employment in the office of Pickford and Co., the great carrying firm.
Here his marvellous energy, his quickness of apprehension, his
mastery of detail, his accuracy of calculation, and his rapidity as
a correspondent, soon raised him to a good position. He had, however,
higher aims, and having the sagacity to foresee that the use of
aerated beverages, which had just been introduced, must soon become
general, he left the office and commenced the manufacture of soda
water, a business which he successfully carried on as long as he
lived, and which is still continued in his name by his successors.
This business fairly afloat, his energies sought further outlet, and
he soon, in conjunction with his partner, Mr. Nelson, commenced
at Leamington the manufacture, by a patent process, of artificial
isinglass and gelatine. This business, too, was successful and is
still in operation, Nelson's gelatine being known all over the world.
Besides these, he had a mustard mill, was an extensive dealer in
cigars, and for many years was associated with the late Mr. Jefferies
in the manufacture of marine glue. About 1851 he took over an
unsuccessful co-operative glass manufactory in Hill Street, which his
vigorous management soon converted into a great success. The business
growing beyond the capabilities of the premises, he removed it to the
extensive works at Lodge Road, where he continued to conduct it until
his death, and where it is still carried on by his executors for the
benefit of his family.
He was for some years a member of the Birmingham Town Council, and was
one of its hardest workers. Much might be said of the energetic manner
in which he opposed all weakness in action, and of the manly vigour
of his advocacy of all schemes for the benefit of the town of his
adoption. It will be especially remembered how hard he worked to
induce the Council to buy Aston Park for the town, when its price was
low, and how he used to chafe at the thought that double the present
area of the park might have been purchased, for less money than
was ultimately paid for the portion now held. In the Council, as
everywhere else, the strange influence he could bring to bear upon
other men, and the power he possessed of infusing a portion of his
own superabundant energy into the minds of others, was continually
manifested; and he will long be remembered in the Council Chamber as
one of the most original thinkers, and one of the shrewdest observers,
that ever sat upon its benches.
But his name will, probably, be longer held in remembrance in
connection with the colossal fetes at Aston Park, in 1856, of which
he was the originator, and to the success of which he devoted himself
with untiring energy and unwearied industry. The idea of the fetes
originated at the "Woodman" on an evening in the spring of 1856. The
room, on this occasion, was nearly full; Walsh occupied the principal
seat. Not far from him was the versatile, erudite, somewhat dogmatic,
but always courteous and polite, John Cornforth. There too, was
Ambrose Biggs, who since, as Mayor, so fully justified the choice
the Corporation made when they elected him to be their head. Nearly
opposite was seen the gentlemanlike figure of poor Joseph Collins,
whose untimely death, a few years later, created an intense feeling of
sorrow in the minds of all who knew him. The worthy host, Jem Onions,
occupied his usual seat. At a short distance was seen the upright
figure and full round face of genial, but somewhat fussy, George Tye,
his countenance beaming with good nature, and his eye bright with the
light of poetic and artistic intelligence; and there also were many
others, whose names I cannot at this moment recall.
The conversation that night was more than usually animated, and
was carried on with much propriety and intelligence. Walsh led a
discussion on the folly of the Corporation in refusing to buy a
portion of Aston Park, including the Hall, which had been offered to
them, as he said, "dirt cheap." Biggs, a little way off, took up
a subject with which he was more intimately connected--the Queen's
Hospital, whose financial affairs, just then, were in a lamentable
state of collapse. One set of talkers in the room were intent upon the
one topic; at the other end, the other subject was uppermost. Thus the
two matters became somewhat "mixed up" in the ear of a listener, and
thus they suddenly jostled together in the mind of Walsh. All in a
moment the thought arose--"Why not borrow the park and give a
pic-nic for the hospital?" With him, such a matter required little
consideration; with him, to conceive was to act. In a few minutes he
was on his legs, and at some length, with considerable eloquence and
characteristic energy, he, amid the rapt attention of the company,
propounded the scheme which had suggested itself. He was followed by
other speakers; the scheme was rapturously received by the audience;
it was unanimously resolved that if the use of the park could be
obtained, the fete should be held; a deputation was appointed to wait
upon the proprietors of the park; and a provisional committee, with
Mr. Walsh as chairman, was elected to carry out the preliminaries.
