Personal Recollections of Birmingham and Birmingham Men | Page 6

eyes were bandaged to hide the tears
which she is shedding over her broken scales. The Bank of England has
not been altered, though at that time it was occupied by a private

company. Where the Inland Revenue Offices now stand, was a stone
barn, which was called a news-room. It was a desolate-looking place,
inside and out, and it was a mercy when it was pulled down. At the
right-hand corner, at the top, where Harrison's music shop now stands,
there was, in a large open court-yard, a square old brick mansion,
having a brick portico. A walled garden belonging to this house, ran
down Bennetts Hill, nearly to Waterloo Street, and an old brick
summer-house, which stood in the angle, was then occupied by Messrs.
Whateley as offices, and afterwards by Mr. Nathaniel Lea, the
sharebroker. At the corner of Temple Row West was a draper's shop,
carried on by two brothers--William and John Boulton. The brothers
fell out, and dissolved partnership. William took Mr. R.W. Gem's
house and offices in New Street, and converted them into the shop now
occupied by Messrs. Dew; stocked it; married a lady at Harborne;
started off to Leamington on his wedding tour; was taken ill in the
carriage on the way; was carried to bed at the hotel at Leamington, and
died the same evening. His brother took to the New Street shop; closed
the one in Temple Row; made his fortune; and died a few years ago--a
bachelor--at Solihull.
The present iron railings of St. Philip's Churchyard had not then been
erected. There was a low fence, and pleasant avenues of trees skirted
the fence on the sides next Colmore Row and Temple Row. I used to
like to walk here in the quiet of evening, and I loved to listen to the
bells in St. Philip's Church as they chimed out every three hours the
merry air, "Life let us Cherish."
A few weeks before my arrival, a general election, consequent upon the
dissolution of Parliament by the death of the King, took place. The
Tory party in Birmingham had been indiscreet enough to contest the
borough. They selected a very unlikely man to succeed--Mr. A.G.
Stapleton--and they failed utterly, the Liberals polling more than two to
one. The Conservatives had their head-quarters at the Royal Hotel in
Temple Row. Crowds of excited people surrounded the hotel day by
day and evening after evening. One night something unusual had
exasperated them, and they attacked the hotel. There were no police in
Birmingham then, and the mob had things pretty much their own way.

Showers of heavy stones soon smashed the windows to atoms, and so
damaged the building as to make it necessary to erect a scaffold
covering the whole frontage before the necessary repairs could be
completed. When I first saw it, it was in a wretched plight, and it took
many weeks to repair the damage done by the rioters. The portico now
standing in front of the building--which is now used as the Eye
Hospital--was built at this time, the doorway up to then not having that
protection.
From this point, going towards Bull Street, the roadway suddenly
narrowed to the same width as The Minories. Where the extensive
warehouses of Messrs. Wilkinson and Riddell now stand, but
projecting some twelve or fifteen feet beyond the present line of
frontage, were the stables and yard of the hotel. On the spot where their
busy clerks now pore over huge ledgers and journals, ostlers were then
to be seen grooming horses, and accompanying their work with the
peculiar hissing sound without which it appears that operation cannot
be carried on. Mr. Small wood occupied the shop at the corner, and his
parlour windows, on the ground floor, looked upon Bull Street, the
window sills being gay with flowers. It was a very different shop to the
splendid ones which has succeeded it, which Wilkinson and Riddell
have just secured to add to their retail premises.
The Old Square had, shortly before, been denuded of a pleasant garden
in the centre, the roads up to that time having passed round, in front of
the houses. The Workhouse stood on the left, about half way down
Lichfield Street. It was a quaint pile of building, probably then about
150 years old. There was a large quadrangle, three sides of which were
occupied by low two-storey buildings, and the fourth by a high brick
wall next the street. This wall was pierced in the centre by an arch,
within which hung a strong door, having an iron grating, through which
the porter inside could inspect coming visitors. From this door a
flagged footway crossed the quadrangle to the principal front, which
was surmounted by an old-fashioned clock-turret. Although I was never
an