History of England 1-6

The song tells of an engine driver who successfully smuggles a stash of pig iron past a railway toll gate. A more American theme could scarcely be imagined, but that was the point. Not Bill Haley & His Comets, nor Elvis, nor even Buddy Holly so galvanized the British young. They were haloed at an almost unbridgeable remove from British realities. In any case, white rock ’n’ roll, or ‘rockabilly’, the music offered by Haley and Elvis, could be a curiously sedate affair; it was music for joyful or even elegant dancers. Perhaps, when the Teddy boys tore up the cinema seats, they were not so much fired by rock ’n’ roll as impatient with it. Skiffle might have been rudimentary, but it was never sedate.

Moreover, Donegan, short, thin, ostentatiously workingclass and British, was ‘one of us’ – if he could do it, so could everyone. And then there was the simple rush of the tune, and the wild, whooping triumph in its chorus. The skiffle craze was sparked. As has been many times remarked, ‘We owe it all to Lonnie Donegan.’ The principle was simple. If you wanted rhythm, you scraped a washboard; if a double bass, then you strung a washing line to a sweeping brush and rammed it into a tea chest. If you couldn’t afford a guitar, you could surely get a banjo. A comb-and-paper kazoo could serve for a harmonica, and puffing into a jug created a sound not unlike a tuba. In short, you could create such music on your own.

Skiffle itself might have died without issue. The sound was thin and scratchy, and the ease with which it could be played made it restrictive for serious talents. That it did not die is in some part due to a man nicknamed ‘Dr Death’, whose real name was Paul Lincoln. On 22 April 1956, he and Ray Hunter refounded a club in Old Compton Street as a coffee bar, ‘The 2i’, with a music venue downstairs. There was little or no seating. The tiny stage for the musicians was built from milk crates and planks. Even the microphone had been a relic of the Boer War. Performers were paid, so the legend ran, in coffee and Coca-Cola, and alcohol was not served. Skiffle could not have wished for a warmer cradle. It did not last long into the succeeding decade, and in this it was typical of the coffee bar boom. Espresso bars still flourished, but no longer as conduits of musical talent. They would never die, but they would have to adapt.

38

North and south

On 8 October 1959, the Conservatives under Macmillan won the election by 365 seats to Labour’s 258. The unofficial campaign slogan was ‘We’ve Never Had It So Good’. Macmillan had proved himself worthy – now he had only to make ‘it’ even better, whatever ‘it’ was. He had beguiled and persuaded the nation by virtue of his Edwardian charm, but he remained in certain respects a little-known figure.

‘A born rebel’ was how Lloyd George described the young Macmillan. The young of Sixties England might have found it hard to spot a rebel in their prime minister, but those living further afield would not have been surprised. By 1960, decolonization was already underway, but the process had been halting. Macmillan had always believed in the nascent strength of the smaller Commonwealth nations, and on 6 January he reaffirmed this in a speech in Ghana. The choice of location was deliberate: Ghana had won its freedom by peaceful means, its new leader following the example of Gandhi. This, coupled with the sobering examples of chaos and bloodshed in former French and Portuguese possessions, led the shrewd and compassionate Macmillan to conclude that empire could not coexist with African nationalism.

This speech passed largely unnoticed, but when he repeated its central points in the parliament of apartheid South Africa, the world took note. After thanking the relevant dignitaries, Macmillan proceeded: ‘At such a time it is natural and right that you should pause to take stock of your position – to look back at what you have achieved, and to look forward to what lies ahead.’ The tone was that of a kindly headmaster sending his boys off into the wider world, and was received as such. However, his next observation garnered him a good-natured laugh. ‘This afternoon I hope to see something of your wine-growing industry, which so far I have only admired as a consumer.’