ELECTION NIGHT IN THE WEST-END.
AWAITING THE NUMBERS.
Long before the first result was announced – it was just before ten o’clock – a vast multitude had gathered in the West-end of London. It was a merry, jostling throng of people of all social condition and ages, and at times one felt that their motive was rather to capture the spirit of festivity than to watch the serious unfolding of a new page in politics. Capture that spirit they were able to do very easily. Levity was abroad in the town and would not be denied, despite a slightly raw, foggy tinge in the atmosphere.
Everywhere the street hawkers were there to minister to it, and a thriving trade they did with their motley assortment of noisy rattles, hideously postimpressionist masks, multi-coloured rosettes, and miniature whiz-bangs. All sorts of catch-penny wares were held out temptingly to coax the coins from the pockets of jolly crowds of citizens.
Nevertheless, while at first one thought that it was the holiday spirit which had lured the multitudes from their suburban homes, and which was to keep them from their beds into the early hours of the morning, this was merely a transient impression. A General Election comes only once in awhile, and the significance of it all, after the weeks of appeal from every hoarding and platform, undeniably whets the popular appetite. Gilbert once laid it down that mankind is divided from birth into Liberals and Conservatives. True, he wrote in an era that knew little of Labour, and much less of “Wee Frees.”
But in substance his verdict survives. Looking at those many thousands who congested Trafalgar-square, who wedged themselves into breathless ranks in Piccadilly-circus, who made parts of Oxford-street impassable, or who crowded together wherever lantern slides were being exhibited, one had a shrewd notion that those who were not Conservatives were doubtless Liberals of one type or the other, and that those who were neither were Labour. If they had marked a ballot paper earlier in the day they were anxious, first of all, to assure themselves that they had put their man on the winning side, and then to see that the country generally had given him a sufficiency of party companions. The progress of each party, the size of the majorities, the fate or fortune of distinguished men, were all eagerly noted, as result after result was flashed on the screens in almost every other street or square. Outside Selfridge’s, Harrods and Barker’s, amongst other places, the crowds were immense.
The Conservatives, it was soon seen, were maintaining a firm hold on their own constituencies, and amongst a very large number this fact was popular. So far, at all events, as the earlier results were concerned, there was little evidence of a “landslide” one way or the other, and thus little to stimulate the enthusiasm of the partisan or to invoke his sense of “depression.” Isolated Liberal or Labour gains, with now and again Conservative ones, varied the tedium of numerous “no changes.”
RESULTS ON SCREENS
Each batch of figures was cheering to some group of adherents, but soon afterwards the good news was obliterated by the adverse tidings from other parts of the country, where this seat or that had been captured by the enemy. Split voting in triangular contests appeared to wreck the hopes of the various parties fairly equally, or so seemed to be the impression as results rapidly appeared on the screens. Sufficient comfort was it to the Conservatives in the crowd that the electoral totals showed a big lead for their party, and to the Liberal and Labour adherents that, in their turn, they were establishing useful representation in the new Parliament. The good-humoured multitudes, satisfied in their various ways with things as they found them, lingered about until two o’clock in the morning, and then went home to await the full chapter of the polls that will be unfolded later to-day.
Large as was the assembly of people to whom the results were made known in the streets – and they included all classes from street labourers to men attired in evening dress – many more thousands were catered for under cover. The political and other clubs, the theatres and music halls, and the hotels and restaurants had made admirable arrangements for the prompt and prominent display of the decisions of the constituencies, and their accommodation was taxed to the utmost capacity. In many places admission could be obtained only by those who had booked their seats several days beforehand.