Georgian Terraces Nᵒ.1: Paradise Street

Held at Birmingham Archive.

The Georgian terrace was, as Harry Mount states, 'the most popular building in Britain'.** They were an excellent choice for expanding towns, box shaped and placed side by side they took up little room, but there was still often space for expansion to the front and to the rear. Birmingham utilised this to a high degree, building shops and even manufactories on the front of grand terraces, and ever expanding onto the rear gardens with manufactories, warehouses and with even more dwelling houses.

Terraces were built in a remarkably similar way across the country; take the houses on Paradise Street, above.These were brick terraces from about the 1760s; there is a basement accessed through a gate in the railings, and then the ground floor entrance is reached by a short flight of steps. The ground floor sashes (windows) are slightly shorter than those of the first floor, and the attic sashes are much shorter again; the attic was usually where the servants would sleep, and their working quarters (the kitchen and wash-room etc) would be in the basement. The roof is neatly concealed by the parapet which is itself decorated with the cornice. Whatever the individual style of the terrace they followed these basic principles.

The terraces in the photograph were also captured in Samuel Lines Senior's late 1840s painting of the area which is now Victoria Square (above). You can see them opposite the Town Hall, where they stood till they were replaced by a new Post Office building in the 1870s.

Paradise Street was lined, mostly, with these smart middle-class terraces, in 1830 the street was;

'the residence [...] of several highly respectable professional gentlemen, as well as the establishments of some eminent merchants and manufacturers; among the latter, are the bronze, chandelier, lamp, lustre manufactory, and gas apparatus concerns of Mr. T. C. Salt, who has also an establishment in London. Mr. Mole also has a manufactory in Paradise-street, of bronzes, or-molus, &c. Some recent productions of this gentleman, do him great credit; his models from celebrated engravings, and the fine casts from them in bronze, or-molu, &c. are beautifully executed, and are a novelty in the market. [...] There are several other respectible gentlemen in this street, who manufacture plated goods, and coach harness brass mountings; here also, is the extensive manufactory of Papier Mache and japanned articles, of Messrs. Small and Son.'*

Even in a street filled with these 'highly respectible professional gentlemen' the spaces that lay behind the terraces were packed with manufactories, whilst maintaining genteel frontages. This was one of the attractions of the terrace, they could be adapted for many different purposes and by different classes. Houses for the wealthier were larger, they had more floors and would often have more detailing and decoration. The houses photographed were relatively plain, but over the road were some slightly smarter terraces, left, with bay fronts set with sashes. The line of terraces here shows that the streets were not always uniform in appearance; wealthier individuals could build their houses as a status symbol to stand out from those around. It all depended on whether the houses were built in a single block by one developer or whether the land was sold off piece by piece. The centre of Birmingham was generally always a mish-mash of styles, but as houses were built on virgin land the styles tended to be more uniform in design. Only fast growing towns could achieve this look.

The raised section in front of the terraced houses, above, would have been produced when the foundations were built; the land for the 'terrace'*** would have needed to be flattened and the excess earth placed in front of the new buildings. This, on Paradise Street, was kept raised from the road and an iron railing* was added for safety. The road itself was paved with wooden blocks.*

Other Georgian Terraces

NOTES
* References on request.
** Harry Mount, A Lust for Window Sills (2008)
***The word 'terrace' comes form the flat land (often made flat) that the houses were built on, so houses at stages aren't true terraces even though they may join in a line.

Newspaper Clippings: 'Refined' & 'Unrefined' Entertainments

From Aris's Birmingham Gazette, 19 November 1827.

Click on the orange links to explore the Regency Birmingham where the 'news' was taking place.
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The unrefined entertainment of the week is bull-baiting, which was being heavily cracked down on by the 1820s, though in the Black Country, and especially in towns like West Bromwich and Wednesbury the 'sport' was still deeply rooted in the social life; cock and dog fighting too. To find other posts about bull-baiting in Birmingham and the surrounding area click here.

For what was deemed to be refined entertainment, why not visit the Theatre Royal which has a great line-up playing Hamlet and Italian Opera.

Portraits Nᵒ.3: The Mystery Sitter

Painting in the BMAG collection. Original painting is hung in the
Best Drawing Room at Aston Hall.

