Though singer
Gracie Fields spent her final years living in Capri she's mainly associated
with her hometown of Rochdale. I went to have a wander
around to locate places linked to her. There's not much left to see. A strange
conversation with a prostitute ensued (see below.)
Gracie was born in the back bedroom of a fish and chip
shop owned by her grandparents. Within seven years she made her first appearance
on stage and aged 12 got paid professionally in a variety act that took place
at the Rochdale Hippodrome theatre. She spent half
her time at school and half at a cotton mill but soon gave up both to perform. Once
when she was touring she caught another performing couple in a passionate
clinch. Terrified of what may happen to her she ran upstairs and bolted herself
in a room. It affected her so profoundly she contracted St Vituse
Dance (Sydenhams Chorea - a nervous disposition where
limbs shake uncontrollably). She was sent to St Anne’s near Blackpool
to convalesce.
Success sprung early from meeting comedian and
impresario Archie Pitt. He started managing her career and set her on the
trajectory leading to being a star. Gracie was 25 when they got married in Clapham and started touring the country. She was a busy
lass, playing three shows a night in London's West End. Aged 33 she appeared in
her first film Sally in Our Alley
which was a major box office hit. The 1930's brought a decade of adulation, fame
and money. She went on to make several films in Britain and America. Though
paid a record fee of £200,000 for four films she thought making films was
boring compared with performing live.
The thirties were a whirlwind and for a while she was
the world’s highest paid film-star (per minute) to Mae West’s annoyance. Money
flooded in and she lived on The Bishops Avenue in London (millionaire’s row.)
Privately she was unhappy as her husband moved his mistress into the house and
Gracie lived in other rooms. Later the house brought back so many bad memories
that she gave it away free to be used as an orphanage. She never had children
and the nearest thing she had to it came when she was 35. She set up the Gracie
Fields Children's Home and Orphanage at Peacehaven in
Sussex (near her home.) She claimed the money she pumped into this orphanage
was the greatest investment of her life.
Though associated with Rochdale
she spent the latter part of her life in Capri and is buried there. She bought
a home there aged 35 after a life-changing moment. When she first visited Capri
with friends the horse and cart driver said he’d show her Marina Piccola and she was so moved by its beauty she felt she'd come
home. Her marriage broke down and aged
40 she married Italian-born film director Monty Banks. As Monty would have been
interned in a prison of war camp had they lived in Britain they moved to Santa
Monica in California. Gracie kept returning to the UK to performing in
factories and army camps around the country. Aged 41 as she Second World War
raged she became seriously ill with cervical cancer (the public sent her
250,000 cards.) She was told not to sing for two years but this plucky lass visited
the troops in France to entertain them, often singing while stood on the back
of trucks not far from the trenches.
Adulation reversed sharply. It looked like Italy was
going to enter the war and she was advised to return to America. She was
vilified for this and the press nailed her brutally as a traitor. She was told
if she performed on stage in the UK again cabbages would be thrown at her.
Winston Churchill told the Press this must stop. The government made an
official apology to her and this dogged lass returned (she could have easily
given up.) After World War Two she continued her career though less actively. A
day before her 52nd birthday she was traveling on the Orient Express
when her husband suddenly died of a heart attack.
The love of her life came rather late, she proposing
to him on a Christmas day in front of family and friends. Aged 54 she married
her last husband Boris Alperovici, a Romanian odd-job
man who came to fix her radio. By her mid-fifties she continued recording but
didn’t make any more films. In her mid-sixties she was touring the Australia,
Canada and America with farewell tours but she never forgot Rochdale.
She returned home every year to perform and gave up her performance rights for
a week. During World War II she had paid for all servicemen/women to travel
free on public transport within the boundaries of Rochdale.)
Aged 80 she opened the Gracie Fields Theatre in Rochdale and performed her tenth Royal Variety Performances.
Aged 81 she was awarded a Damehood. When asked if she
would accept it and go to Buckingham Palace she said, "Yes I'll accept, yes
I can kneel – but I might need help getting back up.” Seven months later though
she was dead. She performed an open-air concert on the Royal Yacht docked in
Capri's harbour, contracted pneumonia and never
recovered. For two months her health worsened and she died at home.
