Tommy Part 3

"Maybe 'twas t'other way around," replied Tom.

"Why, yo doan't main that you chucked 'er?"

"She wur too goody-goody for me," replied Tom. "I am noan baan to be a saint, I am going to enjoy mysen."

"Weel, tha' won't be a saint if tha' has much to do with Polly Powell.

She's noan a saint," and the lad laughed meaningly. "Still her feyther's got a bit of bra.s.s. I reckon he will have all thine, Tom; Jim Parkin told me that tha' spent four shillings at the Thorn and Thistle last night."

"Well, what if I did?" asked Tom.

"Ay, it's noan my business, but I think thee'rt a fool. If a la.s.s like Alice Lister took up wi' me, I would not throw myself away on Polly Powell. Thou'lt ne'er mak' much on 'er. She'll lead thee a dog's life, Tom, and tak' all tha' bra.s.s."

"Well, I reckon it's my business," retorted Tom.

"Then it's a fool's business," replied the other.

This kind of thing made Tom uncomfortable, but it didn't turn him aside from the path on which he was walking. There could be no doubt about it, Tom's character was deteriorating, and during the next two months he not only declared that he had chucked religion altogether, but that he meant to enjoy life. Tom spent most of his evenings at the Thorn and Thistle, and as a consequence his studies were neglected. Not that there was much outward difference in him; he still remained fairly sober, although on more than one occasion he was seen leaving the Thorn and Thistle at closing time with staggering footsteps; it never caused him to lose any work, however.

Meanwhile dark clouds began to arise in the nation's sky. People had given only a pa.s.sing thought to the news of the murder of the Crown Prince of Austria, but presently when Austria sent her outrageous ultimatum to Serbia, and the people read what Sir Edward Grey said about it, they began to talk seriously. For there is no part in England where politics have such a keen interest for the working-cla.s.ses as they have in Lancashire. Almost every man there is a politician, and there are but few, especially among the older men, who have not an intelligent grasp not only of home, but of international affairs.

"I'll tell you what," said one manufacturer to another as they stood on the steps of the Mechanics' Inst.i.tute, "those Germans mean war; they have been preparing for it for years, and they are trying to force it."

"Nay," replied the other, "but I doan't see how it can affect us, except"--and he laughed meaningly--"except for our benefit."

"How can it be for our benefit?"

"Why, can't you see? If the Germans join Austria against Russia and France, we shall be able to steal the German trade;--and we can do with it," was the reply.

"Ay, we can."

"Just see how Manchester is riddled with Germans. They have been robbing our trade right and left, and even here in Brunford Germans are poking their noses. I am about sick of them. Thirty years ago we hardly ever saw a German, and now they have n.o.bbled our best-paying lines. If I had my way, all Germans should be driven out of the country; they are a bad lot to deal with; they have no business honour, and they don't play the game."

"Come now, it's not so bad as that."

"Ay, but it is. For years they have been sending their lads over here on the pretence of learning the language. They take jobs in our offices for hardly any wage, and then when they have learned our secrets, and the names of our customers, they just play against us."

"Well, more fools we for letting 'em."

But it is not my purpose to deal with the talk which was so prevalent towards the close of July 1914. Neither am I going to try to trace the history of the events which led up to the war which has staggered humanity. We all know now what Germany had in her mind: how by pretence, and deceit, and fraud she worked her will; how she thought that England would allow her to crush France and Russia without moving a finger. Germany thought that the English were blind, and that for the sake of gain we should remain neutral and never lift a finger while she swept over Belgium to crush France; thought, too, that we should be supine while she violated treaties and committed the most fiendish deeds ever committed in the history of the world. But it is not my purpose to speak of these things; I have to tell the story of a commonplace lad in a workaday town, and what influence the great world convulsion had upon his life.

At first Tom was not much moved by the danger of war. For one thing he had given but little attention to public affairs, and for another thing he was enamoured with Polly Powell. Still he could not help being influenced by what every one was talking about. Local strikes, the rate of wages, and the quality of beer ceased to be the general subjects of conversation in the Thorn and Thistle. Every one was talking about a possible war. And when finally early in August the news came to Brunford that England had decided to take her part in the great struggle, Tom found himself greatly interested.

"I'll tell you what," said Enoch Powell, the landlord of the Thorn and Thistle, "the Germans have bitten off a bigger piece than they can chew. I give them about six weeks. What can they do with Russia on the one side and France and England on the other? Besides, the German people don't want war. It's that blooming Kaiser. In about six weeks'

time they will be on their knees crying for mercy."

That was the general feeling of the town during the first fortnight of the War, and when as day after day the brave little Belgian army at Liege held out against the advancing Huns there was great confidence.

"They have had their time-table smashed to smithereens at the first go," was the joyful comment. "Wait till our lads get across, they'll let 'em know."

In these days there was very little bitterness against the Germans.