When BMAG (Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery) received this painting in 1979 they had no idea who it was of or whom it was by. After some research it was thought that it could be by the Birmingham based artist James Millar, and the sitter being the surveyor, William Westley the younger, due to the portfolio with the image of St. Philip's church conveniently protruding from the leaves. BMAG would love to find any evidence that this is indeed William Westley, or to prove any different conclusion, so if anyone has any information, please let me know.

There are a few problems with this portrait being both of William Westley and by James Millar, as although Westley was alive when Millar was painting, he would have been an elderly man. Westley was born in about 1700, and Millar (born in about 1735) began his painting career in about 1763. The sitter does not seem to be a man in his 60s or 70s, which would cast some doubt on the pairing. But perhaps the painting was commissioned after Westley's death, possibly based on an earlier portrait, to show Westley in his youth.

Another anomaly is the drawing of St. Philip's itself; Westley produced a north prospect of St. Philip's church in 1732, but the drawing in the portfolio looks like the engraving of the north of the church produced by architect and architectural writer, Colen Campbell, for his Vitruvius Britannicus which was published in three volumes between 1715 and 1725 (see left). Campbell himself died in 1729, and had no relation to Birmingham apart from visiting and writing about the Baroque St. Philip's church. The architect of the church itself, Thomas Archer, died in 1743 aged 75.

A historian of fashion would serve well in dating the dress of the young man which would help in discovering if the painting was painted in Millar's time. James Millar painted many portraits of Birmingham's inhabitants, including John Baskerville, John Freeth and Francis Eginton, but perhaps we may never know who is sitting in the painting staring back at us, with their connection to, what is now, our cathedral.

Newpaper Clippings: Fashionable Winter Articles

From ARIS'S BIRMINGHAM GAZETTE, 7 November 1791













SCANDAL: Well worth a read is this tale of 'a most handsome, athletic' young con-artist called Griffin, a run-away gentleman's daughter and a shooting. Griffin and the young lady had arrived at the Hotel in Birmingham, but it was soon discovered that she was not his sister after all.

Japanned Things: Fire Balloons - The First Small Step

~Japanned tray depicting Mr Sadler’s ascension from Birmingham's Crescent on 13th October 1823. From the BMAG collection on display at the Birmingham History Galleries. ~

Ballooning was one of the most novel entertainments of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries as it marked the beginning of man taking off from the planet; a new and exciting prospect. The first aviators were adventurers and daredevils, made all the more exciting by the flying balloons that they ascended in being called fire balloons. They were simply hot air balloons, but the idea of going to see a fire balloon take off definitely had a more dramatic sound to it. The first Englishman to take off was James Saddler (1753-1828) who took flight in London in October 1784 (the first Englishwoman, Mrs. Sage, ascended in June 1785). The spectacle spurred others to take balloons and travel around the country to put on balloon ascensions for paying spectators. A Mr. Harper was the first to arrive in Birmingham, in January 1785, taking off twice, the second time from a tennis court in Coleshill Street.* Ballooning could be a dangerous feat, accidents did occur, but although often not fatal, Mr. Sadler's own son, Windham Sadler, was killed in an accident in 1824.*

It was not till October 7th, 1811, that Mr. Sadler arrived to a great crowd in Birmingham's Vauxhall Gardens; it was his 21st ascent and a commemorative coin, left, was struck for the notable event.

By the time of the balloon ascension in 1823 commemorated on the tray, above, James Saddler was 70 years old, and it was one of his sons (either Windham or his other aeronaut son, John) who took flight from the Crescent.** The ropes were held by local school boys; the crowd paying 3s 6d each, all apart from a Mr. James Busby who paid 20 guineas to take his place inside the balloon's basket. The massive crowd filled the Crescent with 'shouts of an almost countless multitude';* a Mr. G. R. Bird, who ran a wharf on the canal near the Crescent, and who may have invested some money in the day's events, recorded in his diary that at 'a quarter before 3 o'clock Mr Sadler Junior went up in a fire balloon from the Crescent accompanied by James Busby, [and it] was seen for 20 minutes, took direction of Hagley and descended safe in a field near Kinver or Enville. The balloon was up 25 minutes and went 17 mile'. The balloon must have been quite a sight, not just for the paying spectators, but also anyone in the near vicinity. It was a rare sight as well, and must have captured the imagination of the country, as from at least 1787 stage coaches began being called 'balloon coaches'. We think of a balloon ride today as slow and relaxing travel, but in the late eighteenth century this was the fastest mode of inland transport (if not the most accurate) and perhaps coach proprietors used the name to assert their coaches as being speedy vehicles.  They were fire balloons after all!

