Chapter 27: Chapter 27
The display window of the music shop had consisted of four large glass panels set in wooden frames. They had been smashed by the infamous Benno and replaced temporarily by rough wooden hoardings nailed to the lintels. Already enterprising
bill-stickers had been at work and decorated them with posters for shows and
musical performances. They even found one of these people busily over-pasting all of
the previously placed advertisements with a series of garish cartoon posters extolling
the value of a new brand of soap.
Mr. Gladman came up and waved his stick at the man. "What do you think you're
doing?" he demanded.
"I'm doin' me job!" the billposter replied. "Clear off and find somewhere else to put up
your bills. I saw this place first. Tell yer what," he said pointing to where the show
girls were parading on the other hoarding, painted in salmon pink flesh and wearing
costumes that Mr. Gladman hardly cared to look at. "You can have the other half; but
you'd better be quick. These windows was only broken yesterday and the other
blokes'll be down like flies as soon as they hear about it; and some of them don't care
what they do." He ignored Mr. Gladman's complaints after that, hurrying to get the
posters firmly stuck to the hoardings. It took some minutes to convince the man that
he really was being addressed by the proprietor of the shop. At last he finished
the job and went away grumbling, under threat of being handed over to the police.
Luckily the glass in the top half of the doors in the centre of the shop facade had not
been broken and two dusty skylights gave some illumination; even with the display
windows boarded up the light in the shop was subdued but not gloomy.
Mr. Gladman kept stepping out on to the footpath to survey the facade. "We must get
those wretched posters off the front of the shop. They will be most damaging by
giving people a wrong impression of my business. Besides they might be seen by
members of the Brethren; what will they think if my shop front is carrying
advertisements for soap, and musical shows with pictures of semi-clad women." He
self consciously turned his face away from this abominable sight."
Fox shook his head. "I wouldn't worry if I were you. If I understand Mr. Pryor
correctly you will soon have signs out front that will make you wish you had the
ladies back again."
"Now look here," said Mr. Gladman, "I didn't ask for any of this. I suppose I could
suspend judgement on your connection with the smashing of my windows but I will
not permit these premises to be turned into a centre of public curiosity. I have told
you before, Mr. Fox, decorum and dignity is all in all in the music business. If I do not
conduct my business discreetly my clients will patronise other establishments and I
am facing enough difficulty as it is without endeavouring to make matters worse."
Fox did not argue but he thought that Mr. Gladman's views on decorum in the music
business were about to be tested. His attention was distracted by the arrival of a
person who may have been the first client of the day.
He was mistaken. This man, a self important individual of stocky build, was wearing a
black felt hat with a flat top and had a full, black beard and shaven upper lip. His suit
was the same sombre colour as the hat, relieved only by a white shirt which buttoned
up under his chin. He may have worn a tie but if so it was covered by the beard.
"Ah, Brother Gladman!" he cried on sighting that individual. Mr. Gladman was wary at
encountering the newcomer and they shook hands solemnly.
"The Devil has been active in Bourke Street, Brother Gladman. I see that he has laid
siege to your shop. Not only to smash your windows, which I read about in the
papers this morning, but he came back like a thief in the night to put those depraved
pictures on the front of your establishment. Pull them off, Brother Gladman, scrape
them off. Gaudy representations of shameless, semi-clad women will lure our young
people to destruction. Never let it be said that your business fostered Satan's
business, for there is enough sin in Bourke Street, the Devil's very stamping ground,
without him using a Christian establishment, such as this, to spread his evil."
"They are to come down directly," replied Mr. Gladman showing signs of
embarrassment at the preaching of this gentleman and his exhortations to purify, at
least, that little part of the city. "I assure you, Elder Muirhead, I have only just arrived
myself. I have been busy informing the authorities as to my knowledge of this outrage
and, as you know, these things take time."
Elder Muirhead nodded. "We must battle the Evil One where and how we can, but I
have been told that the smashing of your windows was the work of a Fenian gang. Is
that true?"
"It may be so, but I saw only one man during the attack and he uttered the most
horrifying abuse against me and the Protestant faith." Mr. Gladman turned and
glanced reproachfully at Gabriel. "I have met him before and faced him down with the
true words of the gospel so that he could not stand in open debate before me. But he
did breathe out threatenings and slaughter. I know him to be a drunken Catholic, Irish
wharf labourer."
Elder Muirhead held up his hand. "Brother Gladman, you are like unto Uriah the
Hittite; the Lord hath placed thee in the forefront of the battle against the forces of
darkness. You know well that I did not approve of your joining the congregation
because of this very business in which you were engaged." He indicated the shop.