No time was lost. In a few days the desired permission to hold a fete
in the park was obtained. Other gentlemen joined in the movement, and
a large and influential permanent committee was formed. Walsh took up
the matter with his usual energy and with most sanguine views.
This was to be no _mere pic-nic_ now! It was to be such a fete as
Birmingham had never witnessed, and would not readily forget. The
attractions were to be such as would draw people, from all quarters.
The preparations were to be on the most gigantic scale, and the
result was estimated by Walsh at a clear gain of L250 or L300 to the
hospital. Some of the more cautious thought the scheme a little wild,
and on far too extensive a scale for success; but the indomitable
chairman, who had fully considered the _pros_ and _cons_, threw into
the movement the whole force of his almost superhuman energy, and
carried conviction to the minds of the most timid of his colleagues.
The scheme was enthusiastically resolved upon, although, as Walsh
said, after the fetes were over, "Some of us were actually frightened
at what we had undertaken."
The fete was to be held on the 28th of July. It fell on a Monday. By
common consent business was to be suspended. As the day approached,
it became obvious, from the enormous demand for the tickets, that the
attendance would far exceed the expectations of the most sanguine.
Another 25,000 tickets were ordered from the printer, by telegraph.
The refreshment contractors were advised of the vastly increased
number of hungry customers they might expect. Bakers were set to work
to provide hundreds of additional loaves. Orders were given for an
extra ton or two of sandwiches. Scores more barrels of ale and porter
came slowly into the park, where, within fenced enclosures, they
were piled, two or three high, in double lines. Crates upon crates of
tumblers, earthenware mugs, and plates arrived. Soda water, lemonade,
and ginger beer were provided in countless grosses, and in fact
everything for the comfort and convenience of visitors that the most
careful forethought could suggest, was provided in the most lavish
profusion.
At length the day arrived. The weather was delightfully fine. The
village of Aston was gaily decorated; the Royal Standard floated from
the steeple, and the bells chimed out in joyous melody. The quaint
Elizabethan gateway to the park was gay with unaccustomed bunting.
The sober old Hall had a sudden eruption of colour, such as it had
probably never known before. Flags of all colours, and with strange
devices, met the eye at every turn. Waggon after waggon, laden with
comestibles, filed slowly into the park. The rushing to and fro of
waiters and other attendants showed that they expected a busy day
of it. As noon approached, train after train deposited at the Aston
station hundreds and thousands of gaily-attired Black Country people.
Special trains ran from New Street as fast as they could be got
in order; all the approaches to the park were crammed with serried
lines--three or four abreast--of omnibuses, waggons, cabs, carts, and
every other imaginable vehicle; whilst thousands upon thousands of
dusty pedestrians jostled each other in the crowded roads. Fast as
the ticket and money collectors could pass them through the gates,
continuous streams poured on for hours, until at length the number
of persons within the grounds exceeded the enormous total of fifty
thousands!
The old Hall was thrown open, and hundreds of people strolled through
its quaint rooms and noble galleries. The formal gardens were
noisy with unaccustomed merriment. From the terrace one looked
upon preparations for amusements, and old English games of all
descriptions. Platforms for dancing, and pavilions for musicians,
stood here and there. Beyond, in the valley, a long range of poles and
skeleton forms showed where the fireworks were in preparation. Down in
a corner stood a large stack of firewood through which, when lighted,
the "Fire-King" was to pass uninjured. Swings, merry-go-rounds, and
Punch and Judy shows were rare attractions for the young; and soon
the whole of that enormous assemblage of people, in the sunlight of a
glorious July day, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Suddenly, in one corner, there arose a deep-toned murmur, like the
sound of the roaring of the waves upon a broken shore. It deepened
in tone and increased in volume, until the whole area of the park
was filled with this strange sound. It was the noise of laughter
proceeding simultaneously from fifty thousand throats! From a
mysterious-looking shed in the valley opposite the terrace, Mr. John
Inshaw and some of his friends had just launched a balloon, shaped
like an enormous pig! Piggy rose majestically over that vast sea of
upturned faces, which he seemed to regard with much attention. But at
length, apparently disgusted at being so much laughed at, he started
off in the direction of Coleshill, and, to the intense amusement of
everybody, persisted in travelling tail foremost.
