At the suggestion of Mr. Bill Williams of Manchester 
Polytechnic, this paper has been based on the National Census of 1851.  
This has been crossed checked by the references available including the Minutes 
of the Birmingham Hebrew Congregation, the Birmingham Hebrew Philanthropic 
Society, marriage records, will, patents, the rate books, election rolls, 
Aris's Gazette, the Jewish Chronicle, various subscription lists and 
the researches of Mr. Harry Levine.1
As far as can be estimated, the Jewish population of the town was 752. Of these 
89 appear to have been lodgers, the majority single men from abroad. The 
permanent population divided into 169 households in which 304 were male and 359 
female. There were in addition
about 20 heads of households of possible Jewish origin, and at least 20 families 
known from other records to be living in Birmingham at this time have not been 
found in the Census. They were mostly well-to-do, so presumably their businesses 
were closed on Census
Sunday and they lived elsewhere. Most of the adult males carne from Eastern 
Europe although 25 were local and 29 from London. 39 of their womenfolk were 
born in Birmingham and 45 in London, only a comparatively small number being 
foreigners. The children were,
of course, mostly born in Birmingham, only a handful elsewhere, the largest 
group being 15 from Poland.  A few of the well-established families were 
beginning to infiltrate the more, fashionable residential areas, but the vast majority were packed in the streets and
courts between Holloway Road and the Bull Ring "with its fairs, fights and 
drunkenness",2 the 
description later given by Moritz Stern, a serious young 
clerk, who arrived from Germany in 1853 and whose descendants still live in the 
city. "The whole town reeked of oil and smoke and sweat and drunkenness" corroborated 
another contemporary.3 But 
it had other attractions. "A stranger might commence a sort of business with the 
goods produced in the place, even with a small capital, whether as a shopkeeper 
or a hawker. Dissenters, Quakers, heretics of all sorts were welcomed, and undisturbed as far as 
religious observances were concerned. No trade unions, no guilds, no companies 
existed and every man was free to come and go to found or follow or leave a trade. The system of apprenticeship
was only partially known, and Birmingham became emphatically the town of free 
trade.4
The life of the Community appears to have been closely centred on the Synagogue 
in Severn Street, a neat building erected in 1817 and enlarged in 1823, and in 
1851 it was repainted and generally furbished up in time for 
Shevuoth.5 
The Synagogue Council of 1851 was
energetic and out for change. Finances were being overhauled and the duties and 
salaries of Synagogue officers closely examined.6 
Each member of the Community 
was to receive a copy of the laws, and a register of births, marriages and 
deaths was to be kept.7 No
doubt, the most important event of the year was the genesis of the new Synagogue 
soon to be built close by on Singers' Hill. At an October meeting, "a new and 
more commodious Synagogue was deemed necessary and a managing committee set up 
to elicit donations and procure a suitable site
for the new edifice".8 
A list of subscribers at the entrance, carved on marble, 
remains, and has proved a valuable source of reference. 
The position of President was by no means entirely enviable. Quarrels were rife 
and had on occasion to be referred to the Chief Rabbi or Sir Moses Montefiore. 
The President of 1851 begged to be relieved of the irksome task of solving 
disputes, and the Treasurer
volunteered to take over the task.9 Insults were 
freely hurled between Synagogue 
officers;
a Mr. J. C. Cohen grumbled about his seat all the year through, nor was he 
mollified by being given the Presidential chair on the Day of Atonement.10 
The Reader, Rev. Lewis Chapman, was a constant aggravation to the Council, which alternated between 
urging him to make himself agreeable and useful", and telling him to 
go.11 
He was lax in his
duties, sang when he should chant,12 and 
was once "violent" at a smart 
wedding.13 They
had raised his salary from £70 to £100 but he was for ever itching to augment his income.
First he ran a clothier's shop on the side,14 then 
he coached private pupils 
during school hours.15 Each 
time the council came down heavily, threatening instant 
dismissal. In
1851 he was boarding and tutoring two lads in his home, one from Gloucestershire 
and the
other from Now York.16
The Synagogue was organised somewhat as an exclusive club. Privileged or "free" membership
formed the first category of the wealthier. They paid an entrance fee, were voted in
select committee and could be blackballed. Above all they must have lived a certain time
in Birmingham. This elite had the franchise and all rights. The second category, the
