He looked like such an insignificant man, with no special attributes, but beneath his beguiling simplicity was a forceful character and a formidable brain with prolific ideas which paved the way for dance bands in Britain. He was in every sense an original with the human touch.
He was very short tempered…but he was strangely patient, he was outstandingly generous, he had a wild sense of humour, he was quick to rise to temper and quick to fall away. If there was ridiculousness in his argument, he would see it. He basically wanted to enjoy himself, I think. I’ve never seen anybody who wanted to enjoy themselves as much and I’ve certainly never seen anybody who succeeded to quite such a degree.
Professional
As the evidence has shown, there has been relatively little written on Hylton at any time, either during his life or since his death, except in the weekly music press, while he was working as a dance band leader. Even less has been written about his personal life. A few things are hinted at, but there is very little to allow a personal picture to be built of a man about whose music so much is known.
However, in radio programmes and in occasional articles, writers and interviewees have expressed an opinion and these need to be highlighted. Maureen Owen’s The Crazy Gang – A Personal Reminiscence, which shall be discussed in due course, shows a little more depth than most other sources. There are also the personal reminiscences from Hylton’s son, John, his daughter Jackie and his second wife Beverley Prowse (now Lady McKay). Their interviews alone build a vivid picture of a man who loved life and lived it to the full at all times, but who equally loved his family and friends and would seemingly go to extraordinary lengths to avoid them suffering in any way.
Many obituaries in the days following Hylton’s death in January 1965 mentioned text seemingly derived from both Julian Vedey’s book Band Leaders and Chris Hayes’ Leader Of The Band Vol. II, both of which are quoted here, to provide the general impression which was given to the public.
Of all the great ones on this earth Hylton, perhaps is the most unchanged. He is short, thick set, his hair whitening noticeably now. He talks with the same Bolton accent, which he has never tried to disguise. His voice is the same, soft, husky drawl. None of the attributes permissible to great showmen are noticeable in the Hylton make-up. No pompous strutting or braggadocio. He is quiet, dignified, serene and at all times imperturbable. Never, at any time, is he too busy or too important to spare a few moments conversation.
He could manage with the minimum of sleep and expected everyone to work 18 hours a day seven days a week, as he did! His vision as an impresario was as sharp and productive as it had been as a bandleader and he went on working actively until the end of his life.
Dapper, silver-haired and cherubic, he spoke so softly that you could hardly hear what he was saying. He revelled in his hectic existence with fast cars and private planes. He played a mild form of golf, smoked outsize cigars and enjoyed his drink. Towards the end of his life he slowed up quite a lot and developed a progressive stoop, but he retained his elephantine memory. He took to wearing rimless glasses.
He once toyed with the idea of standing for Parliament. He was proud of his Legion of Honour award and always wore it when he went overseas.
While one has to appreciate the inevitable sycophantic approach many journalists could have had towards Hylton, given his status, both while alive and after his death, the sheer regularity of this kind of description suggests that he genuinely was this kind of man – a workaholic, who surrounded himself with the kind of people who he thought could work as hard as he could. He was also clearly someone who enjoyed his play (he was a keen racing fan, and owned several racehorses) and someone who was still in touch with his roots, with no problem about his working-class background.
In work, Hylton was highly motivated and calculating. He wanted to give the public exactly what they wanted, not what the critics thought would work, or what would gain him credibility artistically. This is perhaps why most of Hylton’s music has not remained as popular as some music from this period. He played and recorded the ‘pop music’ of the 1920’s and 1930’s and consequently, reaped the rewards of his success, but longevity evaded him. However, none of the evidence seen so far would suggest that he ever craved it – only successes of the highest order. An article published in Rhythm Magazine in December 1938 spoke of his working techniques during a performance. The article is worth reproducing in its entirety here.
What impression do you form when you see Hylton on the job? He’s a very different fellow back-stage, say when he’s just finished a show. Then, first thing he invariably does back in the dressing room is to chat with his second-in-command, Bill Ternent, about the way the public has just reacted. ‘Think we’ll put the waltz back, next house – and we’ll take out so-and-so and put in so-and-so in its place. It’ll go better there.’
Always scheming, that’s Hylton. Never blaming the audience for lack of response. Seeks a reason for anything wrong and puts it right. Talks so quietly that you have a hard job to follow him. Darts off at conversational tangents. Suddenly breaks into a song in a most disconcerting manner, or absent-mindedly puts on the gramophone in the middle of what you’re saying.
Seems never to be listening, but damn it, has the most embarrassing habit of remembering every word, and confounding you with something you may have said in the past and which is not consistent with what you’re saying now.
Capable of great burst of generosity, but does not readily forgive a bad turn. Always has a motive for everything he does, works like a horse and is faintly surprised if anybody else can’t keep up with his tempo. Knows everything that’s going on in the profession of popular music. You’d think he maintained a highly paid espionage service.
Fiery temper. Once saw him kick the outboard motor of his rowing boat with such force that he hurt his foot, but immediately recovered, laughing as he realised how funny it was.
Can keep his temper, though, when he’s most provoked, and when he goes a bit pale under the strain of it, then he is at his most menacing.