"Music is carnal in its nature unless it is sung and played in the service of the Lord,
but I see that the He moves in mysterious ways His wonders to perform. I have never
set foot in an establishment such as yours before but if I had time I would be pleased
to inspect it and hear about your ordeal from your own lips. The whole story will be
dealt with fully in the next issue of 'The Rock''.
'' Good Protestants all over Victoria will become aware that the battle is at hand when
they must choose sides, for the whirlwind is almost upon them. They will learn that
the first blow has been struck here, in Bourke Street, and that you are amongst the
foremost of the warriors of the Lord."
Mr. Gladman was clearly at a loss. He nervously clutched the two halves of his
whiskers in his fists and stared in astonishment at his fiery companion.
"Perhaps it was just an isolated outrage. I think the fellow was drunk and wanted to
vent his spite."
"Nonsense, man! The first shot has been fired to establish the Pope as the ruler of
Australia. Pikes and guns, Mr. Gladman. Pikes and guns, that is what we need
because it will come to a field, mark my words. It will be your duty to command a
company."
"Command a company! You must be mad!
"No, Brother Gladman, sane. Remember, the great Oliver Cromwell himself knew not
war until he was in his forties, but he fought gloriously for the true faith. We expect
great things of you, Brother Gladman. You shall fight at Armageddon with the same
power and strength as Mr. Greatheart of old. We know that you will atone, perhaps
with your life, for the sinful nature of your calling."
Mr. Gladman stood with his mouth open, unable to speak
"How many times have I told you from the pulpit that The Scarlet Woman is
mustering her legions for the attack and we must prepare to defend our lives and
homes. Who would have thought in this far flung corner of the empire that it would
fall on us to defend the Glorious Revolution of 1688 and the Act of Settlement." He
changed suddenly. "Brother Gladman, I cannot spend the time with you that I would
wish; it is my duty to call on the other faithful Protestants of this city and tell them
that the hour is at hand. I must ring the tocsin, the great warning bell of liberty. I shall
see you on Sunday morning at the temple. You are to describe your experiences to the
brothers and sisters there assembled and I will follow to lift their hearts and prepare
their spirits for the struggles to come. In the meantime, Brother Gladman, call on all
true friends you meet to rally at the Chapel of the Brethren on the next day of
Sabbath. I too will be out in the highways and the by-ways calling on all honest
Christians to gird themselves for battle. By the grace of God I bid you farewell."
He had trumpeted the last part of his speech so loudly and from the middle of the
pavement that a number of people walking by turned in astonishment to look. He
ignored them, did not see them, and bustled off to spread his tidings of the coming
battles.
Gabriel listened to some of his speech but lost interest and had gone back into the
shop. He was pleased to encounter an employee of Mr. Gladman whom he had not
met before.
This new member of the staff was a woman who had skirted the two men talking on
the footpath. She had come in to put on a dust wrap take off her bonnet and cover her
hair with a scarf.
Mr. Gladman's last attempt to hire an assistant having ended badly he had
compromised for the time being by engaging a lady to come in three times a week to
dust and polish and help straighten up the lighter instruments and stock. She could
demonstrate some of the musical instruments from stock but without Fox's easy skill
and musical talent.
This new employee was a reduced gentlewoman whose late husband had been an
innocent and had lost his money in an ill-advised purchase of gold mining shares. He
had not understood that the shares were only partly paid and had scraped together
the money to pay several calls b0efore the mine was eventually declared worthless
and the company bankrupt, leaving him in the same condition.
After this shock his health declined and he died leaving his wife, Mrs.. Goss, without
means. She was glad to get work in the music shop. It was a cut above scrubbing
floors or working as a maid. While they were there a few people attracted by the
appearance of disaster came to the door and peered in, none entered and this gave
Mrs. Goss a chance to talk to Fox as she dusted and they moved some of the
instruments to show them better.
Mr. Gladman came in greatly troubled. "That was Elder Muirhead," he announced, "he
is a man born to lead and to deal with the burning issues of the day, perhaps the
colony is too small for his outstanding talents."
Fox had the opinion that Elder Muirhead was a bigger religious crank than Gladman.
He had more ability, was more enthusiastic, and so was going to cause more trouble.
"Confidentially, Mr. Fox," said the proprietor, drawing him to the back of the shop,
"seeing you know this man that smashed my windows, is he part of a plot to create a
Catholic ascendancy in Victoria?"
"Never!" said Fox. "When he is not working he goes to the pub during the week and to
St Francis' Church for mass. Certainly you upset him when he heard you talking
about Catholics and sometimes he broods about the wrongs of the Irish when the
booze is in him, but he would not know anything about plots or conspiracies."