seatholders, rented seats but had no privileges. Finally, the strangers had no seats and
on the sale of Mitzvoth and Mishebeyrochs, but the ancient cry of "one penny to 
open the door of the Ark" was to be heard no more. As elsewhere, it was being considered
undignified and reminiscent of the auction room,17 
and by 1851 the assessment system was in full swing. Each member
was now taxed according to his means and a collector was engaged to extract the money.
Everybody complained from time to time, even the wealthiest, the only exception being
the public-spirited Isaac Blanckensee, who asked to have his assessment 
raised!18 Those
who fell into arrears were punished by being relegated to a back scat, and had in the past
even been excluded from buying Kosher meat. Anyone who bought it on their behalf 
was fined 10/-.19 
The free membership privileges eventually let to trouble and by 1851
discontent was seething. Two years later a letter was sent to the Chief Rabbi complaining
of the "supremacy of money" ..... "Poor Jews worshipped almost on 
sufferance".20 A 
rival Synagogue was set up in Wrottesley Street, the troublesome Rev. Chapman departing with
the dissidents. The rift was healed in 1856 with the building of Singer's Hill and he
returned with the rest.
It is difficult to assess the degree of observance among the Community of 1851. 
A Census of church attendance on Census Sunday, 30th March, was held in that 
year,21 and 
in the case of Jews the figures returned were those for the previous Sabbath; they 
were: Friday night 82, Sabbath morning 185, Sabbath afternoon 40. It is probable in any case 
that the congregants had been urged to make a good showing. On this occasion the 
secretary of the Synagogue noted, "The Jewish population here being mostly engaged in travelling, 
the attendance except on holidays is 
limited".22 
This statement does not seem to 
correspond with the census which show less than 20% travellers. Meanwhile the Society for 
the Propagation of Christianity among the Jews pursued its thankless task. A meeting 
at the Town Hall in May revealed plenty of funds but a dearth of 
missionaries.23
The Birmingham Hebrew National School had opened with great 
éclat in 1840. "The attention
of all England is directed" on the experiment.24 
Fees were 1/- a week for boys and 6d. for
girls. The Headmaster received £180 and his assistant £80, and a Hebrew Educational
Society raised funds to apprentice children on 
leaving.25 
In 1851 it was entering a
period of decline. The number of pupils dropped from 56 boys and 36 girls in 
1845 to 42 
boys and 20 girls in 1853. The two teachers were of inferior calibre, the 
headmaster under
notice. He was proving difficult to replace and the Council, at their wit's end, 
opted for
a Christian English master. Rev. Chapman, to be responsible for 
Hebrew.26  
However, Rev.
Pereira Mendes attended for interview just in time, and was appointed, later 
becoming
Minister to the Congregation. The teaching was on the so-called "simultaneous 
system",
i.e. the Headmaster taught the Upper class, the other master the second class, 
while both
jointly supervised the third class; although the rules allowed for a third 
master one was
not apparently appointed. The pupil-teacher apprenticeship system was not yet 
introduced
into the school, nor had this or any Jewish school so far received any 
Government aid, its
running expenses now being undertaken by the Birmingham Hebrew
Congregation. Sadly, the feature which gave the school its uniqueness in 
Anglo-Jewry was
disappearing. This uniqueness, stressed in newspaper reports and referred to by 
the Chief
Rabbi, was the education of rich and poor in one school. The richer boys had 
even
organised a "Benevolent Book and Clothing Society" to help their poorer 
class-mates and
their presence had probably accounted for the inclusion of the classics and 
modern foreign
languages in the syllabus. By 1851 the more affluent parents were removing their 
children.
Some already attended the King Edward School. The Birmingham Hebrew National 
School was
becoming more like the general so-called national schools, giving elementary 
education to
the poorer classes but unlike them officially discriminating heavily against the 
girls.
While the boys were taught six days weekly, the girls were permitted to be 
educated merely
on two afternoons each week. A pathetic footnote to the school records in 1851 
is provided
by a pupil Alexander Michael who stole a Bible, sold it, and was publicly 
expelled.27 The
Census shows him and his two little brothers to have been boarded with 
strangers, while
the Philanthropic Society notes a man Michael confined to Warwick 
gaol.28 A 
'snob'
Academy to teach young ladies and gentlemen Hebrew and English was mooted by Mr. and Mrs.
