In 1875 a paragraph appeared in most of the daily papers, announcing the death of “an old Mr. Attwood,” who was declared to have been a bachelor, and “the giver of all the £1,000 cheques.” It was further stated that he had given away £350,000 in this way—£45,000 within the last year; that he had died intestate, leaving a fortune of more than a million , and that a thousand-pound note was found lying in his room as if it had been waste paper. The truth of the matter, as we are informed by a connection of the family, is this. Mr. Benjamin Attwood was a brother of Mr. Thomas Attwood, who was well known forty years ago as a leader of the Birmingham Political union, and one of the first members for that . He was not a bachelor, but a , and the fortune which he has left is believed to be much less than the above-named sum, though its exact amount is not yet known. After making a competent fortune by his own industry, Mr. Attwood, some time ago, inherited enormous wealth from a nephew, the late Mr. Matthias Wolverley Attwood, M.P., and he to dispose of this accession to his income by giving it partly to his less prosperous kinsfolk, and partly to charitable associations. He would often call at a hospital or other institution, and leave £1,000, asking simply for an acknowledgment in the Times, and never allowing his name to be published. In this way he distributed larger sums than that mentioned in the original . It would be wrong to regard Mr. Attwood as an eccentric man. His life was quiet, gentlemanlike, and unassuming, with no special , and his only for secret almsgiving was the desire to do good in an unobtrusive manner. He was one p. 121of those truly charitable men who loved to do good without letting his left hand know what his right hand did, and he would probably have been better pleased had his secret been kept after his death as well as it was during his life.
They are fortunate men these Crœsuses, and don’t let the grass grow under their feet. In the art of money-making they need learn nothing of Cockneys or Americans, but perhaps might teach them something as to the way to get on in the world. One of the most successful of this class was Sir Richard Arkwright, the famous inventor and the improver of cotton-spinning . Sir Richard was born in 1732, and married, first, Patience Holt, of Lancaster, and second, Margaret Biggins, of Pennington. He was the son of poor parents, and the youngest of thirteen children. He was never at school; and what little he did learn was without aid. He was to a barber; and after learning that wretched business, set up for himself as a barber in Bolton, in an underground cellar, over which he put up the sign-board with the curious wording, “Come to the Subterraneous Barber—he shaves for a Penny,” painted upon it. Carrying away, by his low prices, the trade from the other barbers in the place, they reduced their prices to his level. Arkwright then, not to be outdone, and to keep the lead in the number of customers, put up the announcement of, “A Clean Shave for a Halfpenny,” which, no doubt, he found answer well. After a time he quitted his cellar, and took to tramping from place to place as a in hair. For this purpose he attended fairs, and other resorts of the people, and bought their crops of hair from girls, bargaining for and cutting off their curls and tresses, and selling them again to the wig-makers. He also dealt in hair-dye, and tried to find out the secret of perpetual motion. This led to mechanical pursuits; he neglected his business, lost what little money he had saved, and was reduced to great poverty. Having become acquainted with a watchmaker named Kay, at Warrington, and had assistance from him in constructing his model, he first, it is said, received from him the idea of spinning by rollers—but only the idea, for Kay could not practically tell how it was to be . Having once got the idea, Arkwright set to work, and neglected everything else for its ; and, in desperation and poverty, his poor neglected wife, who could only see waste of p. 122time and neglect of business in the present state of affairs, and ruin and starvation in the future, as the consequence, broke up his models, in hope of bringing him to his trade and his duties to his family. And who can blame the young wife? The unforgiving husband, however, separated from her in consequence, and never forgave her. His poverty, indeed, was so great at this time, that, having to vote as a burgess, he could not go to the polling-place until, by means of a , some clothes had been bought for him to put on. Having re-made and pretty well completed his model, but fearful of having it destroyed, as Hargreave’s spinning-jenny had been by a mob, Arkwright removed to Nottingham, taking his model with him. Here, showing his model to Messrs. Wright, the bankers, he obtained from them an advance of money on the proper condition of their sharing in the profits of the invention. Delay occurring in the completion of the machine, the bankers recommended Arkwright to apply to Jedediah Strutt (ancestor of the present Lord Belper), of Derby, who, with his partner, Reed, had brought out and patented the machine for making ribbed stockings. Strutt at once entered into the matter, and by his help the invention was completed. Thus the foundation of the fortune of the Arkwrights was laid, and thus arose their cotton-mills, and their residence (Wellersley Castle) near Matlock. Arkwright was knighted in the year 1786, and in the same year was High Sheriff of Derbyshire. He died in 1792.