Mr. Gladman confessed, "I must admit that Elder Muirhead's words have shaken me!
I have long believed that the Irish were planning to seize government in the colony
one day, but not by force. They agitate for the taxpayers to support their schools and
no doubt they can outbreed us and put their own men into Parliament. Such a
prospect is serious enough but when Elder Muirhead speaks of guns and pikes and a
field of battle I fear he may be going too far. Did you hear him say that I was to lead a
company? What would I know about giving orders to fighting men?"
"Well you had better think about it; but if you and the Irish do have a battle I won't be
enlisting on either side. You can settle your arguments without me and I will read the
papers afterwards to find out who won."
Mr. Gladman did not discern any humour in these remarks. He still walked around
with his fists buried in his beard as a sign of agitation. He was distracted and aimless
and was no help to the other two as they worked their way through the shop dusting
and tidying.
One or two customers came in at last, not put off by the sight of the heavy wooden
hoardings on the shop front, and Fox sold them tin whistles or other trumpery
instruments as Christmas gifts for children. He could play them all and after a
demonstration his customers were pleased to buy. Some sheet music went off too. Mr.
Gladman told him the prices of these items when asked but otherwise barely noticed,
he was still deep in thought.
Mr. Gladman's thoughts were interrupted by a thumping noise from outside. Ladders
were being leant against the facade of his building. James Pryor and the sign-writers
had arrived at the same time, and the men were busy measuring the area to be
covered with announcements.
"I got them," announced Pryor stepping through the door. "They didn't want to
stir out of their workshop, it was too close to Christmas and they had a lot of other
work on, but I talked them round. It will be just a rough job, George, but then the
timber should come down early in the new year when the glazier gets round to
mending the window. We'll get them to pull those posters off and they can do a sign
saying 'Billposters Prosecuted'."
Mr. Gladman coolly ignored the remarks addressed to him. He was in some doubt
whether he was more offended at being addressed familiarly in this way by a man so
much younger than himself, or worried at what was going to happen to his shop.
"There's not a German Band in sight up and down Bourke Street or Swanston Street."
James Pryor continued, "You would think they'd be around when they were wanted. If
you see one George can give the leader five shillings and tell them to play Christmas
Carols outside the door this afternoon and they're to crowd the footpath so people
have to walk on the road or go into the music shop. I met a friend of mine on the way
round here, he's a theatrical agent, and he knows the town pretty well. I told him to
get hold of half a dozen unemployed larrikins; we'll use them tomorrow to carry
sandwich boards and signs. The painter said they should be ready by then."
"Larrikins?" trumpeted Mr. Gladman, who had become more and more agitated as Mr.
Pryor's plans unfolded. "Am I to understand that you are going to hire unemployed
larrikins to parade up and down the city advertising my shop? Now, look here, I have
had a lot to endure since yesterday but I will not cheapen my good name and the good
name of my business with such a disgraceful course of conduct, and as for having a
German Band hired to force customers into my shop it is just too much; I forbid it!"
James Pryor was not the sort to give up a project easily. He put his hand under Mr.
Gladman's elbow and guided him to a further corner of the shop where he was able to
address him without interruption. The rise and fall of his oratory interrupted by the
proprietor's complaints could be heard as Fox went to attend the few customers who
had braved the painter's ladders and planks to come into the shop.
"Isn't it exciting," whispered Mrs. Goss when they had gone carrying their purchases.
"I'm not sorry old Big Tummy Gladman had his windows smashed. This place needed
brightening up and I think you two can do it: and the way he goes on about the
Chinese and the Irish; really, it's not the sort of thing I've been used to; Mr. Goss was a
very gentlemanly man and I never heard him say a word against anyone."
She was interrupted for Mr. Pryor suddenly dashed outside to the footpath; he almost
ran, which was unusual for him. Once there he tipped his hat on to the back of his
head and stood studying the shop front while deep in thought. He came back in again,
his face alight with inspiration. "I just had a boomer of an idea," he said to the puzzled
Mr. Gladman. "We will have a space cleared behind the left hand window so we can
use it as a sort of stage to show off the instruments. The hoarding can come down
during the day and there will be entertainment going all the time. The German Band,
yes, we will have them in during the day for about half an hour a time. When they're
not here, Gabby, you can play some of the instruments out of stock; an organ, a piano,
a tin whistle." He caught sight of the harp. "Can anyone work that thing?"
"I can," announced Mrs. Goss. "My father gave me the very best of education. I went to
a finishing school in the south of England and I learned music theory and harp. They
were my best subjects."
"That's marvellous," cried Mr. Pryor. "You wouldn't mind wearing a long white robe
and a pair of wings while you were playing, would you.?"
