I’ve been tidying up my study recently. In fact, this has been going on for more than a month, and I’m now getting close to ground zero, I’d forgotten the carpet was that colour. All sorts of long-lost pamphlets and lecture notes and poems have emerged. The only thing not to be buried down there was Richard III.

One of the items to re-surface was an old news-cutting from the Birmingham Mail, which must have once caught my eye. It dated back to November 1894. The story recounted a serious fire that had broken out in a wholesale warehouse in Edgbaston Street. Thirty fireman had fought the blaze.

The owner’s name was George Heaven, though that afternoon in Edgbaston Street was more hellish than heavenly. Mr Heaven had been stockpiling toys in preparation for the Christmas rush, and the whole lot had gone up in flames.

The Mail reporter was allowed access to the charred and dripping premises, and he grasped with both hands the opportunity to wax lyrical on what he entitled “Trouble in Toyland”. A sorry sight he described of forlorn dolls, disjointed monkeys on sticks, and Noah’s Arks that had gone down in the flood.

Then came the item that must have attracted me. It was a blackened box of Chamberlain and Gladstone toys. The lucky recipient either wound a key, or turned a handle, and the two politicians boxed each other. What a marvellous little plaything! Messrs Cameron and Miliband could bring it back to life.

Next year happens to be the centenary of Joseph Chamberlain’s death, and we’re putting on a conference at Newman and in the Library of Birmingham. Hopefully there will also be a chance to see some of the merchandise and promotional stuff the great man attracted.

How lovely it would be to uncover an example of the Gladstone and Chamberlain toy. Or were they all burned that day in Edgbaston Street? If there’s one lurking in your attic, I would dearly love to hear from you.

* Dr Chris Upton is Reader in Public History at Newman University Birmingham