NOTES
What to wear for a balloon ascent, 1785.
* References on request
** The Crescent was a development of smart town houses, planned to be like the Crescent in Bath, but never completed.

Newspaper Clippings: The Balloon Coach

~From Aris's Birmingham Gazette, 7 May 1787~
BIRMINGHAM and LONDON BALLOON COACH
The advert depicts the cost of coach travel at the time, which would have been completely out of the reach of the poor. It makes me wonder how the poorest, who did move about from country to town, and from town to town, transported themselves and their families. Note, also, how the proprietors protect themselves from the possibility of highway robbery by stating that they are not accountable for valuable goods.

Tour of Lost Birmingham Nᵒ.29: The Battle of the Theatres (New Street)

The Theatre on New Street on fire in 1792, produced by W. Pursall of
Dale End.

I haven't explored the Theatre much on this blog yet, one of the most prominent and admired buildings in the town, so thought that I might introduce it now: ablaze. After several unsuccessful attempts to set the Theatre alight, 'the inhabitants of Birmingham were alarmed by the cry of Fire!'* in the early hours of the morning of 17 August 1792. Within a short time of discovery, the whole building was engulfed and completely destroyed by the fire, all apart from the elegant stone facade which remained for another 100 years.

There were two theatres in Birmingham from the mid 1770s, the King Street Theatre, opened in 1752, and the New Street interloper, opened by the old manager of King Street, actor Richard Yates. Both venues battled with the other for primacy and to become 'the Theatre'. In 1774 when the New Street Theatre opened, the one on King Street was enlarged and 'beautified', but beautifying was not the only tool in the battle of the theatres, there was much criticism of the kind of performances put on to attract poorer spectators at reduced rates and paying workers in theatre tickets to keep down expenses.* Neither theatre had the royal license required for holding plays, but found ways around that barrier, usually by surreptitiously inserting plays as 'interludes' between musical concerts. Attempts to obtain licenses were blocked by some, such as many in the Society of Friends, and the Evangelical minister Rev. John Parsons who believed the theatre 'productive of idleness and dissipation'. Much criticism seemed to surround the idea that the industrious workers would neglect their duties to go to the theatre instead.

The New Street Theatre attempted to get a license in 1777,** promising critics that 'rope dancing, tumbling [and] puppet shows' would cease (the root of all evil, as we all know) and that the season would be limited to within June and September only, the London off-season. This bid was backed by Matthew Boulton who felt that theatrical performances produced by a single licensed theatre-house would improve the manners of the working people of the town and:

'prevent them from relapsing into the barbarous amusements which prevailed in this neighbourhood in the last century [...] Their diversions were bull baiting, cock fightings, boxing matches and abominable drunkenness [...] But now the scene has changed. The people are more refined and civilized, and the taste of their manufactures much improved.'

If Birmingham could be seen as a more 'refined and civilized' place, this of course meant that merchants like Boulton could promote their high quality goods more easily to widening middle class markets, and it would also attract more tourism to the town, and to manufactories like Boulton's at Soho. The entreaty fell flat though, and in the June of 1777 continuing rivalry meant that both theatres were closed by the magistrates until the summer of 1779. Those that wished for the return of plays met at the Old Cross in January 1778 and decided that one licensed theatre was preferable to two unlicensed ones, the New Street playhouse being preferred. In 1780 the New Street Theatre finally built the new facade designed by Samuel Wyatt that had been discussed since before the theatres were closed as well as adding a 'publick Coffee Room', which by the year of the fire had become the Shakespeare Tavern and a number of houses on the land of the theatre for added revenue.* The theatre, with its new facade, was described as 'the most elegant and certainly the best theatre for summer performances of any in this kingdom'.* It seems to be an attempt to win critics over with architecture; classical styling promoted theatre as an intellectual and civilised pursuit. The New Street Theatre tried to promote this idea by accommodating travelling lectures on science, fundraising for the Sunday Schools and putting on patriotic plays during the American War of Independence.