Mr. Gladman interrupted; he had been outraged at all he had heard but this last
suggestion was too much, "Blasphemy!" he cried. "Have you no shame?"
James Pryor shrugged, "forget the wings." He took the unhappy Mr. Gladman once
more by the arm. "Now, George, you've got work to do. I want you to run over to the
employment agency and ask if they can spare a couple of strong blokes to shift the
stock and to lift down the hoarding. You will need rope, too. Well, isn't it obvious? The
hoarding will have to go somewhere. It will either have to be taken away during the
day or stood upright and tied to a veranda post. Don't argue, man, there's work to be
done."
Mr. Gladman had been tugging so much at his beard because of his agitation that it
was quite disarrayed, and ,on receiving these new instructions, he was in a state of
mind that caused him to cross the road without his hat. He was opposed to all of Mr.
Pryor's suggestion but such was the force of that young man's personality that he did
not know how to resist.
On the front of his shop big, flaming red letters were being formed which read:
DISASTER SALE - ALL STOCK MUST GO.
On the other side, on the hoarding which was to be taken down to expose the interior
of the shop, the painters were about to set out the words:
ATTACKS AND THREATS WILL NOT CLOSE US.
lAlready inquisitive people were gathering on the footpath to read the signs and to
see what would be written in smaller letters underneath.
"Allright," said Mr. Pryor, having delegated all tasks, "I'm off. Make sure they clear a
big enough space for you to work in and keep an eye on Gladman. Right now he's
liable to do anything. You will only be here about three days because after Christmas
we will need you at the office. Next year we're going to sell more land, houses and
buildings than ever before. I've been thinking about that, we should get a team of
bright young blokes to sell for us and you can be in charge. I'll come round after
lunch," he said, "and see how you're getting on. Tell them to tie the hoarding to the
veranda post It won't block the footpath and if the police want it shifted I'll have a
chat with the Sergeant. Don't admit to anything, just leave it to me to do the talking."
Mr. Gladman never forgot that day or the Christmas Eve that followed. He was not
sure if the embarrassment he felt at the gaudiness and vulgarity of Mr. Pryor's
campaign was compensated for by the money it brought in.
The sales campaign was the most popular event in Melbourne that Christmas. Several
times the police had to move the crowd that gathered outside the music shop while a
performance of sorts went on inside.
The Sergeant came in twice to warn them not to obstruct the pavement. The second
time he did so Mr. Pryor happened to be there to point out that neither Mr. Gladman
nor his assistants were breaking any city ordinances. They were not playing
instruments on the footpath and shopkeepers had an ancient right, mentioned in
Magna Carta, to attract passers-by to look in at their windows by any means which
did not offend public morals or lead to a breach of the peace. The fact that Mr.
Gladman's windows no longer existed was not his fault, but the principle was the
same. He was more successful than most in inducing people to stop and look at his
display and listen to his music but this should not be held against him or his
establishment.
The Sergeant went away after this to ask his superiors what, if any, action they
wanted him to take about this activity in Bourke Street. He did not come back so they
continued to play to the crowd.
The excitement grew yet again when Mr. Pryor's theatrical agent started sending
down artists who could perform within the confines of the shop. The agent was
getting his start in business by organising concerts and plays and was glad of this
opportunity to employ some artistes for a short time. He hoped someday to emulate
Mr. Coppin by establishing a circuit of theatres and country halls for his productions.
He was enthusiastic when told about the impromptu concert and engaged the first
performers he could locate; they were Irish musicians who had been in his office
seeking work at the very moment he learned from Mr. Pryor of this new business
opportunity.
The Irish artists had presented themselves in the full rig of plaids and kilts while Mr.
Pryor was present. He and the agent led them to the skirl of the pipes and the beat of
the drum the length of Bourke Street.
Everyone heard the music as they approached, led by Mr. Pryor and Mr. Edmunds.
The two men marched together to the music and raised their shiny hats to right and
left as the crowds parted before them and the police stopped all traffic at
intersections to let them through.
No one watching as they passed could be ignorant of their destination. Some
unemployed men had been rounded up and fitted with hurriedly prepared sandwich
boards which proclaimed the wonderful bargains and service available at Gladman's
music shop. They shambled along at the rear of the little procession.
Mr. Gladman, pale-faced, huddled in the back of his shop as the musicians stood in a
small circle on the pavement and played what the agent announced to the applauding
crowd was a lament for the wickedness of those who would invade and destroy the
sanctity of private property.
They were ordered off the footpath by an indignant policeman, but that was alright;
they merely filed inside and continued their recital in the shop while people crowded
round the opening left by the smashed windows.