All classes were represented at the fete. Here you might see a group
of well-dressed folks from Edgbaston, next some pale-faced miners from
the Black Country, and then the nut-brown faces of some agricultural
people. All seemed intent upon fun and pleasure, and so, throughout
that long summer day, the crowd increased, and every one seemed to be
in a state of absolute enjoyment.
As evening wore on, other sources of interest arose. The famous
Sycamore Avenue--now, alas, going fast to decay--was lighted up
by innumerable coloured lamps. I am old enough to remember the
illuminations of the famous Vauxhall Gardens in London, but I never
saw there so fairylike a scene as that glorious old avenue at Aston
presented that evening.
Then came the fireworks! No such display had ever before been seen in
the Midland Counties. The nights of rockets, the marvellously-ingenious
set pieces, and the wonderful blue lights, gave intense delight; and the
grand chorus of "Oh! Oh! Oh!" when any specially brilliant effect was
produced, was something not to be easily forgotten; but the climax was
reached when, as a finale, the words
SAVE ASTON HALL
came out in glowing fire. Then the people shouted and applauded as
if they were frantic. And so, amid the gratulations of everybody, the
first of the Aston Fetes came to an end.
No sooner was the fete over, than a clamour arose as to the disposal
of the profit. It was argued that as the money raised had so far
exceeded expectation, it ought, in fairness, to be divided between
the two hospitals. Correspondence in the newspapers became warm, and
almost angry. Walsh was pestered with all sorts of suggestions, and
a deputation waited upon him, urging the "claims" of the General
Hospital. Walsh received them with politeness, but with reticence, and
they left dissatisfied. It was a difficulty, but Walsh was equal to
it. Summoning his committee, he urged that the fete having been given
for a specific purpose, that purpose must be fulfilled, and the whole
sum must go to the Queen's. "But," said he, "I'll tell you what we can
do: we can give a good round sum on account to the Queen's, and we can
get up another fete for the General." A bomb-shell could hardly have
created greater astonishment, and the project, at first, was met with
disfavour. It was thought that it would not "do" a second time; that
the novelty of the affair was over; that people would not go twice;
and that the result would be a failure. Walsh urged that what had been
done had only "whetted the appetite" of the public; that thousands
regretted not having been present; and that the result would be
certain success. His energetic advocacy carried the point, and before
the committee separated, a second fete, to be held on September 15th,
was resolved upon.
Meanwhile, it was resolved to hand over a cheque for L1,500, on
account, to the Queen's Hospital, which was accordingly done; and on
the 22nd of August, at a meeting of the Council of the Hospital, at
which Alderman Ratcliff presided, it was resolved (_inter alia_)
that Walsh should be elected a Life Governor; that a marble tablet
recording the event should be erected in the vestibule of the
hospital; and that a dinner should be given to the chairman, officers,
and committee of the fete, such dinner to take place at the "Woodman,"
where the fete originated. The dinner subsequently took place,
under the presidency of the late Mr. Thomas Upfill. It was stated
incidentally that the total receipts amounted to L2,222 12s. 5d.; that
donations had been received by the Fete Committee amounting to L93
13s.; and that they had secured annual subscriptions amounting to L26
14s. 6d.
Pending these matters, Walsh and his friends had not been idle.
Preparations for the second fete were commenced, and energetically
urged forward. Guided by experience, the work was somewhat less
laborious, but the dread of failure made the committee doubly anxious.
Just before, there had been great rejoicing in London to celebrate
the peace with Russia, and there had been a magnificent display of
fireworks in Hyde Park. It was known that a considerable quantity,
unused on that occasion, still lay in store at Woolwich Arsenal. Walsh
opened a correspondence with the authorities; went to London; and
finally induced the Government, not only to make a free grant of
the fireworks, but to send down a staff of skilled pyrotechnists to
superintend the display at the fete. Additional attractions in great
abundance were provided. The Festival Choral Society promised its
assistance, and everything augured well, if only the weather should be
fine.
