The Heroism of Thomas Chadwick
I"Have you heard about Tommy Chadwick?" one gossip asked another inBursley."No.""He's a tram-conductor now."This information occasioned surprise, as it was meant to do, theexpression on the faces of both gossips indicating a pleasant curiosityas to what Tommy Chadwick would be doing next.Thomas Chadwick was a "character" in the Five Towns, and of a somewhatunusual sort. "Characters" in the Five Towns are generally either verygrim or very jolly, either exceptionally shrewd or exceptionally simple;and they nearly always, in their outward aspect, depart from theconventional. Chadwick was not thus. Aged fifty or so, he was a portlyand ceremonious man with an official gait. He had been a policeman inhis youth, and he never afterwards ceased to look like a policeman inplain clothes. The authoritative mien of the policeman refused to quithis face. Yet, beneath that mien, few men (of his size) were lesscapable of exerting authority than Chadwick. He was, at bottom, a weakfellow. He knew it himself, and everybody knew it. He had left thepolice force because he considered that the strain was beyond hisstrength. He had the constitution of a she-ass, and the calm, terrificappetite of an elephant; but he maintained that night duty in Januarywas too much for him. He was then twenty-seven, with a wife and twosmall girls. He abandoned the uniform with dignity. He did everythingwith dignity. He looked for a situation with dignity, saw his wife andchildren go hungry with dignity, and even went short himself withdignity. He continually got fatter, waxing on misfortune. And--anothercurious thing--he could always bring out, when advisable, a shining suitof dark blue broadcloth, a clean collar and a fancy necktie. He was nota consistent dandy, but he could be a dandy when he liked.Of course, he had no trade. The manual skill of a policeman is uselessoutside the police force. One cannot sell it in other markets. Peoplesaid that Chadwick was a fool to leave the police force. He was; but hewas a sublime and dignified fool in his idle folly. What he wanted was aposition of trust, a position where nothing would be required from himbut a display of portliness, majesty and incorruptibility. Suchpositions are not easy to discover. Employers had no particularobjection to portliness, majesty and incorruptibility, but as a rulethey demanded something else into the bargain. Chadwick's firstsituation after his defection from the police was that of night watchmanin an earthenware manufactory down by the canal at Shawport. He acceptedit regretfully, and he firmly declined to see the irony of fate inforcing such a post on a man who conscientiously objected to night duty.He did not maintain this post long, and his reasons for giving it upwere kept a dark secret. Some said that Chadwick's natural tendency tosleep at night had been taken amiss by his master.Thenceforward he went through transformation after transformation,outvying the legendary chameleon. He was a tobacconist, a park-keeper, arent collector, a commission agent, a clerk, another clerk, stillanother clerk, a sweetstuff seller, a fried fish merchant, a coalagent, a book agent, a pawnbroker's assistant, a dog-breeder, adoor-keeper, a board-school keeper, a chapel-keeper, a turnstile man atfootball matches, a coachman, a carter, a warehouseman, and achucker-out at the Empire Music Hall at Hanbridge. But he was nothinglong. The explanations of his changes were invariably vague, unseizable.And his dignity remained unimpaired, together with his broadcloth. Henot only had dignity for himself, but enough left over to decorate thecalling which he happened for the moment to be practising. He wasdignified in the sale of rock-balls, and especially so in encounterswith his creditors; and his grandeur when out of a place was a model toall unemployed.Further, he was ever a pillar and aid of the powers. He worshippedorder, particularly the old order, and wealth and correctness. He wasever with the strong against the weak, unless the weak happened to be anancient institution, in which case he would support it with all thevalour of his convictions. Needless to