A little sleepy and offhand, outwardly, but a volcano of latent energy within, frequently erupting with seismic effect. Above all, entirely free from snobbery and affectation.
Lady McKay, who remembers visiting a show early in her relationship with Hylton, confirms this constant level of fine-tuning.
The first show he took me to, before we were married, he said in the interval, ‘Can you remember any of the numbers?’ I said ‘Yes, yes’, you know, I was very keen… I said the main one and I sang that to him without any trouble… and he sat down at the piano and played eight of the numbers. He played them all… Then he pointed out lighting things, did I notice anything about the entrances or something and he was always looking at all different things about the theatre…
In a sense, it is obvious that someone who enjoyed such a level of success for so many years, must be highly motivated, and this can be seen in the above extracts, but it is more rewarding to see a fully rounded character, liked by many.
This workaholic attitude continued into Hylton’s work in television with the Associated-Rediffusion Company in the 1950’s. Theatrically he was still a great success, but was some way from achieving that on TV. However, in typical Hylton style, when he realised that television did not give him the same rewards as previous projects, he again began to concentrate on theatre production and continued his excellent work in that field.
Reminiscences
Several former employees of Hylton have appeared in interviews for radio programmes, or magazine articles since Hylton’s death and they provide a rare insight into working with him. They may appear to be somewhat obsequious, but still provide us with a valuable source of information. Spike Hughes, journalist and double bass player with Hylton from 1931-2, spoke to Alasdair Fenton.
I took to Jack Hylton personally very quickly, once I had overcome my initial embarrassment on finding myself in his company at all. I liked his peculiar unostentatious generosity, his sly sense of humour, and his willingness to try anything once. I admired too, the contempt he showed for most of his own activities as a musician, his alarming perception of any second rate or lazy playing by his band, and his prodigious vitality, which enabled him to talk business sense long after the rest of us were under the table and long before we were conscious the next morning.
One of the less idealistic comments comes from another bass player Andre De Vekey, with initial comment from journalist Chris Hayes.
As a journalist, I found Jack Hylton brusque and testy, but this was not characteristic according to Andre de Vekey, who played bass for him from 1933 to 1938. Andre…told me: ‘He was a strict disciplinarian, a hard taskmaster, a straight talker and a tough businessman, who liked to have his own way, but he had a kind streak and often helped his musicians when they were in trouble. He was a good bandleader, who generated a lot of charisma and loyalty. Musicians liked him and enjoyed being with the band, although some resented his all-in contracts which meant one salary for everything we did. He worked hard himself and expected everyone else to do likewise. He was a grim perfectionist and our rehearsals could be interminable.’
The above quote mentions several of the points already raised, but also appears to be a little more realistic, showing that the work was hard and Hylton’s constant striving for success was not necessarily a good thing when one was living day to day in the band.
Private
As mentioned in the opening paragraphs, Maureen Owen’s book is the only published example found so far which gives any detailed evidence of the way Hylton conducted his private life. He married Ennis Parkes (with whom he worked during his time with the Pierrot Troupe seaside shows) in 1922 . The marriage was very short-lived (possibly faltering after just a few months) but a contested divorce was difficult to obtain in the 1920’s and the two remained married, despite their separation. Ennis was seen to be very bitter but due to her own position as bandleader appeared to have significant financial and legal matters outstanding to stop Jack divorcing easily. She was running her band, Mrs Jack Hylton and Her Boys many years after their reported break-up. Ennis died in 1957.
In 1930, during a European tour, the band had an engagement in Vienna and it was here that Jack first met Frederika Kogler (known simply as Fifi). Fifi, who was born in 1906, worked as a model, was also involved in dressmaking and was, herself, a beautifully dressed woman at all times. Their close relationship lasted until the late 1940’s and they stayed close friends until Jack died. Fifi died of cancer in June 1972. Together they had two daughters, Jacqueline Frederika (known as Jackie, born in 1932) and Georgina (known as Georgie, born in 1938). Jackie went on to marry Irish champion jockey Liam Ward in 1962, with whom she had William (born 1953) and Nicola (born 1956); they were divorced in 1977.Georgina, at the time of writing, is unmarried and living in London. Jacqueline began her life long interest in horses, through her father’s keen interest.
After an early rebellion against anything to do with the theatre, her main preoccupation was with horses. Right from the start her interest was professional and she soon outgrew the local riding stables, where in 1940 we would spend many a happy day. Becoming a racehorse owner at an early age, she graduated to a racing stables at Ferring where she worked as one of the lads. By the age of about eleven she had made a complete life for herself in the racing world…
Partly because of this interest, Jackie managed to spend a great deal of time with her father, when she was younger. By around 1946, when Jack was buying a number of horses from France, Jackie was appointed to look after them, running all aspects of her father’s horses’ needs. During breaks in rehearsals for shows, members of the band would attend the local racecourse, for betting and Jackie was always on hand to advise them on the likely winners, at the same time as placing the bets on behalf of ‘father’. By 1958, she had bought her own stud farm.