The terror of war had scarcely been felt. People talked about the untold millions of Russian soldiers who would be in Berlin by the following October. They boasted confidently about the armies of France, and the unconquerable power of the British Navy. It is true that at the first news of the War many of the employers of labour were staggered; but presently as, when day followed day, they saw that trade would not be destroyed, but that possibly new avenues of wealth would be opened, they became more cheerful. Besides, England was rising n.o.bly to her responsibilities. Lord Kitchener's call for half a million men was answered in a few days. "Think on it," the people said one to another, "half a million men in a week! Why, we'll smash 'em afore they know where they are!"

Tom never thought of joining the army. The idea of being a soldier was utterly strange to him. The soldiers whom he knew were mostly of the lower orders; fellows who had got into trouble, or had taken the "King's shilling" while they were drunk. He had looked down upon them as being lower in social scale than himself, and he would never be seen walking with a soldier. When he saw lads of his own cla.s.s enlisting, he shrugged his shoulders with a laugh. "Let 'em join if they want to," he said, "but it's noan in my line." In fact, after the first three weeks of the War, although terrible stories were reaching England about the ghastly atrocities in Belgium, and about the Germans nearing Paris, the manufacturing parts of Lancashire were largely unmoved. The terrible harvest of war which was to come later was not yet realised.

It is true that thousands of young fellows responded to the call of duty. Young men of the better-educated cla.s.s obtained commissions and were working at the local barracks; while here and there the more adventurous of the operatives found their way to recruiting stations.

But the response was not large; partly for the reason that the reality of their country's call had not come to them with its full meaning.

One evening Tom found himself talking with young Waterman, who had been away from Brunford for some weeks.

"Hullo, Pollard," said Waterman, "I see you have not enlisted."

"Nay, I am not bound to enlist; there's enough gone to lick the Germans already. Don't you think so?" asked Tom.

A bright light came into Waterman's eyes. "I am going to enlist," he said--"that is, my people are getting me a commission. I have had some training, you know."

"But we shall quickly lick them, don't you think so?" asked Tom.

"You've been in Germany a goodish bit. You went to school and college there, so you ought to know."

Waterman laughed. "We English are fools," he said.

"How's that?"

"Of course I am going to do my bit," said Waterman. "As an Englishman I must; but we shall never lick the Germans."

"Why? Think of the millions the Russians have got; think of the French; think of our Navy."

"Ay, think of it all," replied Waterman, "but you don't know what the Germans are. I do. In that country every man is a soldier. Look at Brunford; here are thousands upon thousands of fellows who are hanging back, and who are worth nothing in a time of war. If this had been a German town every man you see would be a soldier. Then see how much in advance of us the Germans are in scientific matters. They have got mountains of guns and ammunition. Besides, they have made a science of war, while Englishmen are only amateurs. Think of what they have done already; nearly the whole of Belgium belongs to them, and a great slice of France."

"But do you mean to say," cried Tom, "that they will lick us? Why, think of our Navy; think of----"

Waterman did not wait to hear the end of Tom's sentence; he crossed the road and was lost to sight.

One event took place, however, which somewhat opened the people's eyes, and is talked of even to-day. A young German who had come to Brunford a few years before, and who had succeeded in ama.s.sing a fortune, was called home by his Government. So popular had he become in the town, and so little had the realities of the war laid hold of the people, that some of the leading townsmen decided to give him a dinner. This dinner was arranged to take place in the large dining-room of the Bull and Butcher, the largest hotel in the town. Although some people were anything but pleased at the arrangement, so little ill-feeling was felt towards the Germans that a good number of the townspeople gathered.

When the dinner had been eaten the chairman rose to propose the toast of the evening. He said that although Mr. Shweitzer was called upon to fight against the English people, the town had no ill-will against him personally; they all knew him as a good fellow, a good sportsman, and an honourable business man. During the time he had been in Brunford they had opened their doors to him and received him as an honoured guest, and although the unfortunate war had taken place, they had nothing but good feeling towards Mr. Shweitzer. That was why they had invited him as their guest that night, and he, the chairman, expressed the hope that the war would soon be over and that Mr. Shweitzer would return and take up the position which he had so long occupied amongst them. The toast to his health was heartily cheered; good feeling abounded, and all waited for the response of the German guest.

As Mr. Shweitzer rose to respond he received quite an ovation; the diners even went so far as to give him musical honours. Mr.

Shweitzer's reply was in fairly good English. He thanked his friends for their good-fellowship, and for the kind things they had said about him.

"As to my coming back to Brunford again," he concluded, "I have but little doubt that I shall return, but when I do, the Kaiser, and not the man you now own as king, will rule over England. For the Germans are going to lick your country, and Wilhelm II will be your future king."

For a few seconds those who had gathered were so much astonished that there was a dead silence. Meanwhile the German looked around the room with a supercilious smile.

Then an Englishman who had been sitting close by came up to the German.

He was a brawny, stalwart fellow. "Do you mean that?" he asked the German.

"Yes, I do," was the reply.

The Englishman without another word struck him a mighty blow on the jaw. "That for you and your Kaiser!" he exclaimed amidst the shouts of those present.

The blow was so heavy and so well aimed that the German's jaw was broken. He was taken to the hospital, where he remained for some months, and he has not yet returned to Germany.[1]