say, he was a very activepolitician. Perhaps the activity of his politics had something to dowith the frequency of his transformations--for he would always be hissomewhat spectacular self; he would always call his soul his own, and hewould quietly accept a snub from no man.And now he was a tram-conductor. Things had come to that.In the old days of the steam trams, where there were only about a scoreof tram-conductors and eight miles of line in all the Five Towns, theprofession of tram-conductor had still some individuality in it, and aconductor was something more than a number. But since the BritishElectric Traction Company had invaded the Five Towns, and formed asubsidiary local company, and constructed dozens of miles of new line,and electrified everything, and raised prices, and abolished seasontickets, and quickened services, and built hundreds of cars and engagedhundreds of conductors--since then a tram-conductor had been naught butan unhuman automaton in a vast machine-like organization. And passengersno longer had their favourite conductors.Gossips did not precisely see Thomas Chadwick as an unhuman automatonfor the punching of tickets and the ringing of bells and the ejaculationof street names. He was never meant by nature to be part of a system.Gossips hoped for the best. That Chadwick, at his age and with hisgirth, had been able, in his extremity, to obtain a conductorship wasproof that he could bring influences to bear in high quarters. Moreover,he was made conductor of one of two cars that ran on a little branchline between Bursley and Moorthorne, so that to the village ofMoorthorne he was still somebody, and the chances were just one to twothat persons who travelled by car from or to Moorthorne did so under themajestic wing of Thomas Chadwick. His manner of starting a car wasunique and stupendous. He might have been signalling "full speed ahead"from the bridge of an Atlantic liner.
IIChadwick's hours aboard his Atlantic liner were so long as to interfereseriously, not only with his leisure, but with his political activities.And this irked him the more for the reason that at that period localpolitics in the Five Towns were extremely agitated and interesting.People became politicians who had never been politicians before. Thequestion was, whether the Five Towns, being already one town inpractice, should not become one town in theory--indeed, the twelfthlargest town in the United Kingdom! And the district was divided intoFederationists and anti-Federationists. Chadwick was a convincedanti-Federationist. Chadwick, with many others, pointed to the historyof Bursley, "the mother of the Five Towns," a history which spread overa thousand years and more; and he asked whether "old Bursley" was tolose her identity merely because Hanbridge had insolently outgrown her.A poll was soon to be taken on the subject, and feelings were growinghotter every day, and rosettes of different colours flowered thicker andthicker in the streets, until nothing but a strong sense of politenessprevented members of the opposing parties from breaking each other'snoses in St Luke's Square.Now on a certain Tuesday afternoon in spring Tommy Chadwick's car stoodwaiting, opposite the Conservative Club, to depart to Moorthorne. AndTommy Chadwick stood in all his portliness on the platform. The driver,a mere nobody, was of course at the front of the car. The driver heldthe power, but he could not use it until Tommy Chadwick gave himpermission; and somehow Tommy's imperial attitude seemed to indicatethis important fact.There was not a soul in the car.Then Mrs Clayton Vernon came hurrying up the slope of Duck Bank andsignalled to Chadwick to wait for her. He gave her a wave of the arm,kindly and yet deferential, as if to say, "Be at ease, noble dame! Youare in the hands of a man of the world, who knows what is due to yourposition. This car shall stay here till you reach it, even if ThomasChadwick loses his situation for failing to keep time."And Mrs Clayton Vernon puffed into the car. And Thomas Chadwick gave hera helping hand, and raised his official cap to her with a dignifiedsweep; and his glance seemed to be saying to the