Harris of Newhall Street, but it is not in the Census, so presumably never got off
the ground.29
As for Jewish adult education, records are scarce. Rev. Mendes, following the 
trend for
self-education, proposed opening the school at night for the study of Hebrew and other
languages.30 
A few families subscribed to such religious publications as Benisch's Family
Bible and a new edition of Maimonides. Only one Jew was on the subscription list 
for the Birmingham Library - unexpectedly the same J. C. Cohen who was so agitated about 
his seat. (He was, incidentally, a generous supporter of the General Hospital and other non-Jewish
charities.31) 
Six Jews wore among the founder members of the Midland Institute, which
aimed to promote practical science, literature and the arts. Among them was David Barnett
who had recently patented an arithmetical computer.32 
Although Russian-born, he played an
important part in the political and social life of the town, and was an unusually
enterprising individual.
The congregation must have missed the learned Dr. Raphell, one of the innovators 
of the
English sermon, lately departed to more appreciative audiences in New York. 
There were
occasional
visiting lecturers, including the romantic Dr. Schiller-Szinnessey, hero of the 
Hungarian
freedom fighters of 1848. The Council, however, stipulated that he should not be 
paid more
than £5.33 
The Music Festivals at the Town Hall where Mendelssohn had 
conducted
"Elijah" were the pride of Birmingham; like other schools, the Hebrew school was 
given a
two-day holiday to attend.34 
Charitable "Benefits" at the Theatre and concerts 
at the
Town Hall enlivened the provincial scene, and were supported by Jews and 
non-Jews alike.
Jenny Lind's appearance at the Town Hall in aid of the Hebrew school in 1847 had 
been
attended by the Mayor and brought in £900.35 
The Philanthropic Ball was the 
highlight of
the social year and there were occasional dinners held in the Hebrew 
school-room. "Beneath
the brilliancy of the chandeliers .... every delicacy was provided." Sometimes 
these were
for gentlemen only, but when "the beaming countenances of handsome 
ladies"36 
adorned the
scene they must have ameliorated the immense list of toasts.
On the more serious side of these charities, the Council, the Philanthropic 
Society, and
the Hebrew Board of Guardians spent immense energy distinguishing between the 
deserving
and the undeserving poor. The "Schnorrers" passing through were legion; 
hand-outs were
often augmented if the recipient undertook to go elsewhere, preferably to 
America. Boots,
blankets and coals were distributed with depressing regularity. Every winter was 
hard.
There is as yet no sign of the more constructive sewing-machine. The first of 
the familiar
ladies' efforts resulted from an appeal "Charity begins at 
home".37 
Well-bred young ladies
undertook the arduous task of collecting weekly sixpences for the poor; no doubt 
a welcome
contrast to the visits of the outlandish rabbis pressing the needs of their 
brethren in
the Holy Land. On one occasion at least the Council showed generosity and a 
truly liberal
outlook. In 1844, Eliza Madenberg, aged 13, fell into serious trouble and left 
home. Her
father, a wealthy cabinet maker from Warsaw, a Councillor and a fanatically 
religious man,
refused to allow her a penny piece if she did not return. The Council, however, 
deeming
she had been "cruelly used and exposed to unnatural conduct" granted her £5. Her 
father
resigned from the Council. In the 1851 census she is back again with her parents 
as Eliza
Jones. No husband is in evidence and Mr. Madenberg returned to the 
Counci1.38
1851 saw the Community hard-working and law-abiding. A few prominent Jews were 
robbed, onewas charged as a receiver, there were one or two bankruptcies and a dissolution 
of partnership. The
members were anxious to be seen in a good light by their fellow citizens, and a 
few years previously had opened the doors of the Synagogue one Easter Sunday afternoon. 
400 gentiles had attended and "came away astonished by what they 
saw".39 
An accusation by the Church of
England Lay Association that "the Jews revile and deride Christianity", brought 
forthspirited 
protest.40 
David Barnett as always was foremost; when the Town Council 
held a
meeting in 1844 on the Civil Disabilities of the Jews, he had been the 
Community's
spokesman.41 
He was an original member of the Town Council when Birmingham was 
granted a
Royal Charter in 1838, although he refused to take the oath as a Christian. He 
was also
Chairman of the Guardians of the Poor, and it is interesting to note that at 
this early
date there were two other Jews, S. Hyman and A. Nerwich on his 
committee.42 
On his retirement from office he made an eloquent farewell speech, pleading that his 
record in
municipal service be used to urge the admission of Jews to Parliament. He was 