I drove around districts I'd never visited before. It
was a disappointing day though as there was little to see. The fish and chip
shop where she'd been born had long been demolished and it's now a garage.
There're a couple of plaques though. The only building remaining is the shop
where Gracie stayed when she was performing in Rochdale. I went down to the
statue of her outside Rochdale Town Hall. Is it a myth or true that Adolf
Hitler admired this building and when he'd overthrown Britain he wanted it
broken down and rebuilt in Berlin?
There was an odd
encounter. While strolling around the
streets I saw a woman appear from a side street in a skirt too high for the low
temperatures. After ten minutes I returned to the car which was parked outside
a fast-food outlet and poured coffee from the flask. There was a knock on the
passenger window. It was the woman I'd seen before. This was a rough area so I
only put the window a few inches.
“Hello, can
I talk to you a minute?" she asked.
"...er...what about?" I asked.
“I’ll
tell if I can get in. Can I get in?”
“No,
sorry I’m going now.”
“Where
are you going?”
“Back
home.”
"Where's that?"
"Not round here. I don't live around here."
“I could get in if you need company. Can I
get in?" she said.
“Er...no I’d better go now.” I could see her skin was ruddy under
the foundation. Oh no, a prostitute.
“Can I
get in?”
“No
sorry but I’m going now,” I said, pressing a button that locks the doors.
“I
haven’t had any breakfast today. Have you any spare change please?”
I keep a
plastic bag of loose change in the door. I fished out £2 and passed it through
the gap above the window. This only encouraged her.
“I’m
really hungry. Have you got some more please? Just a bit more.”
“I need
it myself,” I said.
“Can I
get in?” she pleaded obviously wanting to make some money for drugs.
“No,
I’ve got to go.”
“I saw a
five pound note in your bag. Could I have that?” She was right. The money bag
was see-through.
“I need
it myself.”
“If I
can get in I can help you. Can I get in?” Blimey, these prostitutes have nerves
of steel.
“No I’m
okay thanks. I'll stick with internet porn.”
“What?....oh....but
it's not real."
“What? I
was joking.”
“Could I
get in now?” These prostitutes are so proactive these days.
“I could
be a monk. I’m not interested in all that stuff. Everything’s rusted up.”
“Where
do you live?”
I lied
and pretended my wife was due back "any moment."
She didn't
once tried the door handle thankfully but she tried her negotiating skills.
“Are you
on your own for the rest of the day?"
"No, not really" I almost said. I was beginning to wonder if
she had a pimp scoping us out from a distance and may turn up and was getting
scared. She said she was very hungry and hadn't eaten today.
I gave
her another £1 and said to go and buy a muffin. Suddenly she produced a £10
note and asked if she could exchange it for a £20 note.
“You
said you had no money for food,” I said starting the engine.
“I need
to get money for my daughter. I really need to get £50. Can I get in and tell
you about it all?”
“I
haven’t got £50. Haven't you got a job?" Even dopey me had guessed she was
doing her job.
This idea
floated passed her face which was about thirty years old and no unattractive.
“Can I
give you this £10 for your £2o note? I've bills to pay."
“No,
I’ve given you something.”
“Can I
get in and I won’t be just taking the money?”
The
owner of a fast-food shop appeared from the front door. He was swarthy with a Freddie
Mercury moustache and had been watching her warily from his counter. He put his
hand on her elbow and she turned around as though she knew him. I almost
scuffed the side car on a concrete bin in haste to escape.
At the site
where Gracie was born – note the blue plaque on the redbrick wall (to right of
silver car)…
Now and then…
At the site of the Schofields off-licence. The Schofields
were friends of the family and Gracie lodged here when in Rochdale for
performances
Heading down to the town hall to the
statue. On the right is Gracie addressing a crowd from the town hall…
The last photo of Gracie taken two
days before she died…
Her home in Hampstead...
Her home in Capri...
In more recent times...