world, "There, you seewhat happens when I deign to conduct a car! Even Mrs Clayton Vernontravels by car then." And the whole social level of the electrictramway system was apparently uplifted, and conductors became fine,portly court-chamberlains.For Mrs Clayton Vernon really was a personage in the town--perhaps,socially, the leading personage. A widow, portly as Tommy himself,wealthy, with a family tradition behind her, and the true grand mannerin every gesture! Her entertainments at her house at Hillport wereunsurpassed, and those who had been invited to them seldom forgot tomention the fact. Thomas, a person not easily staggered, wasnevertheless staggered to see her travelling by car to Moorthorne--evenin his car, which to him in some subtle way was not like commoncars--for she was seldom seen abroad apart from her carriage. She kepttwo horses. Assuredly both horses must be laid up together, or hercoachman ill. Anyhow, there she was, in Thomas's car, splendidly dressedin a new spring gown of flowered silk."Thank you," she said very sweetly to Chadwick, in acknowledgment of hisassistance.Then three men of no particular quality mounted the car."How do, Tommy?" one of them carelessly greeted the august conductor.This impertinent youth was Paul Ford, a solicitor's clerk, who oftenwent to Moorthorne because his employer had a branch office there, opentwice a week.Tommy did not respond, but rather showed his displeasure. He hated to becalled Tommy, except by a few intimate coevals."Now then, hurry up, please!" he said coldly."Right oh! your majesty," said another of the men, and they all threelaughed.What was still worse, they all three wore the Federationist rosette,which was red to the bull in Thomas Chadwick. It was part of Tommy'spolitical creed that Federationists were the "rag, tag, and bob-tail" ofthe town. But as he was a tram-conductor, though not an ordinarytram-conductor, his mouth was sealed, and he could not tell hispassengers what he thought of them.Just as he was about to pull the starting bell, Mrs Clayton Vernonsprang up with a little "Oh, I was quite forgetting!" and almost dartedout of the car. It was not quite a dart, for she was of full habit, butthe alacrity of her movement was astonishing. She must have forgottensomething very important.An idea in the nature of a political argument suddenly popped intoTommy's head, and it was too much for him. He was obliged to let it out.To the winds with that impartiality which a tram company expects fromits conductors!"Ah!" he remarked, jerking his elbow in the direction of Mrs ClaytonVernon and pointedly addressing his three Federationist passengers,"she's a lady, she is! She won't travel with anybody, she won't! Shechooses her company--and quite right too, I say!"And then he started the car. He felt himself richly avenged by thissally for the "Tommy" and the "your majesty" and the sneering laughter.Paul Ford winked very visibly at his companions, but made no answeringremark. And Thomas Chadwick entered the interior of the car to collectfares. In his hands this operation became a rite. His gestures seemed tosay, "No one ever appreciated the importance of the vocation oftram-conductor until I came. We will do this business solemnly andmeticulously. Mind what money you give me, count your change, and don'tlose, destroy, or deface this indispensable ticket that I hand to you.Do you hear the ting of my bell? It is a sign of my high office. I amfully authorized."When he had taken his toll he stood at the door of the car, which wasnow jolting and climbing past the loop-line railway station, andcontinued his address to the company about the aristocratic andexclusive excellences of his friend Mrs Clayton Vernon. He proceeded toexplain the demerits and wickedness of federation, and to descant on theabsurdity of those who publicly wore the rosettes of the Federationparty, thus branding themselves as imbeciles and knaves; in fact, histongue was loosed. Although he stooped to accept the wages of atram-conductor, he was not going to sacrifice the great political rightof absolutely free speech."If I wasn't the most good-natured man on earth, Tommy