exceedingly muscular, and must have possessed enormous physical
power. At a time when shaving was universal, he wore his beard. It is
generally believed that he never shaved. This is a mistake. He shaved
until he was nearly 40 years old. His youngest brother, Mr. P.H.
Muntz, the present M.P., as a young man had been sent for some years
to North Germany, and when he came home in 1833, he had a fine beard.
Mr. G.F. Muntz thereupon resolved to allow his to grow, and when he
went to Parliament this peculiarity attracted much notice. H.B., the
celebrated caricaturist, was not slow to make it the subject of one
of his inimitable sketches. In the collected edition there are 917 of
these famous pictures, all admirably drawn, and excellent likenesses.
Mr. Muntz is depicted in No. 643, under the title of "A Brummagem
M.P." The historical stick, the baggy trousers, and the flowing and
Homeric beard, are graphically represented. The reason given for his
carrying the stick was quite amusing. It was stated that the then
Marquis of Waterford had made a wager that he would shave Muntz, and
that Muntz carried the stick to prevent that larkish young nobleman
from carrying the intention into practice.
The family from which Mr. Muntz descended was originally Polish,
but for a few generations had been domiciled in France, where they
occupied a handsome chateau, and belonged to the aristocracy of the
country. Here the father of Mr. Muntz was born. At the time of the
Revolutionary deluge that swept over France, the Muntz family, in
common with so many hundreds of their countrymen, emigrated; and after
a time, a younger son, Mr. Muntz's father, who seems to have been a
man of great enterprise and force of character, became a merchant
at Amsterdam. This step was very displeasing to his aristocratic
relatives, but he followed his own course independently. In a few
months he left Amsterdam for England, and established himself in
Birmingham. At the age of 41 he married an English lady, Miss Purden,
she being 17 years of age, and they resided in the house in Newhall
Street now occupied by Messrs. Benson and Co., merchants, as offices,
where, in the month of November, 1794, Mr. George Frederic Muntz was
born. It is believed that his baptismal names were given him in honour
of Handel, the composer. At the time of his birth the house stood amid
fields and gardens, and the old mansion known as "New Hall," was in
close proximity, standing on the ground now occupied by the roadway
of Newhall Street, just where the hill begins to descend towards
Charlotte Street.
The mother of Mr. Muntz was a lady of great acquirements and
considerable mental power. She undertook the early education of her
son, and was singularly qualified for the work. At the age of 12 he
was sent to a school at Small Heath, kept by a Dr. Currie, where
he remained for one year, and from that time he never received any
professional instruction. He had, however, a hunger for knowledge that
was insatiable, and, with the assistance of his excellent mother, he
pursued his studies privately. He became very well up in ancient and
modern history. At a very early age he was associated with his father
in business, and soon became a very apt assistant. His father's
somewhat premature death in 1811 brought him, at the early age of 18,
face to face with the stern realities of life, for he became, so to
speak, the head of the family, and the mainstay of the two businesses
with which his father had been connected--the rolling mills in Water
Street and the mercantile establishment in Great Charles Street. There
he continued a hard-working, plodding; life for many years; but on the
fortunate discovery of the fact that a peculiar alloy of sixteen
parts of copper with ten and two-thirds of spelter made a metal as
efficacious for the sheathing of ships' bottoms as copper itself, at
about two-thirds the cost, he left the management of the old concerns
pretty much to his brother, the present Member, and devoted his own
energies to the development of the business of making "Muntz's Metal."
This business secured him a colossal fortune, and his name as the
fortunate discoverer is still familiar in every commercial market in
the world.
Mr. Muntz married early in life the daughter of a clergyman, by whom
he had a large family. He resided first at a pretty rustic place
overgrown with ivy, near Soho Pool, called Hockley Abbey. From thence
he removed to Ley Hall, near Perry Barr; and finally he went to
Umberslade Hall, near Knowle, where he resided for the remainder of
his life.