Monday, September 15th, came at last. Fortunately, it was a very
beautiful autumnal day. Nearly all the shops in the town were closed,
and everybody talked of the fete. As the day wore on, the excitement
became intense. The town literally emptied itself into Aston Park. A
newspaper of the time, says, "from the corner of Dale End to the park,
the road was one continued procession of cabs, carts, and omnibuses,
four abreast." Trains disgorged their thousands, and from far and
near the people came pouring in, until, to the utter amazement of
everybody, the park was considerably fuller than on the previous
occasion, and the total number of visitors was estimated to be at
least 90,000.
Walsh was in his glory. With triumphant glee he mounted a chair on
the terrace, and began a short speech, with the words, "We're a great
people, gentlemen; we're a great people." He then went on to say that
he was "going to turn auctioneer," and a huge clothes basket full of
grapes--the entire contents of one of his own forcing houses--being
brought to him, he proceeded in the most facetious manner to offer
them, bunch by bunch, for sale, and he realised in this way a very
large addition to the funds of the fete.
But space fails, and the account of this, the second fete, must only
record that in every respect it was a success; that, over and above
the prodigious number of tickets that had been sold, the enormous
sum of L1,200 was taken _at the gates_ for admission; and that,
financially as well as numerically, it far exceeded its predecessor.
It only remains to add, that four days afterwards, Messrs. Walsh,
Cornforth, Biggs, and Collins attended the Board Meeting of the
General Hospital, and handed over a cheque for L1,700 on account;
that at the next committee meeting it was resolved that the aggregate
results of both fetes should be ascertained, and that the amount of
the entire profits of both should be divided in equal moieties between
the two hospitals.
So ended the great Aston Fetes, the memory of which, and their
financial results, will be perpetuated by the marble slab at the
Queen's Hospital, which bears the following inscription--
This Tablet records
that a Committee of Manufacturers and Tradesmen
of Birmingham
projected and carried out, on their own responsibility,
the two Fetes Champetre, which took place at Aston Hall and Park,
on the 28th day of July and the 15th day of September, 1856,
in aid, and towards the support and improvement,
of the Queen's and General Hospitals of the town,
by which they realised (after the payment of L1,663 3s. 2d. for
expenses) the sum of L5,054 12s. 4d.,
which was equally divided between the two institutions.
JOHN WALSH WALSH, Chairman }
JOHN CORNFORTH, Vice-Chairman } of the
AMBROSE BIGGS, Secretary } Fetes Committee.
JOSH. THOMAS COLLINS, Treasurer }
The late Prince Consort, who was President of the Queen's Hospital,
caused copies of the tablet to be prepared for presentation to each of
the four gentlemen named, and to Mr. Onions, at whose house the fetes
originated. Each copy bears the autograph signature of the Prince. I
saw one the other day, occupying a place of honour in the house of its
possessor, who showed it to me with manly pride, as a memento of his
share in the work of the great Aston Fetes.
G.F. MUNTZ, M.P.
The second Parliament of Queen Victoria was dissolved July 23rd, 1847.
Mr. Muntz had represented Birmingham in both, having been elected on
the retirement of Mr. Attwood, in January, 1840, and re-elected at the
general election in July, 1841. It was customary in Birmingham, before
the passing of the last Reform Bill, to hold, on the eve of elections,
a meeting of non-electors, in order that the working men, then outside
the franchise, should have a "voice," although they had no vote, in
the choice of the Members for Birmingham. From 1844 Mr. Spooner had
represented the town, but on this occasion the Liberal electors were
determined, if possible, to eject him. Mr. William Scholefield opposed
his re-election. There was another candidate, Mr. Sergeant Allen, but
as he only polled 89 votes he may, for the present purpose, be left
out of the question. The contest lay between Mr. Spooner and Mr.
Scholefield. The leaders of the Liberal party naturally supposed
that the candidature of Mr. Scholefield would have the support of
Mr. Muntz, and that the two Liberal candidates would be able to work
together, having a joint committee. To the astonishment of the whole
town, Mr. Muntz resolutely declined to have anything to do with Mr.