Chadwick," saidPaul Ford, "I should write to the tram company to-night, and you'd getthe boot to-morrow.""All I say is," persisted the singular conductor--"all I say is--she's alady, she is--a regular real lady! She chooses her company--and quiteright too! That I do say, and nobody's going to stop my mouth." Hismanner was the least in the world heated."What's that?" asked Paul Ford, with a sudden start, not inquiring whatThomas Chadwick's mouth was, but pointing to an object which was lyingon the seat in the corner which Mrs Clayton Vernon had too brieflyoccupied.He rose and picked up the object, which had the glitter of gold."Give it here," said Thomas Chadwick, commandingly. "It's none of yourbusiness to touch findings in my car;" and he snatched the object fromPaul Ford's hands.It was so brilliant and so obviously costly, however, that he wassomehow obliged to share the wonder of it with his passengers. The findlevelled all distinctions between them. A purse of gold chain-work, itindiscreetly revealed that it was gorged with riches. When you shook itthe rustle of banknotes was heard, and the chink of sovereigns, andthrough the meshes of the purse could be seen the white of valuablepaper and the tawny orange discs for which mankind is so ready to commitall sorts of sin. Thomas Chadwick could not forbear to open thecontrivance, and having opened it he could not forbear to count itscontents. There were, in that purse, seven five-pound notes, fifteensovereigns, and half a sovereign, and the purse itself was probablyworth twelve or fifteen pounds as mere gold."There's some that would leave their heads behind 'em if they could!"observed Paul Ford.Thomas Chadwick glowered at him, as if to warn him that in the presenceof Thomas Chadwick noble dames could not be insulted with impunity."Didn't I say she was a lady?" said Chadwick, holding up the purse asproof. "It's lucky it's me as has laid hands on it!" he added, plainlyimplying that the other occupants of the car were thieves whenever theyhad the chance."Well," said Paul Ford, "no doubt you'll get your reward all right!""It's not--" Chadwick began; but at that moment the driver stopped thecar with a jerk, in obedience to a waving umbrella. The conductor, whohad not yet got what would have been his sea-legs if he had been captainof an Atlantic liner, lurched forward, and then went out on to theplatform to greet a new fare, and his sentence was never finished.
IIIThat day happened to be the day of Thomas Chadwick's afternoon off; atleast, of what the tram company called an afternoon off. That is to say,instead of ceasing work at eleven-thirty p.m. he finished at six-thirtyp.m. In the ordinary way the company housed its last Moorthorne car ateleven-thirty (Moorthorne not being a very nocturnal village), and gavethe conductors the rest of the evening to spend exactly as they liked;but once a week, in turn, it generously allowed them a completeafternoon beginning at six-thirty.Now on this afternoon, instead of going home for tea, Thomas Chadwick,having delivered over his insignia and takings to the inspector inBursley market-place, rushed away towards a car bound for Hillport. Apoliceman called out to him:"Hi! Chadwick!""What's up?" asked Chadwick, unwillingly stopping."Mrs Clayton Vernon's been to the station an hour ago or hardly, about apurse as she says she thinks she must have left in your car. I was justcoming across to tell your inspector.""Tell him, then, my lad," said Chadwick, curtly, and hurried on towardsthe Hillport car. His manner to policemen always mingled the veteranwith the comrade, and most of them indeed regarded him as an initiate ofthe craft. Still, his behaviour on this occasion did somewhat surprisethe young policeman who had accosted him. And undoubtedly ThomasChadwick was scarcely acting according to the letter of the law. Hisproper duty was to hand over all articles found in his car instantly tothe police--certainly not to keep them concealed on his person with aview to restoring them with his own hands to their owners. But ThomasChadwick felt that, having once been a policeman, he was at liberty tointerpret the law to suit his own