The end of the rivalry came in 1786 when the King Street Theatre finally closed; the town could not support two theatres, and New Street had won the battle for survival, simply becoming the 'Theatre'; though it did not obtain its license till 1807, thus becoming the Theatre Royal. So, it was not the rivalry that caused the fire in 1792, but, theatre as a leisure pursuit was still frowned upon by many and it was generally thought that the fire was a radical attempt to erase the playhouse and all its supposed negative influence from the streets of Birmingham once and for all. The plan failed, and by popular demand and with the help of the theatre-going public the Theatre reopened in June 1795. It had been  rebuilt by George Saunders of London and Charles Norton of the Cresent in Birmingham, though retaining Samuel Wyatt's 1780 facade; and I will be taking you inside this theatre in a forthcoming post.

Focus on the Illustration


Next door to the Theatre was Portugal House, above, Joseph Green's splendid home. Here you can see his furniture piled outside the front, presumably with Mr. Green himself, the renowned dandy, standing in the doorway. His house did not catch fire. ~
The following sections depict: 1) a man holding a hose directing water at the theatre, 2) armed guards patrolling outside Mr. Green's house (perhaps his servants), 3) an unknown 'event'; perhaps those who consumed this image after its production were aware of what this section was depicting, but the meaning seems now lost, and 4) part of the crowd of spectators.

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2.

3.

4.









NOTES
External Links: eighteenth century theatre
* References on request
** King Street also, unsuccessfully, applied for a license in 1778

Tour of Lost Birmingham Nᵒ.28: A New Theatre on New Street

Inside the Swan Inn on High Street on 10 August 1773 a group of enthusiastic manufacturers and tradesmen met with the intention of opening a new playhouse, each subscribing a certain amount of money for the venture. The group elected the celebrated actor Richard Yates to manage the establishment, a friend of David Garrick, the well know actor who managed London's Drury Lane Theatre Royal making it one of Europe's leading theatres. Yates himself had been managing what would become the new theatre's Birmingham rival, the King Street Theatre. Land near New Street was chosen, the site of a Mr. Greenwood's orchard. Joseph Green, one of the subscribers to the theatre who owned one share, took land adjoining to build his new grand house (visit here), and at least one meeting of the subscribers, in 1776, was held at Mr. Green's house.* Green and the New Street Theatre had a number of disputes over land boundaries though, but the proximity of Green's house to the theatre was probably most keenly felt when the latter was set on fire in 1792.

The New Street Theatre was built by Thomas Saul, a Birmingham builder and surveyor, and opened on 20 June 1774; the first performance was recorded in the local paper:

'On Monday last the new Theatre in this Town wes opened with the Comedy of 'As you like it' and the Entertainment of 'Miss in her Teens; a Prologue (said to be written by Mr Foote) was spoke by Mr Yates, which was suitable to the Occasion, and very well received by the Audience. The drawing up of the Curtain about the Middle of the Prologue, discovering a most magnificent Scene of a Palace, had a very fine Effect, and was received with a prodigious Burst of Applause. The different Parts of the plays performed this week have been well-filled, and the Performers on general met with universal Approbation. Particular Encomiums are due to Mr Columba, from the King's Theatre, who painted the Scenes,** which are allowed to be as well executed as any in London. The Audience each Night has been brilliant and numerous, [...] -One Circumstance we are sorry to remark - that several of the Gentlemen that appeared in the Boxes were dressed in a very improper Manner for so conspicuous a Place, and it is recommended to them in future to pay more Respect to the Ladies, by dressing themselves in a Manner suitable to the Company, and as Gentlemen should, who appear in the Boxes.'*

The Gentlemen, improperly dressed in the boxes, were given a bit of a telling off; theatre going could not be seen as refined and respectible (as it needed to be to defend against attacks from many critics) if theatre-goers did not arrive in the proper mode of dress. This kind of behaviour also distinguished provincial theatres from the London ones, and it was these differences that many wished to be lessened.