Mr. Thorneycroft, who realised an immense fortune in the iron-trade, at the Shrubbery Works, near Wolverhampton, was the son of a working-man, and himself educated to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. In his youth he proved himself a most and trustworthy servant to his employers in the iron-trade; and when about twenty-six years of age commenced a small business on his own account.—Mr. Thomas Wilson, whose work, the “Pitman’s Pay,” had a national reputation, who died at Gateshead in 1858, at the ripe age of eighty-four, after having achieved a large fortune, began life by working in a colliery. At nineteen years of age he was a hewer in the mine. At sixteen he had sought more congenial occupation, in which he might profit by the little culture he had won by the sacrifice of needful rest; but he failed in the attempt, and to his darksome . In time he got to be a schoolmaster; and p. 123afterwards the pitman became a merchant prince.—Andrews, a famous Mayor of Southampton, passed the first years of his life in utter poverty, working as a farm lad, at threepence a-day, from nine to twelve years of age; then getting employment as a sawyer; next as a blacksmith; but always with for something better.
The first Sir Robert Peel was the third son of a small cotton-printer in Lancashire. Enterprising and ambitious, he left his father’s establishment, and became a junior partner in a manufactory, carried on at Bury by a relative, Mr. Haworth, and his future father-in-law, Mr. Yates. His industry, his genius, soon gave him the lead in the management of the business, and made it prosperous. By , talent, economy, and marrying a wealthy heiress—Miss Yates, the daughter of his senior partner—he had a considerable fortune at the age of forty. He then began to turn his mind to politics; published a pamphlet on the national debt; made the acquaintance of Mr. Pitt, and got returned to parliament (1790) for Teignmouth, where he had acquired landed property which the rest of his life was spent in increasing. In Greville’s journals we read:—“Grant gave me a curious of old Sir Robert Peel. He was the younger son of a merchant; his fortune very small, left to him in the house, and he was not to take it out. He gave up the fortune, and started in business without a shilling, but as the active partner in a concern with two other men—Yates, whose daughter he afterwards married, and another, who between them made up £6,000. From this beginning he left £250,000 a-piece to his five younger sons, £60,000 to his three daughters, each; and £22,000 a-year in land, and £450,000 in the funds to Peel. In his lifetime he gave Peel £12,000 a-year; the others £3,000, and spent £3,000 himself. He was always giving them money, and for objects which, it might have been thought, he under-valued. He paid for Peel’s house when he built it, and for the Chapeau de Paille (2,700 guineas) when he bought it.”
In his biography, Sir William Fairbairn describes the heroic way in which he mastered the difficulties of early years, and became famous. It really seems that there is something in the air, or in the nature of the inhabitants, of the northern districts of the kingdom, which has a tendency, p. 124more or less, to make a man rise in the world. The poet tells us how
“Caledonia, stern and wild,
Is meet nurse for child.”
Though, as to that, neither Burns nor Scott had much to do with that part of Scotland we call stern and wild. But the country may claim to do more for her sons. Every one of them seems born with a thirst for getting on in the world, for not to be with that position in life in which has placed him; and thus it is, that when we come to examine minutely into the lives of our heroes, industrial or otherwise, we find that most of them were Scotchmen, or, more or less, had blood in their .
Of this we have a illustration in the case of the late Sir William Fairbairn, who was, moreover, a representative of a class of men to whom we owe, in a large measure, the wealth and prosperity our country now enjoys.