After the great commercial panic of 1825, the question of the proper
adjustment of the English currency became a prominent topic of
discussion, and various sections of society held contradictory
theories. A distinct school of thought upon this subject arose in
Birmingham, and comprised amongst its members some very able men of
all shades of general political opinion. It became famous, and its
theories being urged with great skill and ability, forced themselves
upon public attention. Mr. Muntz, as a very young man, embraced their
opinions, and advocated them by tongue and pen. In 1829 he wrote a
series of letters to the Duke of Wellington upon this subject, which
were marked by great ability. It was not, however, until the agitation
for the Reform Bill commenced that Mr. Muntz became much known as a
politician. He took up this cause with great ardour, and, being gifted
with considerable fluency of speech, a powerful voice, a confident
manner, and a handsome presence, he soon became immensely popular.
Thomas Attwood, Joshua Scholefield, and George Frederic Muntz were
the founders of the Political Union. The two former, as president and
vice-president respectively, were of course in the foremost rank, but
their young and ardent lieutenant, Muntz, was as powerful and popular
as they. His strong and manly voice, and bold outspoken words, had a
strange and powerful influence with his audiences. He was a popular
favourite, and when the Political Union held their first monster
meeting at Beardsworth's Repository, on January 25th, 1830, Muntz
was the chairman. As has been written of him, "His burly form,
his rough-and-ready oratory, his thorough contempt for all
conventionalities, the heartiness of his objurgations, and his
earnestness, made him a favourite of the people, and an acceptable
speaker at all their gatherings." When Earl Grey, who, as Premier, had
endeavoured unsuccessfully to pass a Reform Bill, resigned, and "the
Duke" took his place, bells throughout the country were tolled, and
black flags floated from many a tower and steeple. The country was in
a frenzy of anger and disappointment. A monster meeting was held on
Newhall Hill, and there, in half a dozen words, Muntz sounded the
knell of the new Tory Ministry. In tones such as few lungs but
his could produce, he thundered in the ears of attentive and eager
listeners the words, "To stop the Duke, run for gold." There were no
telegraphs in those days, but these words were soon known through the
country. A run commenced, such as had seldom been known before, and if
it had continued would have produced disastrous effects. The Duke
was furious. Warrants were prepared for the apprehension of Attwood,
Scholefield, and Muntz, for sedition; but the Ministry had not courage
to put them in action. The excitement became more and more intense,
and the great Duke, for the first time in his life, was compelled
to yield. He resigned, and the unsigned warrants were found in the
pigeon-holes at the Home Office by his successors.
The Tory party--Conservatives had not then been invented--seeing how
hopeless the struggle was in which they tried to defeat the nation,
gave way eventually, and the Reform Bill of 1832 became law. The
president and vice-president of the Political Union--Attwood and
Scholefield--became the first Members for Birmingham, and political
feeling was quiet for a time. It was soon seen, however, that,
although the people had taken the outworks, the citadel of corruption
had not yet been completely conquered. The church-rate question rose
to the front, and became a burning matter of dispute. In Birmingham,
on this question, public opinion ran very high. For many years the
church-rate had been sixpence and ninepence in the pound per annum.
This was felt to be a most intolerable burden by Churchmen themselves,
and the Dissenters thought it a most unjust and unrighteous
imposition. For some years there had been very angry discussions on
the subject, and most unseemly altercations at the vestry meetings.
On Easter Tuesday, the 28th March, 1837, a meeting was called for the
election of the churchwardens of St. Martin's, and for the making of
a rate. It was held in the Church. The Rev. Mr. Moseley, rector; Mr.
