MANY claim this general election campaign has been a boring low-key affair and has failed to spark much enthusiasm.

This is despite widespread media coverage with hundreds of column inches written in newspapers and hours of debate on TV.

But perhaps that's the reason why.

Sadly, today much of the colour once attached to such events is literally missing from modern elections. People nowadays appear either shy or apprehensive about displaying posters in their windows or gardens.

Fifty years ago Tory blue dominated the posh parts of the district, while a forest of Labour's red and yellow posters flourished on most of the town's council estates.

This too was the golden age of the public meeting. It was not unusual for a candidate to attend 50 or so in villages and hamlets throughout the constituency in the run up to polling day.

The details, together with a photo of the candidate and appropriate blurb, were given large quarter page adverts in The Messenger.

"What about the workers?" was a familiar cry as a candidate, perched on a soapbox, tried desperately to get his point across to a noisy crowd who appeared to relish being there simply for the entertainment value.

Older readers may recall three prime ministers holding forth on Crown Close - Clement Atlee, Anthony Eden and "Supermac" Harold Macmillan.

These visits were not 'sanitised' by officialdom and Mac especially was happy to shake hands and sign schoolchildren's autograph books.

Gone too are the loudspeaker vans which once trailed endlessly round the district uttering tinny incoherent messages from within.

Election day itself saw party workers, keen to convey non-car owning voters of the same persuasion, to the polls.

One, a woman, confided that she had at times, when a result looked close, agreed to "keep an eye" on the kids while mum and dad walked to the polling station.

But, back in April 1880 at the East Worcestershire election, no-one could then accuse Bromsgrovians of being apathetic.

The Liberals, who counted most of the town's nailers among their supporters, held a rally in Bromsgrove on the Saturday prior to polling day.

The carriage in which Mr William Gladstone, one of two Liberal candidates and his huge entourage - which included 'Salt King' John Corbett travelled- was met in Worcester Street by a brass band and drum and fife band.

The horses were uncoupled from the first carriage to which ropes were attached and it was thus drawn by cheering supporters through the main streets to Pritchett's Field in Market Street, where some 4,000 people had gathered.

Polling took place on Monday at the National Schools in Crown Close, but elsewhere in Britain on different days.

Anticipating trouble 60 special constables had been sworn in and they were supplemented by 20 officers from Worcester.

They were deployed mostly in the town centre opposite the Tory HQ at the Golden Cross Hotel where an eyewitness noted the large crowd 'cheered and hooted as the humour suited them.'

By noon three quarters of the electorate had voted, and as the day wore on the mob began to 'indulge in horse-play' as its mood turned ugly. The police, in groups of a dozen, were 'beating about' in a bid to retain law and order.

The Blues (Liberals) were the prominent party and took to hunting out and chasing any unfortunate Reds (Conservatives) who had the temerity to show their colours on the streets.

Mr Prosser, the Conservative's chairman and other prominent party members, were especially singled out for attack.

The windows of his house were smashed and his face was cut by a flying stone as he faced the mob in New Road.

Various skirmishes erupted until about 9pm when it began to rain and the crowd dispersed and the streets became quieter.

The votes were counted at Droitwich Workhouse on Tuesday when it was revealed that of the 12,000 names on the voters' list only 1,358 failed to vote.

The result was an easy victory for the Liberals' Mr Gladstone and Mr George Hastings.

The result was announced at 2pm and wired through to The Messenger office in Bromsgrove at 2.06pm.

Having made efficient preparations, before 2.15pm, the paper was selling a hot-off-the press election special edition to townsfolk eager for news.

Given the technology available in 1880 that was no mean feat.