convenience. He caught the Hillportcar, and nodded the professional nod to its conductor, asking him atechnical question, and generally showing to the other passengers on theplatform that he was not as they, and that he had important officialprivileges. Of course, he travelled free; and of course he stopped thecar when, its conductor being inside, two ladies signalled to it at thebottom of Oldcastle Street. He had meant to say nothing whatever abouthis treasure and his errand to the other conductor; but somehow, whenfares had been duly collected, and these two stood chatting on theplatform, the gold purse got itself into the conversation, and presentlythe other conductor knew the entire history, and had even had a glimpseof the purse itself.Opposite the entrance to Mrs Clayton Vernon's grounds at Hillport ThomasChadwick slipped neatly, for all his vast bulk, off the swiftly-glidingcar. (A conductor on a car but not on duty would sooner perish by aheavy fall than have a car stopped in order that he might descend fromit.) And Thomas Chadwick heavily crunched the gravel of the driveleading up to Mrs Clayton Vernon's house, and imperiously rang the bell."Mrs Clayton Vernon in?" he officially asked the responding servant."She's in," said the servant. Had Thomas Chadwick been wearing hisbroadcloth she would probably have added "sir.""Well, will you please tell her that Mr Chadwick--Thomas Chadwick--wantsto speak to her?""Is it about the purse?" the servant questioned, suddenly brighteninginto eager curiosity."Never you mind what it's about, miss," said Thomas Chadwick, sternly.At the same moment Mrs Clayton Vernon's grey-curled head appeared behindthe white cap of the servant. Probably she had happened to catch someecho of Thomas Chadwick's great rolling voice. The servant retired."Good-evening, m'm," said Thomas Chadwick, raising his hat airily."Good-evening." He beamed."So you did find it?" said Mrs Vernon, calmly smiling. "I felt sure itwould be all right.""Oh, yes, m'm." He tried to persuade himself that this sublimeconfidence was characteristic of great ladies, and a laudable symptomof aristocracy. But he would have preferred her to be a little lessconfident. After all, in the hands of a conductor less honourable thanhimself, of a common conductor, the purse might not have been so "allright" as all that! He would have preferred to witness the change on MrsVernon's features from desperate anxiety to glad relief. After all, L50,10s. was money, however rich you were!"Have you got it with you?" asked Mrs Vernon."Yes'm," said he. "I thought I'd just step up with it myself, so as tobe sure.""It's very good of you!""Not at all," said he; and he produced the purse. "I think you'll findit as it should be."Mrs Vernon gave him a courtly smile as she thanked him."I'd like ye to count it, ma'am," said Chadwick, as she showed nointention of even opening the purse."If you wish it," said she, and counted her wealth and restored it tothe purse. "Quite right--quite right! Fifty pounds and tenshillings," she said pleasantly. "I'm very much obliged to you,Chadwick.""Not at all, m'm!" He was still standing in the sheltered porch.An idea seemed to strike Mrs Clayton Vernon."Would you like something to drink?" she asked."Well, thank ye, m'm," said Thomas."Maria," said Mrs Vernon, calling to someone within the house, "bringthis man a glass of beer." And she turned again to Chadwick, smittenwith another idea. "Let me see. Your eldest daughter has two littleboys, hasn't she?""Yes'm," said Thomas--"twins.""I thought so. Her husband is my cook's cousin. Well, here's twothreepenny bits--one for each of them." With some trouble she extractedthe coins from a rather shabby leather purse--evidently her householdpurse. She bestowed them upon the honest conductor with another gratefuland condescending smile. "I hope you don't mind taking them for thechicks," she said. "I do like giving things to children. It's so muchnicer, isn't it?""Certainly, m'm."Then the servant brought the glass of beer, and Mrs Vernon, with yetanother winning smile, and yet more thanks, left him to toss it off onthe mat, while the servant waited for the empty glass.