Joseph Baker, who at that time was clerk to Mr. Arnold, the Vestry
Clerk; Mr. Gutteridge, surgeon; Mr. Freer, and others, took their
places in a pew on the north side of the organ. Mr. Muntz, Mr. George
Edmonds, Mr. Pare, Mr. Trow, and others in great numbers, sat on
the south. The Rector took the chair, and proposed Mr. Reeves as
his warden for the coming year. To this, of course, there was no
opposition, but on the rector saying he should now proceed to elect a
people's warden, a row began. Mr. Pare contended that the rector--_ex
officio_--had no right to act as chairman while the parishioners
elected _their_ warden. Muntz proposed another chairman; the parish
books were demanded to be shown; but Mr. Baker put them under his feet
and stood upon them. Muntz mounted to the top of the pew and demanded
the books, and a scene of great disorder and riot ended in nothing
being done. The whole scene appears to have been one of indescribable
confusion. The rector was a timid, nervous man, who seemed during the
whole proceedings to have almost lost his wits. When Baker refused to
give up the books, a rush was made upon the rector's pew, amid cries
of "Pitch him over," "Get the books," &c. The panelling of the pew was
smashed to atoms. In the midst of the scene, Muntz's burly form was
seen, brandishing his well-known stick. Gutteridge is described as
"making incessant grimaces and gesticulations, in a manner which
induced the crowd to call him 'Punch,' and to ask him why he had
not brought 'Judy' with him." In fact, the whole proceeding was a
disgraceful brawl.
For his complicity in this business a criminal information was laid
against Muntz, and he was brought, with two or three others, to trial
at Warwick, before Chief Justice Park and a special jury. The charge
was "tumult, riot, and assault upon Gutteridge and Rawlins." The trial
commenced on Friday, March 30, 1838, and lasted three entire days. The
result was a virtual acquittal, Mr. Muntz having been found guilty
of "an affray," and not guilty on the other twelve counts of the
indictment. Campbell was counsel for the prosecution, and Wilde for
the defence, and some sparring took place between them. Campbell in a
very rude and insulting manner, _chaffed_ Muntz about his beard, and
Wilde retorted with considerable scorn. The cost of the defence was
over L2,000.
In January, 1840, upon the retirement of Mr. Attwood from Parliament,
Mr. Muntz became a candidate for the vacant seat, and was opposed by
the notoriously bigoted Tory, Sir Charles Wetherell. The association
of his name with the riots at Bristol a few years before did not add
to his prospects of success in Birmingham. It was thought, however,
that his relationship to Mr. Spooner would give him a chance, but the
poll showed 1,454 votes for Mr. Muntz, and only 915 for Sir Charles.
From the time of his entering the House of Commons, Mr. Muntz's
political and public character seems to have become deteriorated.
Whether increasing riches brought increasing conservatism of thought
can be hardly ascertained now; but there is no doubt that from this
time the hereditary aristocratic tendencies of his mind began to
gather force. The head of the paternal tree had long returned from
exile to the family chateau, and resumed the position of a landed
seigneur; and his son, George Louis Muntz, cousin of George Frederic,
had just been elected a Member of the French Chamber of Deputies. Why
should not the Muntzes become a family of equal position in England?
No doubt this feeling became a ruling passion, and influenced his
every thought.
Still, he was a very vain man, and had always told his friends,
publicly and privately, that at least _he_ was politically honest
and consistent; and he was desirous--spite of his change of views--to
retain this self-given character. Hence all sorts of eccentricities,
inconsistencies, and absurdities. Hence his constant habit of speaking
one way and voting another, and hence his morbid sensitiveness to
anything like adverse criticism. In fact, from this time he became
utterly incomprehensible, and but for the grateful recollection of the
many services of his younger days, would probably have found himself
deserted by his political friends.
At this time, too, the egotism, which in his later years became
more manifest, began to show itself. He evidently thought himself
_somebody_, and did not hesitate to say so on all occasions; until, at
length, it was painful to listen to a speech of his. I remember, about
the time of the Crimean war, when the organisation of the English
army was found to be so lamentably deficient, there was a society
established in Birmingham called by some such name as "The
Administrative Reform Association." A large meeting was held in
Bingley Hall, at which all the leading Liberals of the town were
present. George Dawson made a capital speech, and Muntz had "a long
innings." As we came out, poor Dawson said to me, "They won't be able
to print Muntz's speech verbatim." "Why not?" said I. "Why, my
dear fellow, no printing office in the world would have capital I's
enough."