William Fairbairn was born in the town of Kelso, in Roxburghshire on February 19th, 1789. His father, Andrew, was , on the male side, from a humble but respectable class of small lairds, or, as they were called, Portioners, who farmed their own land, as was the custom in Scotland in those days. On the female side the pedigree may have been of higher character, for Andrew’s mother was said by him to have claimed descent from the ancient border family of Douglas. She was a tall, handsome, and commanding woman, and lived to a great age. William’s mother was a Miss Henderson, the daughter of a tradesman in Jedburgh, and the direct descendant of an old border family of the name of Oliver, for many years respectable stock-farmers in a pastoral district at the northern foot of the Cheviots. The lad was early sent to school, and made fair progress in what may be called a plain English education. He was fond of exercises, and one of his was to climb to the top of the of the old abbey at Kelso. In the autumn of 1799, the position of the family materially altered. The father was offered the charge of a farm, 300 acres, in Ross-shire, which was to be the property of himself and his brother, Mr. Peter Fairbairn, for many years a resident in that county, and secretary to Lord Seaforth, of Castle Braham; and there, in an evil hour, the family removed. p. 125But it was there that young William, who was compelled to make himself generally useful, first exhibited his taste for mechanics. The father next became to Mackenzie, of Allan Grange; and at the school at Mullochy, which the boy attended, he describes the advantage by himself and his brother from wearing Saxon costumes instead of Tartan kilts. The master was a severe disciplinarian, and he found English trousers very much in the way of his favourite punishment. After two years the family moved south, and William’s father became steward to Sir William Ingleby, of Ingleby , near Knaresborough. After a few months spent in improving himself in arithmetic, in studying book-keeping and land surveying, William, being a tall lad of fourteen, was sent to work at Kelso. About this time the family were in much difficulty; but the father got a better post at Percy Main Colliery, near North Shields, and his son followed him there. Wages were very high, and the demoralisation amongst the men was such as, Sir William tells us, he never saw before or since. Pitched battles, , drinking, and cock-fighting, seemed to be the order of the day. Among the pit lads boxing was considered a necessary exercise. And Fairbairn tells us he had to fight no less than seventeen battles before he was enabled to a position calculated to insure respect. In March, 1804, he was put into a better and more definite position by entering regularly on a course of education as mechanical engineer. He was bound to the millwright of the colliery for seven years, and was to receive wages beginning with five shillings a-week, and increasing to twelve. Sometimes, he tells us, with extra work he doubled the amount of his wages, by which he was enabled to render assistance to his parents. This, we take it, shows the lad was a good one, and the bad manners of his mates had not him. This appears still further when we see how were his efforts after self-improvement. “I became,” he writes, “dissatisfied with the persons I had to associate with at the shop; and feeling my own ignorance, I became fired with ambition to remedy the evil, and cut out for myself a new path of life. I shortly came to the conclusion that no difficulties should frighten, nor the severer labour discourage me in the of the object I had in view. Armed with the resolution, I set to work in the first year of my p. 126apprenticeship, and having written out a programme, I commenced the winter course in double capacity of both scholar and schoolmaster, and arranged my study as follows:—Monday evenings for arithmetic, mensuration, &c.; Tuesday reading, history, and poetry; Wednesday, recreation, reading novels and romances; Thursday, mathematics; Friday Euclid, trigonometry; Saturday, recreation and sundries; Sunday, church, Milton, and recreation.” In this noble course the young man , in spite of the of his mates. The battle thus manfully begun was fought bravely to the last. He was aided in his studies by a ticket, given him by his father, to the North Shields Subscription Library; and by the same tender passion which turned Quentin Mastys from a blacksmith into an artist. We quote Sir William’s account of his intellectual improvement whilst making love to the lady whom, however, he did not ultimately marry. During his courtship, he tells us, “I was led into a course of letter-writing, which improved my style, and gave me greater facilities of expression. The truth is, I could not have written on any subject if it had not been for this circumstance; and my attempts at essays, in the shape of papers which I had read with avidity in the Spectator, may be traced to my of this divinity.
“In the enthusiasm of my first , it was my good fortune to fall upon a correspondence between two lovers, Frederick and Felicia, in the ‘Town and Country Magazine’ for the year 1782, Nos. 3 and 4. This correspondence was of some length, and was carried from number to number in a series of letters. Frederick was the principal writer; and although greatly above me in station, yet his sentiments harmonised so exactly with mine, that I sat down at Frederick’s desk and wrote to my Felicia with emotions as strong as any Frederick in existence. Frederick, by his writing, was evidently a gentleman; and in order to prepare myself for so much goodness as I had up in Mary, I commenced the correspondence by first reading the letter in the magazine, and then shut the book for the reply, and to write the letter that Frederick was supposed to have written. I then referred to the book, and how bitter was my disappointment at finding my expressions unconnected and immeasurably inferior to those of the writer. Sometimes I could trace a few stray expressions which I thought superior to his; but, as a whole, I p. 127was . In this way did I make love, and in this way I inadvertently rendered one of the strongest passions of our nature to the means of improvement. For three successive winters I to go through a complete system of mensuration and as much as enabled me to solve an equation, and a course of trigonometry, navigation, heights and distances, &c. This was exclusive of my reading, which was always attractive, and gave me the greatest pleasure. I had an excellent library at Shields, which I went to twice a-week, and here I read Gibbon’s ‘Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,’ Hume’s ‘History of England,’ Robertson’s ‘History of Scotland,’ ‘America,’ ‘Charles the Fifth,’ and many other works of a similar character, which I read with the utmost attention. I also read some of our best poets, amongst which were Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost,’ Shakspeare, Cowper, Goldsmith, Burns, and Kirke White. With this course of study I spent long evenings, sometimes sitting up late; but having to be at the shop at six in the morning, I did not usually prolong my studies much beyond eleven or twelve o’clock.