Scholefield or his friends. Upon this becoming known, there was great
dismay in the Liberal camp, and Mr. Muntz became very unpopular. All
kinds of proposals were made to induce him to change his mind, but he
remained obstinate, and, in addition, stubbornly refused to canvass
for himself, or to allow his friends to canvass in his name.
Matters stood thus when the meeting of non-electors was held in the
Town Hall. It was a very hot afternoon, and the hall was crammed.
The leaders of the Liberal party took, as usual, the right of the
chairman, and filled the principal seats in front. Mr. Muntz was
"conspicuous by his absence." The proceedings had gone on for some
time, and on the name of Mr. William Scholefield being proposed as a
candidate, the whole audience rose enthusiastically, and the Town Hall
rung with cheers, such as the Liberals of Birmingham know so well how
to bestow on a Liberal favourite or a Liberal sentiment. In the midst
of this demonstration, when the meeting was in a state of fervid
excitement, George F. Muntz quietly came up the orchestra stairs, and
took unobserved a seat upon a back bench, near the organ. I was within
two yards of him. He wore a brown holland blouse, and had with him a
paper bag, and as he placed his hat on the seat beside him, he emptied
the contents of the bag into it. As he did so I saw that he had
provided himself with half-a-dozen oranges.
In the course of the speeches that were made, much regret was
expressed at the determination of Mr. Muntz to stand aloof from the
party in this election, and it was hinted that if the Conservatives
should retain the seat, Mr. Muntz personally would be to blame.
Muntz heard it all pretty quietly, and at length, greatly to the
astonishment of most who were there, who were not even aware of his
being present, his stalwart figure rose, like an apparition, at the
back of the gallery. Standing on a seat so as to make himself seen,
he shouted out, "Mr. Chairman!" The applause which greeted him was
met with sober silence by Mr. Scholefield's friends. He went on--I
remember his very words--"I was going into the Reform Club the other
day, and on the steps I met Joe Parkes: you all know Joe Parkes. Well,
he said to me, 'I say, Muntz, you must coalesce with Scholefield.' I
said, 'I shan't do anything of the sort; it is no part of my duty to
dictate to my constituents who shall be my colleague, and I shan't do
it.' 'Well,' he said, 'if you don't, I shall recommend the electors
to plump against you.' Well, I gave him a very short and a very plain
answer: I told him they might plump and be damned!" The uproar, the
laughter, the shouts that ensued cannot be adequately described. In
the midst of the din, Muntz coolly stooped, took a large orange from
his hat, bit a piece out of it, which he threw away, and then
facing that mighty and excited crowd, proceeded to suck away in as
unconcerned a manner as if no one were present but himself. When the
noise had somewhat subsided, he commenced an elaborate defence of his
conduct, and said he had been taunted with being too proud to ask for
the votes of the electors. "That's not the reason," he said; "I knew
I had done my duty as your representative, and that I deserved your
votes; and I knew that I should get them without asking; but if it is
any satisfaction to anybody, I take this opportunity to ask you
now, collectively, to vote for me. As for your second vote, that has
nothing to do with me. Choose whom you may, I shall work cheerfully
with him as a colleague, and I have no fear of the result."
This little speech was altogether characteristic of the man. It
showed his stubborn wilfulness, his intense egotism, his coarseness of
manner, and his affectation of eccentricity. But it exhibited also the
fact that he thoroughly understood that he was liked by the bulk of
Birmingham people, and that he knew the majority of unthinking men
would take his bluntness for manliness, and his defiance of the
feelings and opinions of his political associates, for sturdy and
commendable independence. He alienated many friends by his conduct on
this occasion, but he won his election, coming in at the head of
the poll. By dint of strenuous exertions--made necessary by his
obstinacy--Mr. Scholefield came in second. The poll stood at the
close--Muntz, 2,830; Scholefield, 2,824; Spooner, 2,302; Allen, 89.
From this time till his death, ten years later, he and Mr. Scholefield
held their seats without further opposition.
In the House of Commons he succeeded, mainly by force of lungs, in
gaining attention; but he was looked upon as a political oddity, whose
utterings were amusing, if nothing more. The only good I remember him
to have done as a Member of Parliament was inducing the Government of
the day to adopt the perforating machine in the manufacture of postage
stamps.