accorded a
splendid dinner at which 100 businessmen of the town were 
present.43 
He had been President of the Birmingham Hebrew Congregation in 1841, afterwards permanently 
on the
Council, and he was a founder of the Hebrew National School. Described in the 
census as
merchant and factor, he shared a large house on Bennett's Hill with his partner 
on the
jewellery side, Samuel Neustadt, his wife and Mrs. Neustadt being sisters. They 
had formed
a close friendship with the famous Burne-Jones, next door. Lady Burne-Jones 
tells how the
young Edward enjoyed the company of the children "on the other side of the wall" 
joining
with them in their Purim dressing up and sharing seaside holidays in 
Blackpool44 
A few doors away lived Mr. Eskell, a young dentist from Scotland, all of them making 
Bennett's
Hill a lively quarter. 1851 marked the height of David Barnett's social career. 
In
January, he was Chairman of the Tradesmen's Ball in aid of the Lying-In 
Hospital, at which
the nobility, gentry and the Mayor were present. A well-known Quadrille Band was 
engaged
and the Irish Dragoons played between the dances. Tickets were snapped up at 
6/6, 5/- for
ladies and spectators at 1/- a ticket crammed the galleries. It was a 
tremendous success. 
Needless to say, Barnett had his jealous detractors. He was accused by the 
Wrottesley
Street faction, in their letter to, the Chief Rabbi, of dictatorial airs. His 
career was
to be cut short, however, as he was killed, rather mysteriously, in a railway 
accident
three years
later.
Harper's Hill off Newhall Street must have been another pleasant enclave with 
Myer
Blanckensee, a well-to-do tailor, living next door to the merchant Jacob Cohen, 
surrounded
by their swarming children, nursemaids and servants. Cohen worked for the great 
firm of
Moore, Phillips and Co., of which Jacob Phillips, the principal, was grandson of 
Isaiah
Phillips, the first "rabbi" of Birmingham. At the time of the census, he was 
about to
leave Hong Kong, where he had built up a business with branches in Manila and Tientsin.
His partner, Benjamin Phineas Moore, lived in some style in Great Charles 
Street,
importing all the more exotic luxuries that his designation "China Merchant" 
would imply.
In return they exported Guns and other local manufactures, being indeed pioneers 
of trade
between Birmingham and the Far Fast. The China Mail praised him on his departure 
as "one
of the most useful men in the Colony. If it ever acquired the management of its 
own
affairs it would feel the want of Jacob Phillips more than the Colonial 
Office."45 
1851 saw him return to half a century of public service. As Chairman of the 
Birmingham
Libraries, he went to London with Samuel Timings to buy the first books. He 
worked for the
Children's -and Queen's Hospital, and was offered the Mayoralty but refused. He 
occupied
every office in the Birmingham Hebrew Congregation, and was founder of Singer's 
Hill
Synagogue. It was by his good offices that the Wrottesley Street defectors 
returned to the
fold. He lived to be almost 100 years old, adored
by his nephews and nieces, and died, as the Birmingham Post proclaimed, "A 
Hebrew Patriarch".46
At a dinner given in December 1850 for the Philanthropic Society, "53 gentlemen, 
all of
the Jewish persuasion" each subscribed between £5 
and 2/6.47 These 
would surely represent
a range of householders from the wealthy to the comfortably-off. The electoral 
roll of 1851 shows 44 Jews had the vote, i.e. that their premises were over £10 rateable 
value.48
In the rate books 11 Jews owned their houses and other 
property,49 
Mr. J. C. Cohen, once
again prominent in this category. Needless to say, he does not figure among the 
few
outstanding personalities, mostly belonging to, or married into the 
old-established
families, who shared the offices of the Community. When his name was proposed as 
President
of the Philanthropic Society in 1843 "great confusion and uproar ensued" and the 
meeting
was dissolved. The Blanckensees were always strong on the Council and Isaac 
Blanckensee
was President in the early part of 1851. The vast Aaron family, the veteran 
Samuel Sachs,
mostly pawnbrokers, were always prominent. Abraham Nerwich, Abraham Danziger and 
Simon
King Marks, all merchants in a substantial position, played their
part in the running of affairs. The remainder mainly followed the
traditional callings. Tailoring was the most popular, followed by
the clothiers, among them Samuel Hyam, whose huge advertisements
were always topical and often in verse. Normally he concentrated on the cheaper 
novelty
lines - "the Hyamonian Reversible Overcoat,
Vest and Trousers". In May there was something more exclusive in one of the few 
references
to the Great Exhibition of 1851. "Fine
West of England Cloths made expressly for the Exhibition; dress coats from the 