“During those pursuits I must, in truth, admit that my mind was more upon my studies than my business. I made pretty good way in the operative part; but, with the exception of arithmetic and mathematics, I made little or no progress in the principles of the profession; on the contrary, I took a dislike to the work and the parties by whom I was surrounded.
“The possession of tools, and the art of using them, renewed my taste for mechanical pursuits. I tried my skill at different combinations, and, like most inventors whose minds are more intent upon making new discoveries than acquiring the knowledge of what has been done by others, I frequently found myself in the very discovery which I had persuaded myself was original. For many months I laboured in devising a piece of machinery that should act as a time-piece, and at the same time as an orrery, representing the sun as a centre, with the earth and moon, and the whole planetary system, revolving round it. This piece of machinery was to be worked by a weight and a , and was not only to give the motions of the heavenly bodies, but to indicate the time of their revolutions in their orbits round the sun. All this was to be done in accordance with one p. 128measure of time, which the instrument, if it could be completed, was to record. I looked upon this piece of machinery as a original conception, and nothing prevented me from making the attempt to carry it into execution but the want of means, and the difficulties which surrounded me in the and numerous motions necessary to make it an useful working machine. The consideration of this subject was not, however, lost, as I derived great advantage in the exercise which it gave to the thoughts. It taught me the advantage of concentration and of arranging my ideas, and of bringing the whole powers of the mind with energy to bear upon one subject. It further directed my attention to a course of reading on mechanical philosophy and astronomy, from which I derived considerable advantage.
“Finding the means at my disposal much too to enable me to make a beginning with my new orrery, I turned my attention to music, and bought an old Hamburgh , for which I gave half-a-crown. This was a cheap bargain, even for such a instrument; and what with new of catgut and a music-book, I spent nearly a week’s wages, a sum which I could ill afford, to become a musician. I, however, fresh rigged the violin, and with a glue-pot carefully closed all the openings which were showing themselves between the back and sides of the instrument. Having completed the repairs, I commenced operations, and certainly there never was a learner who produced less melody or a greater number of . The effect was ; and after the whole house with sounds for two months, the very author of the tumbled to pieces in my hands, to the great relief of every member of the family.”
As an illustration of the benefit of learning a business well, I will quote a paragraph from the “busy hives around us.” After describing the large establishment of Messrs. Kershaw, Leese, and Co., Manchester, the writer adds—“There is a moral to our . Mr. Kershaw, owner of a splendid , two factories, a cotton lord, merchant prince, and senator of the realm, was once a poor Manchester boy, and is not an old man now (1878). As he set Manchester an example of good taste and wise magnificence, so he stands an example to all young men of what untiring diligence may achieve. He rose in his house of business because he learned his business p. 129well. He waited not upon fortune from without, but worked out his own future from within. He became one of the many of the illustrious men whom Lancashire points to as her pride.”
Who has not heard of Sir Titus Salt? His beneficence, especially, has made him famous; his name is a veritable household word. The of Saltaire is, in many respects, no ordinary man. He is one of those who have neither been born great nor had greatness thrust upon them. He has achieved it, and achieved it . of large intellect, immense strength of mind, and remarkable business , he gained a princely fortune, and made himself one of Yorkshire’s chief manufacturers.