I have spoken of his dislike to adverse criticism. No one, now, can
imagine how he would rage and fume if any newspaper dared to doubt the
wisdom of any remark of his. Why, he nearly killed poor Chidlow, the
bookseller; shaking him almost to pieces for merely selling a paper
in which he was severely criticised. While as for _The Birmingham
Journal_, no red rag ever fluttered in the eyes of a furious bull
ever caused more rage than the sight of that paper did to Muntz. That
_they_ should dare to doubt _his_ infallibility was a deadly crime and
an unpardonable sin.
In opposition to this paper, Muntz started a paper of his own, _The
Birmingham Mercury_, by which he lost a good deal of money, and did
little good. The debts in connection with this newspaper were not paid
until after his death.
He certainly was a psychical curiosity, and his ways were "past
finding out." He was bold and fearless physically, but there his
courage ended. He avowed himself to be a Republican, yet he was an
innate aristocrat. He was always declaiming against despotism and
tyranny in the abstract, yet he was domineering and arbitrary in his
household, in his family, and in his business. He affected primitive
simplicity, yet was one of the vainest of men. In fact, his whole
nature was a living contradiction.
About the year 1852 he lost, by death, his youngest daughter, to whom
he had been devotedly attached. This was a severe blow to him, and
from this time the robust physical frame began to exhibit tokens of
decay. His hair became gray, and streaks of silver were seen in his
magnificent beard. At the election in March, 1857, it was observed
that he had greatly changed. He continued to attend the House of
Commons until the end of May, when he was somewhat suddenly taken
severely ill. It was discovered by the medical attendants that
internal tumours, of an alarming nature, had formed, and from this
moment his recovery seemed hopeless. He bore his illness with great
firmness, although his weakness became pitiable, and the fine frame
diminished to a mere skeleton. He became at length unconscious, and on
the 30th of July, 1857, he quietly passed away in the presence of his
family.
The disposition of his vast wealth was marked by great eccentricity.
His will, when published, caused much adverse criticism, and
uncomplimentary epithets were freely used. Suffice it to say here,
that his property was most unequally, if not unfairly, divided amongst
his family, and that he did not leave a farthing to the Charities of
the town of his birth--the town which had done so much for him, and
for which he had always professed so much attachment.
JOSEPH GILLOTT.
About a hundred and fifty years ago, a gentleman, whose name I have
not been able to ascertain, owned the premises in Icknield Street
West, now known as Monument House, and in his garden, near the
house, he built the tall octagonal tower, now known as the Monument,
respecting the origin of which so many various legendary stories are
current. It was, no doubt, erected to enable its owner, who was an
astronomer, to obtain from its upper chamber a more extensive field of
view for his instruments, and thus to enable him to make observations
of the heavenly bodies when they were very low down in the horizon.
I am informed, however, by an old inhabitant of Edgbaston, that his
father told him, when a little boy, that it, was built by a gentleman
named Parrott, who formerly lived in the top house in Bull Street, at
the corner of Steelhouse Lane. This gentleman had removed to the house
now called Monument House, and built the "Monument" in his garden to
enable him--when from age he became too much enfeebled to enjoy it
himself--to watch from its upper storeys the sport of coursing, which
was extensively practised in the pleasant fields and meadows which
then surrounded the house. Be that as it may, it is certain that the
tower was, a century ago, known by the name of "Parrott's Folly."[A]
[Footnote A: In a Directory for the year 1800, Monument House is named
as the residence of Mr. Parrott Noel.]
From the top storey of this lofty building there was a very extensive
range of vision, but when first built there was little to be seen but
green fields and open country. Of the few buildings visible, Ladywood
House, still standing, occupied the foreground, and was surrounded by
a pleasant park. Apparently just beyond was the fine old mansion known
as New Hall, which stood where now Great Charles Street intersects
Newhall Street, the present roadway being the very site which the
house then occupied. St. Philip's Church was being built, and the
scaffold of its unfinished tower and dome looked like a huge net of
wickerwork. A little to the left, Aston Hall, in the clear atmosphere,
seemed only about a mile away. Beyond, on a gentle eminence, Coleshill
was distinctly visible, and in the far distance the tower of
St. Mary's Church at Coventry reared to the dim and hazy sky its
exquisitely tapered and most graceful spire.