The coin, above, is a very rare token owned by Birmingham Museum, produced for the New Street Theatre to allow free entry for the bearer.* Shakespeare is depicted on one side with the words 'WE SHALL NOT LOOK UPON HIS LIKE AGAIN', and on the reverse 'FREE TICKET FOR BIRMINGHAM THEATRE 1774' with a space above; the space filled with the engraved name of Mr. Faulcanbridge. Thomas Faulconbridge, like Joseph Green, was a subscriber to the theatre, he was actively involved in the venture till his death, and chaired a number of the meetings. There is another of these coins in the posession of Birmingham Museum, in silver, and with the name 'Jos.h Green's' engraved into the space. Historian David Symons suggests that the silver coins belonged to the subscribers, allowing them free entry to the theatre, whilst the copper coins were given to others by those named. I wonder that both the coins allowed only the named persons, the paying subscribers, in for free; it does not seem good business sense to be allowing friends of subscribers free entrance, but Joseph Green was well known as a dandy; he was often called 'Beau Green', and with the need for flamboyant 'bling' that any self respecting dandy would need, Joseph may have had his token struck in silver as a status symbol. Only the discovery of more of these tokens though, would shine light on either of these proposals.

NOTES
* References on request
** The older King Street Theatre had an ongoing rivalry with the New Street establishment after its opening, but it is unsurprising after it stole its successful manager, Richard Yates, and then pilfered the talents of the scene painter as well.

Dinner at Three & Tea at Six

In July 1779 Catherine Hutton accepted an invitation to dine and take tea with a Birmingham friend, Mr. Shuttleworth. Her description of the evening offers an intriguing insight into the social life of the Georgian middle classes in Birmingham, and the kinds of food served.

"At three o'clock we sat down to table, which was covered with salmon at top, fennel sauce to it, melted butter, lemon pickle and soy; at the bottom a loin of veal roasted; on one side kidney beans, on the other peas, and in the middle a hot pigeon pie with yolks of eggs in. To the kidney beans and peas succeeded ham and chickens, and when everything was removed came a current tart. Mr. Shuttleworth's behaviour was friendly and polite; he was attentive to the wants of his guests, and helped them to everything they wanted in a moment, without the least appearance of ceremony. He is sensible and lively, and I think the most of a gentleman of any man I ever knew. After dinner we had water to wash, and when the cloth was taken away, gooseberries, currents and melon, wines and cyder. Mr Shuttleworth asked me for a toast, and I gave him Mr. Rolleston, by whom we had been most elegantly entertained in that very room some years before. At a little before five, my mother, Sally Cocks, and I retired into the drawing room, where I amused myself with reading and looking at the prints till six, when I ordered tea, and sent to let the gentlemen know it was ready. Mr. Purcell and my uncle went away, Mr. Shuttleworth, Mr. Collier, and Mr. Silver came and drank tea with us, which I made for them. After tea Mr. Shuttleworth and I chatted very sociably about Matlock, to which place he goes to-morrow. At seven o'clock we took leave, after having spent a most agreeable day."*

It is interesting to see how the men and women separated after dinner and then reunited for tea at six. Catherine doesn't mention any food coming with the tea, but perhaps that went without saying.

~ Painting:

Still Life Tea Set, by John Liotard. 1783.

Tour of Lost Birmingham Nᵒ.27: Suffield's Druggist Shop (Corner of Congreve and Ann Street)

Section of Samuel Lines Senior's painting of the
area by the Town Hall in the late 1840s, with
insert of Samuel Wilson Suffield's druggist's
shop window. The full painting is on display
in the Birmingham History exhibition at BMAG.

During the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, the difference between the apothecary and the druggist was subtle. Apothecaries had originally been spicers and/or grocers, but had split to form their own guild in London in 1617. The apothecary would be trained to some degree and would also visit and treat patients, whilst the druggists would just prepare and dispense medicines. In the early 1800s the apothecaries argued that they should have control of making up medicines and tried to get an act passed in Parliament; the druggists won the day though, when in 1815 the Apothecaries Act kept control with the druggists. The apothecary's role has developed into that of our GP's and the role of the druggist can be seen as to have evolved into our modern chemists, but confectioners can also trace their ancestry back to druggists and apothecaries as many modern sweets have developed from medicines. In fact, the bright colours and alluring jars of an old-fashioned sweet shop shout-out "apothecary shop" more than any branch of Boot's Chemist.