Sir Titus was born in Morley, near Leeds, on the 20th of September, 1803. Some time after his birth, his father, Daniel Salt, removed to Bradford, where he became an extensive wool-dealer, and by-and-by took his son into . At once the young man’s rare business qualities showed themselves, and the of the firm—now Daniel Salt and Co.—grew larger than ever. Hitherto, however, the Russian Donskoi wool—in which they dealt extensively—had been used only in the woollen trade. The young man saw that it would suit the worsted trade as well; so he explained his views to the Bradford spinners, but they would scarcely listen to him. They knew, said they, the Russian wool was valueless to them. Young Mr. Salt was not disheartened by this. Not he! To prove his theory, he commenced as a spinner and manufacturer himself, and his fortune was assured. The wants of his trade led him occasionally to Liverpool; and it was on one of these visits that the scene took place which Charles Dickens, in his own inimitable way, described in “Household Words.” Says he:—
“A huge pile of dirty-looking sacks, filled with some fibrous material, which bore a resemblance to horse-hair, or frowsy wool, or anything unpleasant or unattractive, was landed in Liverpool. When these queer-looking bales had first arrived, or by what brought, or for what purpose intended, the very oldest warehousemen in Liverpool docks couldn’t say. There had once been a rumour—a mere warehouseman’s rumour—that the bales had been shipped from South America, on ‘spec.,’ and to the agency of C. W. and F. Foozle and Co. But even this p. 130seems to have been forgotten, and it was agreed upon by all hands, that the three hundred and odd sacks of nondescript hair-wool were a perfect nuisance. The rats appeared to be the only parties who approved at all of the importation, and to them it was the finest investment for capital that had been known in Liverpool since their first ancestors had emigrated . Well, these bales seemed likely to rot, or fall to the dust, or be bitten up for the particular use of family rats. Merchants would have nothing to say to them. couldn’t make them out. Manufacturers shook their heads at the bare mention of them; while the agents of C. W. and F. Foozle and Co. looked at the bill of lading—had once spoken to their head clerk about them to South America again.
“One day—we won’t care what day it was, or even what week or month it was, though things of far less consequence have been chronicled to the half-minute—one day, a plain business-looking young man, with an intelligent face and quiet reserved manner, was walking along through these same in Liverpool, when his eye fell upon some of the superannuated horse-hair projecting from one of the ugly dirty bales. Some lady-rat, more delicate than her neighbours, had found it rather coarser than usual, and had persuaded her lord and master to eject the portion from her resting-place. Our friend took it up, looked at it, felt at it, rubbed it, pulled it about; in fact, he did all but taste it; and he would have done that if it had suited his purpose—for he was ‘Yorkshire.’ Having held it up to the light, and held it away from the light, and held it in all sorts of positions, and done all sorts of cruelties to it, as though it had been his most deadly enemy, and he was feeling quite , he placed a handful or two in his pocket, and walked calmly away, evidently intending to put the stuff to some excruciating private torture at home. What particular experiments he tried with this fibrous substance I am not exactly in a position to state, nor does it much signify; but the sequel was that the same quiet business-looking young man was seen to enter the office of C. W. and F. Foozle and Co., and ask for the head of the firm. When he asked that portion of the house if he would accept eightpence per pound for the entire contents of the three hundred and odd frowsy dirty bags of nondescript wool, the authority felt so confounded that he could p. 131not have told if he were the head or the tail of the firm. At first he fancied our friend had come for the express purpose of quizzing him, and then that he was an escaped lunatic, and thought seriously of calling for the police; but eventually it ended in his making it over in consideration of the price offered. It was quite an event in the little dark office of C. W. and F. Foozle and Co., which had its supply of light (of a very injurious quality) from the old grim churchyard. All the establishment stole a peep at the buyer of the ‘South American Stuff.’ The chief clerk had the curiosity to speak to him and hear the reply. The cashier touched his coat tails. The bookkeeper, a thin man in spectacles, examined his hat and gloves. The porter openly grinned at him. When the quiet purchaser had departed, C. W. and F. Foozle and Co. shut themselves up, and gave all their clerks a holiday.”
Thus Mr. Salt (afterwards Sir Titus) became the introducer and adapter of alpaca wool; and in a few years his wealth was enormous.
Seventeen years afterwards Mr. Salt left Bradford, the scene of his great success. He saw with sadness that the great Yorkshire town was becoming over-crowded, dirty, and smoky to a degree, and he made up his mind that the condition of his factory workers, at any rate, should be improved. Hence he purchased a of land on the banks of the river Aire above Shipley, and founded Saltaire—a true palace of industry.
“For in making his thousands he never forgot
The thousands who helped him to make them.”
The new works were opened in 1853, when a grand banquet took place, at which members of parliament, mayors, and were present, besides between 2,000 and 3,000 of Mr. Salt’s workpeople, who had marched in procession from smoky Bradford to the fair country he had chosen for their future labours.
Sir Titus was made a baronet in 1869, and some years he held the position of president of the Bradford of Commerce. He has also been chief , , and parliamentary member for the Bradford borough, the inhabitants of which have shown their of his services and by a handsome statue to him.