I stood within this upper room, a few years ago, on a pleasant evening
in the summer-time. From its windows there is still a very extensive
view, but how changed! On all sides but one there is nothing to be
seen, under the dingy cloud of smoke, but a weary, bewildering mass of
dismal brick and mortar; and even on the north-west, where there are
still a few green fields and pleasant gardens in the neighbourhood
of the two reservoirs, the eye, reaching beyond there, comes upon the
dark and forbidding regions to the west of Dudley. As on that glorious
evening I turned my telescope to this point, I was startled by a very
curious sight. I had placed the instrument in such a manner that its
"field" was completely filled by the ruby-coloured disc of the setting
sun. As I looked, I saw the singular apparition of a moving "whimsey"
at the top of Brierley Hill, dark and black against the shining
surface. It was an extraordinary illusion, for it looked exactly as if
the rising and falling beam of the engine were attached to the surface
of the sun itself.
On the same side, I saw, almost at the foot of the tower on which I
stood, a little enclosed garden. It contained at one end a long, low,
pavilion-like building, and, here and there, some pleasant alcoves
and garden seats. I heard the sound of merry voices, and, I saw two or
three sets of gentlemen playing the game known by the unpoetical name
of "quoits." Upon inquiry I was told that this was the private ground
of the Edgbaston Quoit Club, a select body, consisting mainly of
well-to-do inhabitants of that pleasant suburb. By the courtesy of
one of the members, I was a few days afterwards conducted over these
premises. It was not a club day, so we were alone. The low pavilion,
was, I found, the dining-room of the club--for on club days the
members met to dine, as a preliminary to the play. It was plainly and
very comfortably furnished, and every arrangement seemed to have been
made that could conduce to the convenience of the members. At one end
was a long row of hat-pegs, and upon these, at various angles, hung a
singular assortment of garden hats and caps, of every imaginable shape
and colour. They were the _neglige_ head-coverings of the members,
and though altogether dissimilar in most respects, they were alike in
one--they were all of very large size.
Phrenologists tell us that the size of a man's head is indicative of
his mental power, and these hats certainly bore out the theory, for
their owners were mostly self-made men, and were, without exception,
men of mark. I will not mention the name of any of those now living,
but two of the largest hats there belonged respectively to Walter
Lyndon and Joseph Gillott.
Mr. Gillott, we are told, in a newspaper published soon after his
death, was "born of poor but honest parents." I should like very much
to inquire here, how it is that novel writers, magazine contributors,
and newspaper reporters always write "poor _but_ honest." Is there
really anything antithetic or antagonistic in poverty and honesty? To
my mind the phrase always seems offensive, and it will be well if
it is discontinued in the future. It is one of those little bits of
clap-trap so common among reporters, who use phrases of this kind
continually, without a thought as to their appropriateness.
However, Joseph Gillott was born in Sheffield about three months
before the present century commenced. His parents _were_ poor, but
they managed to give him a good plain education, and they taught him
self-reliance. They taught him, too, to train and cultivate the fine
faculty of observation with which he was naturally endowed. In very
early life, we are told, he, by forging and grinding the blades
of pen-knives, contributed greatly to the income of the parental
household. It is said that even at a very early age, his quick
perception and his acute nervous organisation enabled him to produce
much finer work than others of far greater experience in the same
trade, whose obtuseness had kept them in a state of comparative
drudgery all their lives.
When he became of age, and was "out of his time," the cutlery trade in
Sheffield was very much depressed, and he came to Birmingham, hoping
to obtain employment in a trade which, owing to a caprice of fashion,
was just then in an inflated condition. This was the business of
making steel buckles, and other articles of polished steel for
personal adornment. In this he was very successful, and soon after his
arrival in the town, he took a small house in Bread Street, a little
way down on the right from Newhall Street, and here he started
business for himself. He had no capital, but he had great skill. Mr.
S.A. Goddard, who used to buy from him, tells me that he made very
excellent goods, and "came for his money every week." He was a very
excellent workman, and possessing as he did the native perception of
fitness which we call "taste," he soon obtained abundance of orders,
and became prosperous.