This display was considered scandalous and talked about for days because one artiste
was a lady piper, something never before seen in Melbourne. She was also a dancer,
and when she put down her pipes the sight of her socks flashing in Mr. Gladman's
shop as she danced reels and jigs was a sensation; people jostled and struggled to see
this spectacle. The exhibition would almost have justified police intervention except
that they were unable to observe the display over the heads of the crowd no matter
how much they craned or stood on tiptoe.
Mr. Gladman ordered these strangers out of the shop but he was scarcely heard over
the noise made by pipe and drum and the clapping of the crowd as the dancer, who
was leaping higher and higher, came to the climax of her performance.
His orders were in vain for when the girl stood panting and bowing and the musicians
were bowing with her the cheering audience seemed to think that Mr. Gladman was
part of the act. They gave him a special round of applause when he tried to address
them to disclaim all responsibility for the spectacle and explain about the moral
dangers into which dancing could lead unsuspecting persons.
Mr. Pryor waved him away and invited those present on the footpath to step inside
and view the valuable and extensive stock of musical instruments saved from
destruction during the recent outrageous attack. He hinted that if they wished to
preserve civilisation from its enemies and arrest the onward march of anarchism and
disorder they would do well to support Mr. Gladman, their great champion.
His eloquence was much admired by Mr. Edmunds, who was the ambitious theatrical
agent. He saw that some of the more respectable members of the crowd stayed
behind to look around the shop and they even made purchases in spite of Mr.
Gladman's fears.
"You should be in Parliament," said Edmunds encouragingly. "We need men like you
at the top if this colony is going to boom, as it should. You could stand in the
conservative interest. God knows, we've got enough miners, shopkeepers, publicans,
remittance men, and stump orators to serve every parliament in Australia. What we
need are men of principle, business men who know what's good for Victoria and are
prepared to stand up for our rights."
"Fox overheard this conversation while he was showing a customer some sheet
music. James Pryor smiled and with a light remark turned the conversation away on
to another topic but Fox could see the suggestion would not be forgotten or ignored.
Mr. Gladman wandered round distractedly. He could not concentrate on selling
anything and could not decide whether his outrage at the liberties they were taking
with his business compensated for the sight of so many customers on the premises.
One lady asked for a demonstration of the harp and Mrs. Goss obliged. She and Fox
found some suitable music and he sat down at the piano to accompany her playing.
Everyone in the store and people walking past stopped to listen for the two of them
played together very sweetly.
At this time Amy and the captain arrived to view the damage but came in when they
saw the crowds around the music shop. Amy walked up to Gabriel and kissed him
firmly on the cheek, a demonstration, Gabriel thought, to show other ladies in the
shop that he was her property.
''Sir Thomas shrugged, he said to Gabriel. ''I believe you two will be dancing tonight to
the music of Strauss. I enjoy dancing and asked if I could come too, but your young
lady told me very firmly that I would not be welcome. The night is to be for you two
alone. You know, if I wasn't old enough to be her father, and a married man, I'd be
trying to take her away from you and I'd be escorting her to the dance myself.''
''Dream on,'' retorted Amy. ''I'd have to be desparate to go to a dance with you.''
''Well, are you desparate enough to sing duets with me?''
''Yes, I'm that desparate,''
They riffled through the sheet music on display and brought a sample over to spread
on the piano. ''We found some duets for you,'' said Sir Thomas. I'm dedicating the first
song to you and Amy.''
Gabriel looked at the sheet. It was a song he knew well, and so did the singers. They
had sung it often on the ship to his piano. He played a few bars of music to quieten the
audience and then Sir Thomas sang in a voice pitched to the very edge of the crowd,
and beyond to the street.
On yonder hill there stands a maiden,
Who she is I do not know.
I'll go and court for her beauty,
She must answer yes, or no.
To which Amy responded
Oh no Tom, no Tom no Tom No.
This went on for several verses with the young man pressing his suit but always
getting the same answer until the last verse when he tried a different tack and sang --
Oh hark, I hear the church bells ringing
Will you come and be my wife,
Or, dear madam, have you settled
To live single all your life?
To which Amy replied,archly, and in the sweetest tones -
Oh no Tom, no Tom no Tom No
They were applauded loudly after this and there were cries of 'More!! More. Bravo!!
Sir Thomas leaned down and spoke quietly into Gabriel's ear. ''That was like you and
Amy. He kept on chasing the girl until she caught him.''
''I heard that,'' said Amy. ''You'll apologise right now.''
''I won't apologise, because it's true. All I can say in my defence is that I wish I had half
his luck