IVOn the following Friday afternoon young Paul Ford was again on theMoorthorne car, and subject to the official ministrations of ThomasChadwick. Paul Ford was a man who never bore malice when the bearing ofmalice might interfere with the gratification of his sense of humour.Many men--perhaps most men--after being so grossly insulted by atram-conductor as Paul Ford had been insulted by Chadwick, would at thenext meeting have either knocked the insulter down or coldly ignoredhim. But Paul Ford did neither. (In any case, Thomas Chadwick would havewanted a deal of knocking down.) For some reason, everything that ThomasChadwick said gave immense amusement to Paul Ford. So the young mancommenced the conversation in the usual way:"How do, Tommy?"The car on this occasion was coming down from Moorthorne into Bursley,with its usual bump and rattle of windows. As Thomas Chadwick made noreply, Paul Ford continued:"How much did she give you--the perfect lady, I mean?"Paul Ford was sitting near the open door. Thomas Chadwick gazedabsently at the Town Park, with its terra-cotta fountains and terraces,and beyond the Park, at the smoke rising from the distant furnaces ofRed Cow. He might have been lost in deep meditation upon the meanings oflife; he might have been prevented from hearing Paul Ford's question bythe tremendous noise of the car. He made no sign. Then all of a suddenhe turned almost fiercely on Paul Ford and glared at him."Ye want to know how much she gave me, do ye?" he demanded hotly."Yes," said Paul Ford."How much she gave me for taking her that there purse?" Tommy Chadwicktemporized.He was obliged to temporize, because he could not quite resolve to seizethe situation and deal with it once for all in a manner favourable tohis dignity and to the ideals which he cherished."Yes," said Paul Ford."Well, I'll tell ye," said Thomas Chadwick--"though I don't know as it'sany business of yours. But, as you're so curious!... She didn't give meanything. She asked me to have a little refreshment, like the lady sheis. But she knew better than to offer Thomas Chadwick any pecooniaryreward for giving her back something as she'd happened to drop. She's alady, she is!""Oh!" said Paul Ford. "It don't cost much, being a lady!""But I'll tell ye what she did do," Thomas Chadwick went on, anxious,now that he had begun so well, to bring the matter to an artisticconclusion--"I'll tell ye what she did do. She give me a sovereignapiece for my grandsons--my eldest daughter's twins." Then, after aneffective pause: "Ye can put that in your pipe and smoke it!... Asovereign apiece!""And have you handed it over?" Paul Ford inquired mildly, after aperiod of soft whistling."I've started two post-office savings bank accounts for 'em," saidThomas Chadwick, with ferocity.The talk stopped, and nothing whatever occurred until the car halted atthe railway station to take up passengers. The heart of Thomas Chadwickgave a curious little jump when he saw Mrs Clayton Vernon coming out ofthe station and towards his car. (Her horses must have been still lameor her coachman still laid aside.) She boarded the car, smiling with aquite particular effulgence upon Thomas Chadwick, and he greeted herwith what he imagined to be the true antique chivalry. And she sat downin the corner opposite to Paul Ford, beaming.When Thomas Chadwick came, with great respect, to demand her fare, shesaid:"By the way, Chadwick, it's such a short distance from the station tothe town, I think I should have walked and saved a penny. But I wantedto speak to you. I wasn't aware, last Tuesday, that your other daughtergot married last year and now has a dear little baby. I gave youthreepenny bits each for those dear little twins. Here's another one forthe other baby, I think I ought to treat all your grandchildrenalike--otherwise your daughters might be jealous of each other"--shesmiled archly, to indicate that this passage was humorous--"and there'sno knowing what might happen!"Mrs Clayton Vernon always enunciated her remarks in a loud and clearvoice, so that Paul Ford could not have failed to hear every word. Afaint but beatific smile concealed itself roguishly about Paul Ford'smouth, and he looked with a rapt expression on an advertisement aboveMrs Clayton Vernon's head, which assured him that, with a certain soap,washing-day became a pleasure.Thomas Chadwick might have flung the threepenny bit into the road. Hemight have gone off into language unseemly in a tram-conductor and agrandfather. He might have snatched Mrs Clayton Vernon's bonnet off andstamped on it. He might have killed Paul Ford (for it was certainly PaulFord with whom he was the most angry). But he did none of these things.He said, in his best unctuous voice:"Thank you, m'm, I'm sure!"And, at the journey's end, when the passengers descended, he stared aharsh stare, without winking, full in the face of Paul Ford, and hecourteously came to the aid of Mrs Clayton Vernon. He had proclaimed MrsClayton Vernon to be his ideal of a true lady, and he was heroicallyloyal to his ideal, a martyr to the cause he had espoused. Such a manwas not fitted to be a tram-conductor, and the Five Towns ElectricTraction Company soon discovered his unfitness--so that he was againthrown upon the world.
zpostcode
Recruit
weather
mreligion
Yellowpages
sport
constellation
shopping
name
game
directory
literature
Word
tour
furnish
Lottery
tftnews
lyrics
News
digital
car
dir
Edu
Finance