exhibition
cloths cost from three to three and a half guineas'".  M. Moses of London, his 
rival,
anxiously tried to persuade Birmingham excursionists at least to look into his 
emporium in
Oxford Street, a treat they could enjoy 
free.50
The recent immigrants made slippers, boots, caps and cigars. Several were 
glaziers and
there were hawkers of all kinds. A hint of the sweated labour soon to become 
notorious
existed in the multi-occupied premises of the poorest courts, but generally these 
were
small businessmen, the tailors in particular often helped by wife
and family. Among the craftsmen was a lithographer and an engraver. Jewellers, 
watchmakers
and allied trades did well, and the two cabinet makers were wealthy. One 
enterprising
craftsman made an ewer "after a process invented by himself" and presented it to 
the
Synagogue. It was admired as "a tasteful specimen of the science and skill of 
one of our
members".51 
The Jewish housewife could, if she wished, have dealt almost 
entirely with her
co-religionists. She had a furrier (Creamer's who remained in Birmingham until a 
few years
ago), dressmakers, a stay maker, a dealer in embroidery and a gasfitter. For her 
household
shopping there was a provision dealer, a wine merchant, a fishmonger and a 
confectioner.
How she fared at Passover is not known. Tucked away among the minutes is an 
advertisement
from London for Matzos, sweet cakes and prelatoes. The butchers were always 
non-Jewish and a constant source of 
friction.52 
Surprisingly two of these troublemakers 
contributed to the Philanthropic 
Society.53 
Climbing into the professional classes were the 
teachers of
languages and music, a travelling optician, and three surgeon dentists. Two of 
these
gentlemen advertised miraculous and painless methods of replacing lost teeth, 
Mr. Eskell
by self-adhesion, Mr. Emanual by atmospheric pressure. Mr. Eskell also warned 
against the
dangers to health of base metal masquerading as gold. To be on the safe side, 
wearers
should overcome natural modesty and send doubtful dentures to the Assay
office.54
The portraits of the leaders of the Community are indistinguishable from those 
of other
mid-Victorian worthies. They must have viewed with mixed feelings the shabby and 
uncouth
arrivals from the ghettoes of Eastern Europe, crowded into the noisome alleys of 
Old
Inkleys, Peck Lane and other streets long since obliterated by New Street 
Station. But
their children would soon be at least outwardly assimilated, facing with equal
apprehension the next and far larger wave of immigrants. These in their turn 
would soon
become closely involved with the communal institutions and social activities, 
already
firmly rooted in previous generations of Jewish life, and the precursors of 
those existing
to-day.
By 1870 the 800 Jews of 1851 had more than doubled and by 1900 the numbers had doubled
again to give a community of about 4000. In the past seventy years the rate of increase
has slowed down and the present Jewish population is about 
6000.55 
It is a striking
tribute to the vision and enterprise of the community of the early days that so 
much of
their groundwork in synagogal life, charitable institutions and cultural 
activities has
proved so effective a foundation throughout the years.
Between 1858 and 1907 the town of Birmingham flourished and the Jewish 
population shared
in its economic prosperity. A study of all the grants of 
probate56 
of the Jews who died
between those dates reveals a steady growth of wealth and considerable personal 
concern to
see that the community supported its own needy. Jews also played their part in 
the life of
the civic community generally. There took place a gradual shift of emphasis from 
a tiny
minority religious grouping, only interested in its own survival, to a more 
extrovert
anglicised self-confident community happy to be part of the larger society 
surrounding it.
This process has further continued in the twentieth century combined with a 
great deal of
internal change in the religious structure of the community, and greatly 
influenced by the
tragedy of the Nazi era, followed by the Zionist achievement of the State of 
Israel. The
result is that Birmingham Jewry to-day is in many ways directly comparable to 
its
predecessor of 1851 and is still basically organised in the same way. However, it 
also
exhibits the peculiar tensions of our own time and in some ways these have been 
uneasily
grafted upon the older institutions and ways of life. The same phenomenon is 
probably
paralleled many times elsewhere in Anglo-Jewry.
(For the tables 
to this paper, see
		
						Addendum)
  
	
		
			
				
					
						
						Addendum (Tables) to 
						this Paper
						
						
	Introductory Paper on Birmingham
						
					
				
			
		
	
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