The Pomp of Yesterday

by Joseph Hocking

The next day was Saturday, and directly after lunch we started to go together to a matinee, for Edgecumbe had stated his determination to visit the places of amusement and see how London enjoyed itself.

We begun by going to one of the largest and most popular music-halls in the City, where a revue which was much commented on was produced for the delectation of all who cared to see it.

I was informed that this particular place was much patronized by soldiers, and that the entertainment was one of the most popular in London. The prices of the seats varied from half a guinea, plus the War tax, to a shilling, and as we entered we found a vast concourse of people, among whom were many men in khaki. I discovered too that the management had been generous, for there were numbers of wounded soldiers, many of them in the stalls, and who had been given free admission.

'After all, it is fine,' I said, as we waited for the curtain to rise, 'that these lads should have a place of brightness and amusement to go to.'

'Yes,' replied Edgecumbe, 'in a way it is splendid.'

'The people of the country are wonderfully good,' I went on; 'soldiers in the hospitals, as well as others home on leave, are constantly being given hospitality by the best and kindest people in England. I hope these chaps'll have a good laugh this afternoon, and be able to forget the horrors through which they have passed. They have had enough of the tragedy of life, poor chaps. I hope they'll get some comedy this afternoon.'

'I hope they will,' he replied.

I will not attempt to give a description of the revue they witnessed that afternoon. I suppose it was similar to a score of others that might be seen in various parts of the metropolis. There was an excellent orchestra, the music was light and pleasing, the whole atmosphere of the place was merry. The lights were dazzling, the dresses were gay, the scenery almost magnificent. As a spectacle it would, I suppose, be regarded as gorgeous. Apparently, too, most of the auditors enjoyed it, although a look of boredom was on some faces. As to the revue itself, while one could not help admitting that some of the songs were humorous, and some of the repartee clever, the thing as a whole was cheap and silly and vulgar.

I do not say there was anything positively wrong in it, but there were a great many vulgar suggestions and unpleasant innuendoes. As a dramatic critic said in my hearing a day or two later, when discussing the popular entertainments of London, 'Most of these shows consist of vulgar, brainless twaddle.' Still, the audience laughed and cheered, and when the curtain finally fell, there was a good deal of applause. Certainly the entertainment would be a great contrast to the experiences which the lads who were home on leave had been going through. But as I reflect on it now, and think of the great struggle through which the nation was going, and the ideals for which it was fighting, I cannot remember one single word that would help or inspire. Of course places of amusement are not intended to instruct or to fill one with lofty emotions. All the same, I could not help feeling that laughter and enjoyment were in no way incompatible with the higher aims of the drama. In fact, what we saw was not drama at all; it was a caricature of life, and a vulgar one at that. Indeed, the author's purpose seemed to be—that is, assuming he had a purpose—to teach that virtue was something to be laughed at, that vice was pleasant, and that sin had no evil consequences.

Indeed, while I am anything but a puritan, I felt sorry that the hundreds of lads home from the front, many of whom were wounded, had no better fare offered to them. God knows I would be the last to detract from their honest enjoyment, and I would make their leave bright and happy; but after all, the nation was at war, life was a struggle, and death stalked triumphant, and this was but a poor mental and moral food for men who, for months, had been passing through an inferno, and many of whom would, in a few weeks or days, go back again to see 'hell let loose.' If those men had been merely fighting animals, if they were mere creatures of a day, who went out of existence when the sun went down, then one could understand; but they were men with hopes, and fears, and longings; men into whose nostrils God had breathed the breath of His own life, men destined for immortality. And this show was pagan from end to end.