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generation of 〃secondary education〃 at our ancient public schools
and the cheaper institutions that ape them will be quite
sufficient to keep the two going until the next war。 For the
instruction of that generation I leave these pages as a record of
what civilian life was during the war： a matter on which history
is usually silent。 Fortunately it was a very short war。 It is
true that the people who thought it could not last more than six
months were very signally refuted by the event。 As Sir Douglas
Haig has pointed out； its Waterloos lasted months instead of
hours。 But there would have been nothing surprising in its
lasting thirty years。 If it had not been for the fact that the
blockade achieved the amazing feat of starving out Europe； which
it could not possibly have done had Europe been properly
organized for war； or even for peace； the war would have lasted
until the belligerents were so tired of it that they could no
longer be compelled to compel themselves to go on with it。
Considering its magnitude； the war of 1914…18 will certainly be
classed as the shortest in history。 The end came so suddenly that
the combatant literally stumbled over it； and yet it came a full
year later than it should have come if the belligerents had not
been far too afraid of one another to face the situation
sensibly。 Germany； having failed to provide for the war she
began； failed again to surrender before she was dangerously
exhausted。 Her opponents； equally improvident； went as much too
close to bankruptcy as Germany to starvation。 It was a bluff at
which both were bluffed。 And； with the usual irony of war； it
remains doubtful whether Germany and Russia； the defeated； will
not be the gainers； for the victors are already busy fastening on
themselves the chains they have struck from the limbs of the
vanquished。
How the Theatre fared
Let us now contract our view rather violently from the European
theatre of war to the theatre in which the fights are sham
fights； and the slain； rising the moment the curtain has fallen；
go comfortably home to supper after washing off their rose…pink
wounds。 It is nearly twenty years since I was last obliged to
introduce a play in the form of a book for lack of an opportunity
of presenting it in its proper mode by a performance in a
theatre。 The war has thrown me back on this expedient。 Heartbreak
House has not yet reached the stage。 I have withheld it because
the war has completely upset the economic conditions which
formerly enabled serious drama to pay its way in London。 The
change is not in the theatres nor in the management of them； nor
in the authors and actors； but in the audiences。 For four years
the London theatres were crowded every night with thousands of
soldiers on leave from the front。 These soldiers were not
seasoned London playgoers。 A childish experience of my own gave
me a clue to their condition。 When I was a small boy I was taken
to the opera。 I did not then know what an opera was； though I
could whistle a good deal of opera music。 I had seen in my
mother's album photographs of all the great opera singers； mostly
in evening dress。 In the theatre I found myself before a gilded
balcony filled with persons in evening dress whom I took to be
the opera singers。 I picked out one massive dark lady as Alboni；
and wondered how soon she would stand up and sing。 I was puzzled
by the fact that I was made to sit with my back to the singers
instead of facing them。 When the curtain went up； my astonishment
and delight were unbounded。
The Soldier at the Theatre Front
In 1915； I saw in the theatres men in khaki in just the same
predicament。 To everyone who had my clue to their state of mind
it was evident that they had never been in a theatre before and
did not know what it was。 At one of our great variety theatres I
sat beside a young officer； not at all a rough specimen； who；
even when the curtain rose and enlightened him as to the place
where he had to look for his entertainment； found the dramatic
part of it utterly incomprehensible。 He did not know how to play
his part of the game。 He could understand the people on the stage
singing and dancing and performing gymnastic feats。 He not only
understood but intensely enjoyed an artist who imitated cocks
crowing and pigs squeaking。 But the people who pretended that
they were somebody else； and that the painted picture behind them
was real； bewildered him。 In his presence I realized how very
sophisticated the natural man has to become before the
conventions of the theatre can be easily acceptable； or the
purpose of the drama obvious to him。
Well； from the moment when the routine of leave for our soldiers
was established； such novices； accompanied by damsels （called
flappers） often as innocent as themselves； crowded the theatres
to the doors。 It was hardly possible at first to find stuff crude
enough to nurse them on。 The best music…hall comedians ransacked
their memories for the oldest quips and the most childish antics
to avoid carrying the military spectators out of their depth。 I
believe that this was a mistake as far as the novices were
concerned。 Shakespeare； or the dramatized histories of George
Barnwell； Maria Martin； or the Demon Barber of Fleet Street；
would probably have been quite popular with them。 But the novices
were only a minority after all。 The cultivated soldier； who in
time of peace would look at nothing theatrical except the most
advanced postIbsen plays in the most artistic settings； found
himself； to his own astonishment； thirsting for silly jokes；
dances； and brainlessly sensuous exhibitions of pretty girls。 The
author of some of the most grimly serious plays of our time told
me that after enduring the trenches for months without a glimpse
of the female of his species； it gave him an entirely innocent
but delightful pleasure merely to see a flapper。 The reaction
from the battle…field produced a condition of hyperaesthesia in
which all the theatrical values were altered。 Trivial things
gained intensity and stale things novelty。 The actor； instead of
having to coax his audiences out of the boredom which had driven
them to the theatre in an ill humor to seek some sort of
distraction； had only to exploit the bliss of smiling men who
were no longer under fire and under military discipline； but
actually clean and comfortable and in a mood to be pleased with
anything and everything that a bevy of pretty girls and a funny
man； or even a bevy of girls pretending to be pretty and a man
pretending to be funny； could do for them。
Then could be seen every night in the theatres oldfashioned
farcical comedies； in which a bedroom； with four doors on each
side and a practicable window in the middle； was understood to
resemble exactly the bedroom in the flats beneath and above； all
three inhabited by couples consumed with jealousy。 When these
people came home drunk at night； mistook their neighbor's flats
for their own； and in due course got into the wrong beds； it was
not only the novices who found the resulting complications and
scandals exquisitely ingenious and amusing； nor their equally
verdant flappers who could not help squealing in a manner that
astonished the oldest performers when the gentleman who had just
come in drunk through the window pretended to undress； and
allowed glimpses of his naked person to be descried from time to
time。
Heartbreak House
Men who had just read the news that Charles Wyndham was dying；
and were thereby sadly reminded of Pink Dominos and the torrent
of farcical comedies that followed it in his heyday until every
trick of that trade had become so stale that the laughter they
provoked turned to loathing： these veterans also； when they
returned from the field； were as much pleased by what they knew
to be stale and foolish as the novices by what they thought fresh
and clever。
Commerce in the Theatre
Wellington said that an army moves on its belly。 So does a London
theatre。 Before a man acts he must eat。 Before he performs plays
he must pay rent。 In London we have no theatres for the welfare
of the people： they are all for the sole purpose of producing the
utmost obtainable rent for the proprietor。 If the twin flats and
twin beds produce a guinea more than Shakespeare； out goes
Shakespeare and in come the twin flats and the twin beds。 If the
brainless bevy of pretty girls and the funny man outbid Mozart；
out goes Mozart。
Unser Shakespeare
Before the war an effort was made to remedy this by establishing
a national theatre in celebration of the tercentenary of the
death of Shakespeare。 A committee was formed； and all sorts of
illustrious and influential persons lent their names to a grand
appeal to our national culture。 My play； The Dark Lady of The
Sonnets； was one of the incidents of that appeal。 After some
years of effort the result was a single handsome subscription
from a German gentleman。 Like the celebrated swearer in the
anecdote when the cart containing all his household goods lost
its tailboard at the top of the hill and let its contents roll in
ruin to the bottom； I can only say； 〃I cannot do justice to this
situation；〃 and let it pass wit