END OF THE GREAT WAR - Nov 16, 1918

[Above] A joyous crowd in Mercers Row.

The news of the "cease fire" flashed through the homes and factories as though by magic.

People rushed excitedly through the streets, shouting "It's over."  Windows were flung open,

factories and schools closed down, and flags of all sorts, sizes and colours, sprang suddenly to sight

in a mystifying abundance.

It was noticeable that is was chiefly the young who demonstrated their joy with waving flags and

songs of victory.  The middle-aged, the old, seeing things, perhaps in a truer perspective, could not

forget the agonies of nearly five years of the most terrible war in history now that the mutual slaughter

was over.  They were subdued and by no means inclined for festivities.  Relief and a great thankfulness

were in their hearts - just that and nothing more.

It was wonderful where the crowds of young people and soldiers sprang from when official news of the

armistice was received.  An almost deserted town was galvanised into life, and neither leaden sky nor

dismal damped the ardour of youth determined to make the most of what was, after all, the greatest

news of the century.  Girls in closing rooms threw down their work and cakewalked down the floor

regardless of authority.  When the news filtered into the factories further work was impossible, and

the closed for the day.  Flag vendors, the sellers of anything with a bit of red, white and blue attached,

did a roaring business.  Soon the streets were full of parading crowds gaily bedecked with patriotic colours,

singing the latest music hall successes, and making the air discordant with those mysterious "blowers" which

on all such occasions appear in profusion.  Every solder had a lass or two, or three or more, for they were the

heroes of the hour.  Soon the Church bells rang out the glad tidings, and the delirium of youthful rejoicing

became more exuberant in the evening when, with the unshaded lights in the shop windows, and the streets

robbed of their darkness, it seemed like another world.  Thousands surged up and down the thoroughfares

aimlessly enjoying the novelty of the experience, and on the Market Square the Volunteers' Band conducted

by Councillor Jos. Rogers, played patriotic airs, the choruses of which were sung with tremendous fervour.

The music halls, theatre, and picture palaces were packed, the people seizing upon anything and everything

possible as an excuse for exuberance.  The absence of drunkenness in the streets was very conspicuous and

creditable.  Want of opportunity doubtless had something to do with this, as many licensed houses closed

before their time.  Next morning the town settled down to its ordinary life just as though we had not passed

through the greatest moment in our history, and there was nothing left to remind us of it save the beflagged

buildings and undiscarded favours of the passers by.

[Above] Celebrating on the Market Square.