WHAT OF THE HARVEST? 261 



It is strange to learn that before the men on a certain 

 great duke's estate decided to join a union they asked for 

 his sanction. The duke graciously conceded this their 

 right as Englishmen even though only labourers to 

 protect themselves. 



But the most amusing incident of all happened to a trade 

 union organiser in Wiltshire. His rostrum was a roadside 

 bank, and his audience lined up in extended order behind 

 the hedge to listen. Presently a well-known figure rode 

 proudly by. Every labourer's head immediately disap- 

 peared below that hedge as though a German machine-gun 

 were enfilading the road, whilst the rider rode on staring 

 hard into the face of the astonished and silent orator, erect 

 and bare-headed on the bank. 



It was during the earlier years of the war when the 

 greatest hostility was shown to organisers. In Nottingham, 

 young farmers, who should have been displaying their pug- 

 nacity at the Front, found a safer place for displaying it 

 at open-air meetings held in English villages. Here the 

 organiser was met with threats of violence and filthy lan- 

 guage. 1 So bitter was the opposition in one village that 

 both the Vicar and his wife came to the meeting to appeal 

 to the farmers " to preserve the fair name of the community 

 and the rights of British citizenship." On the following 

 Sunday the Vicar reproached those who had acted so un- 

 fairly, declaring that " while he did not hold with all that 

 had been spoken at the meeting, a case had in his opinion 

 been made out for a vast improvement in the lot of the 

 agricultural labourer." 



Another incident occurred in one of Mr. Mackley's meet- 

 ings at Bingham market place, where the Rector displayed 

 a spirit worthy of Bishop Ellicott of Arch's days. He 

 suggested in his Parish Magazine that if the Union speakers 

 dared to come to the parish again they should have " free 

 baptism in the rectory pond." 2 This was the kind of chal- 

 lenge dear to the heart of Mr. Mackley, and it lured him to 

 the spot again like a magnet ; but he found every public 



1 The Labourer, 1915. * Ibid., January, 1916. 