Find out more about Birmingham's historic health and wellbeing, here.

In the late 1840s, artist Samuel Lines captured the druggist's window of Samuel Wilson Suffield's shop, which was situated near the Town Hall.** Suffield had run his business at the castellated shop from around the late 1810s (before Suffield the shop was run by William Allin as a tailor's and cabinet of curiosities, you can visit this shop here). The druggist, or apothecary, would display their skills by mixing chemicals to produce vivid colours which would then be placed in large glass jars in the shop window; you can see them on display in Suffield's window in the close-up above.

Some suppliers were unscrupulous and mixed drugs with cheaper, and sometimes dangerous substances in order to make more profit. It was often hard to control these practices as imported goods could be tampered with before they arrived in the hands of even the wholesale druggist. Suffield seems to have had some trouble with one such supplier: D. Carr and Co. The article below, from June 1828, describes how he had to replace his entire stock from the 'most respectible houses' obviously after some unmentioned incident. What is interesting, though, is that it lists in some detail, a selection of some of the products that he supplied and their cost, and shows how the druggists work intertwined with making chemicals for cleaning.

 

Inside a Druggist's Shop

 

Image of an apothecary from The Book of Trades or Library of Useful Arts,
Part I, printed in 1804.

Druggist's drawers from a Hall Green shop, in the collection of
Birmingham Museums and Art Gallery.

.

NOTES
The BMAG website is here.
Another Birmingham apothecary touched upon is in my post: Pratchett's Bull Ring, and another briefly in 'I have forever quited Birmingham'
** Samuel Wilson Suffield went bankrupt in 1844, I have been unable to discover whether he continued in business after bankruptcy. The druggist shop was definitely closed by 1849 when the Bryan family opened their coffee, pastry and confectionery shop in the building.

Tour of Lost Birmingham Nᵒ.26: "I have for ever quitted Birmingham as a home" (High Street)

William Hutton's house and shop in High Street, Birmingham, as it was
being taken down in 1928. It was the events that occurred at this house in 1791,
as well as elsewhere in Birmingham, that caused Hutton's daughter Catherine
to declare that she would never live there again.
Held at Birmingham Archive.

Catherine Hutton stated in 1791 'I have for ever quited Birmingham as a home', no-one knew if she meant it, but she never did return to live in Birmingham again, and she had good reason to want to stay away. The 14th of July 1791 was the day of the King and Country Riots, it all boiled up after a few men met at the Hotel to celebrate the anniversary of the storming of the Bastille and the ideals of the French Revolution. Here, a few windows got smashed, but the riot soon spread across Birmingham and most houses did not get off so lightly, many were burnt to the ground, though William Hutton's house on High Street was saved that fate as the neighbours protested in fear that it may spread to their own homes. The rioting was targeted towards religious dissenters*; research and conjecture as to why this was the case could fill an essay in themselves, so here I will only note that William Hutton was a dissenter, and one, like many others in Birmingham, who had done well for himself in business. He ran his shop as a stationers on High Street, where he lived above, but also had a large house a little out of Birmingham on Washwood Heath where his wife, who suffered from illness, and daughter Catherine usually resided. That house did get burnt down, but here I will explore what happened on High Street.

Catherine was with her mother at Washwood Heath when the rioters called on her father and brother in High Street on the 15th, the day after the riots began. Dissenter Meeting Houses had already been burnt to the ground, as well as Joseph Priestley's, John Ryland's and John Taylor's houses. William Hutton had not been at the dinner at the Hotel, but he was a Unitarian (dissenter), and as well as that, he was also a Commissioner at the Court of Requests, dealing with those who owed debts. Hutton stated himself, that 'armed with [this] power, I have put a period to thousands of quarrels, have softened the rugged tempers of devouring antagonists, and, without expense to themselves, sent them away friends. But the fatal rock upon which I split was, I never could find a way to let both parties win. If ninety-nine were content, and one was not, that one would be more solicitous to injure me than the ninety-nine to serve me'. Hutton was known, when dealing with litigations, for his statement 'thee pay sixpence, and come again next Friday' (Friday was when the court was held); as the mob threw his possessions out of the windows of his house it was recorded that they shouted 'who bids for this?' to which the reply came 'thee pay sixpence, and come again next Friday'.

