the firm of T. Walker and Sons, Oxford Street, Birmingham.
As I have said, it seems a little strange, if not funny,
that Birmingham should produce ship appliances.
Nevertheless, the present Mr. T.F. Walker, and
his father before him, have been making and improving
ship Logs till their trade name is known and their
productions seen in every port of significance here
in Britain and abroad as well.
A city, however, that produces Artificial
Human Eyes may see its way to make anything; consequently,
all sorts of diverse things are produced in Birmingham,
from coffin furniture to custard powder, vices to vinegar,
candles to cocoa, blue bricks to bird cages, handcuffs
to horse collars, anvils to hat bands, soap to sardine
openers, &c., &c., &c.
There are also in Birmingham certain
trades that without being large industries have taken
fixed root in the locality. For instance, there
is the glass trade, which employs a good few men,
and, perhaps, it used to employ more. On this
point I am not certain, but I do know that one large
glass manufactory that existed in my younger days namely,
that of Rice Harris, which stood near where now stands
the Children’s Hospital, Broad Street was
disestablished many years ago.
If I remember rightly Rice Harris’s
glass works had one of those large old-fashioned brick
domes that I fancy are not constructed nowadays.
One or two, however, still remain, and I for one feel
glad that Messrs. Walsh and Co., of Soho, allow their
dome to stand where it did, just as a landmark and
to remind me of pleasant bygone days.
I confess, too, that I like to go
into one of these big glass hives, or rather glass-making
hives, and see the workmen at their “chairs”
blowing and moulding the hot ductile glass into its
appointed form and patterns; and I like also to see
the curling wreaths of smoke ascend and disappear
through the orifice at the top of the dome. And
when I look at this I wonder how that huge chimney
is cleaned, and where the Titanic sweep is that could
undertake such a gigantic job. Well, I can hardly
say I wonder, because I think I have been told that
the way the soot is cleaned from these well-smoked
domes is by firing shot at the roof, which brings
down the dirt.
When in the winter season I see skates
prominently exposed for sale in our shop windows I
am reminded of another of the odd or rather side industries
of Birmingham. I refer to the steel toy trade.
The word toy seems appropriate enough when applied
to skates and quoits, but seems a curious word to
designate such articles of distinct utility as hammers,
pincers, turnscrews, pliers, saws, and chisels, yet
these articles and many others of a similar kind are
included in the words “steel toys.”
This steel toy trade, if not a great industry in Birmingham,
is an old-established one, and has been carried on
for years by good well-known local names, such as
Richard Timmins and Sons, Messrs. Wynn and Co., and
others.