When the mob gathered before William Hutton's shop** on High Street on the afternoon of the 15th he tried to buy them off with money, even borrowing from neighbours to continue paying; they demanded alcohol and gave them all he could, but when he could give them no more they took him to a local tavern (against his will) and drank 329 gallons on his credit. The destruction of the house began by first only smashing windows and knocking loudly on the doors. Catherine Hutton's brother, Thomas, had gone out to try and deal with them but was nearly attacked with a bludgeon before a friend came to his aid. Thomas then went to try and help save Mr. Taylor's house, but on finding that futile turned back and discovered furniture from his house in Digbeth, thus realising that the crowds had managed to break through the doors of his father's shop. Those inside had thrown paper 'out of the drawing room windows, and women [had carried] out aprons full of [the family's] property'. The neighbours were unwilling to help; those nearby had pleaded for the house not to be burnt to save their own properties, and Thomas Carless,*** who lived opposite, refused to take in paper that had been thrown out of the shop, or to allow the young Mr. Hutton to escape from the crowds through his house. The mob continued through the night, as Catherine Hutton's aunt visited the scene at about 4am and saw 'drawers, wardrobes, and clothes [...] being thrown out of the windows and prints being trampled on the street'. The mob had threatened the life of William Hutton, so at this point the family, who were staying with that aunt, decided to flee to Sutton.

Once the soldiers were employed to restore some order to Birmingham on the 17th the family returned from their exile. On High Street, the rioters had 'demolished all the doors, windows, chimney-pieces, wainscotts, skirting boards, and banisters, together with the roof of the house'. They had also attempted to remove the staircase, but had only reached the sixth step (before, presumably, they realised that they should have begun from the top and worked down). The Beadle of the Court had managed to save some of the Hutton's property and keep it in the Court of Requests, which was very near Hutton's shop; Catherine was also reunited with her guitar which a friend had bought from a rioter for sixpence. By the 19th of July, William Hutton had completed some repairs and was able to 'appear at business'; soon Thomas and the servants could sleep in the house, but William preferred to retire with his family in the country. Slowly the repairs were completed until it was business as usual and William remained trading in High Street till 1793 when he handed over the business to Thomas.

NOTES
William Hutton bought a house on High Street in 1772, but the house in the photograph was the one that he had built on that site in 1775.
Photograph courtesy of the Library of Birmingham.
~ References on request.
* Dissenters were Christians who had separated from the Church of England, often due to dislike of state intervention into religious matters, or believing in varying doctrines.
** Hutton was a stationer, he was the first person to Birmingham to make paper and ran his paper mill just out of Birmingham. He also sold books and ran a lending library, at a small charge.
*** Thomas Carless was a druggist, and uncle to Richard Pratchett who I wrote about in the post Pratchett's Bull Ring.

Tour of Lost Birmingham Nᵒ.25: Depriving Many a Poor Creature of Liberty (High Street)

Door of the Debtor's Prison, from the exhibition
Birmingham: it's people, it's history at BMAG.  

Visit the now demolished Debtor's Prison and the building that housed it, here. Find out about the Birmingham History Galleries which display this piece, here.

The plaque at the top of the door states "THIS DEBTORS PRISON DOOR STOOD IN HIGH STREET, BIRMINGHAM, DEPRIVING MANY A POOR CREATURE OF LIBERTY. NOTE THE BARS THRO WHICH CHARITABLE PASSERS-BY DROPPED COINS TO THE INMATES". Unlike the main prison, there was alot more sympathy towards the inmates in the debtor's prison, as many in business could be at risk of ending up there if their business dealings did not go well. The Debtor's Prison was tucked down an alley on Birmingham's High Street, inside the Court of Requests building.