During her first eight years, Jackie witnessed the prime of Jack Hylton and His Orchestra and has memories of tours and meeting such luminaries of the entertainment world as Duke Ellington and his son Mercer, with whom she stayed in touch for many years. Jackie now lives in Kentucky, USA, where she runs a stud farm with her second husband, Frank Ramos, who she married in 1982.
The relationship between Jack and Fifi was a stormy one, as Jack made no secret of his many other affairs. Despite this, Fifi was a very loyal person, very strong willed and simply worked through the problems; she realised that despite the father of her children having affairs, she meant more to him than they did.
She was a wonderful person; she didn’t have an enemy in the world. She worked through it – all the others were just ‘fly by night’… there were dramas, but nothing that bad – that’s just the way it was.
When her romance with Jack Hylton began, Fifi Kogler moved to London and took the Hylton name. She moved into 36 Cumberland Mansions (off Edgware Road in London), in the early 1930’s. Both she and Jackie went with Jack to America during his time there and Jackie remembers pictures being taken on her fourth birthday, in the Drake Hotel in Chicago where they stayed. When they returned, Fifi was given the Villa Daheim, Kingston Gorse, in the village of Angmering (see Figure 5), on the south coast of England and also lived in a house in Gilbert Street, London. At the same time, Hylton was openly having affairs with actresses and singers in London. Maureen Owen also lived in Angmering and was a close childhood friend of Jackie Hylton, hence her reminiscences. The following quote is told by Owen, who talks of a visit to the Hylton household, with Fifi answering the telephone.
One day I arrived as the phone was ringing. She answered, saying, ‘Mrs Hylton here’, and then went white to the lips. Unaware of the complex Hylton relationships at the time, I was surprised when Jackie abruptly removed us both from the room. I later learned that the caller at the other end had said, ‘There’s only one Mrs Jack Hylton, and that’s who’s speaking.’
Fifi, Jackie and Georgie stayed in Angmering until after the war, when Hylton bought them a house eight miles outside Oxford. It was here that Hylton also had two scenery stores, which were used as holds for props and scenery after shows had closed.
When Jack and Fifi separated, Jack began another long-term relationship with singer and actress Pat Taylor. Fifi and her children felt some degree of animosity towards Taylor, who was seen as the catalyst for the break up of the relationship. Animosity was also shown towards the son of Taylor and Hylton, John (born 1947). John is now married to his second wife Joyce and has two children, Catrina Lee (born 1968, from his first marriage) and Ianthe (born 1985). The relationship with Pat Taylor lasted until around 1952. Around the same time, Hylton had an affair with singer Elsie Carlisle; she bore a son, Willie, who was said to have been Hylton’s, but these rumours were never confirmed and it seems likely that the child was not from Hylton.
Another of Hylton’s long term relationships and a much-publicised one, was with singer Rosalina Neri, in the late 1950’s. The relationship was much publicised through Hylton himself, who promoted Neri’s career through his television shows, which caused as much embarrassment for the viewing public as it did for Associated-Rediffusion.
She was pretty dreadful, I would say…I remember thinking to myself that my father had lost his mind! But he didn’t think so and to be honest, I think it was the only time he made a fool of himself.
I thought that Rosalina Neri, the blond Italian, was going to collapse last night from exhaustion in her efforts to be sexy in ITV’s Christmas Greetings show. She pouted, wriggled and ogled so much that she seemed like a combination of Sabrina, the young Marlene Dietrich and Marilyn Monroe – but grown to nightmare proportions. Please Miss Neri, more restraint – or you’ll have us laughing.
John Hylton suggests that Neri, perhaps more than anyone was looking to Jack for a career boost from their relationship. He also suggests that this was not usually the way his father approached relationships – there apparently was no pretext of a part in a show or a spot singing in the band.
The relationship between Hylton and Rosalina Neri was a volatile one and it was during a difficult period together that he first met Beverley Prowse. This was in 1956; Beverley was in England as part of her commitments as a Miss World entrant (she eventually came sixth) and was courting Keith Miller, the Australian Test cricketer. Hylton was a keen supporter and friend of the England Test team and met the Australians during their visit to contest the Ashes. On this occasion, Hylton invited Miller to his house in the south of France, on the assumption that he would bring Beverley along. This visit happened for several summers, after Beverley and Keith had separated. During another difficult time with Rosalina, Hylton began a relationship with Beverley.
On April 9th, 1963 Jack married Beverley in a secret ceremony in Geneva. Many sources suggest that the entertainment world was shocked at the news of their marriage, but it is clear from Beverley’s reminiscences that this is not the case and it appears that the marriage was a loving one, without the hidden agenda which Neri and others had. John Hylton, however, knew his father’s past very well.
I was called from Geneva and he said, ‘I’ve got married’ and I said, ‘That’s nice, is it anybody I know!’ Because I didn’t know who he’d gone away with.
Beverley Prowse (now known as Lady McKay, having married Sir Alec McKay in 1972) remembers her years with Hylton very well.
…I was always ready to go to the theatre at the drop of a hat and to lunch, or he’d come home for lunch if he had time…We saw a lot of each other, especially in those few years [of marriage]. He was very happy and so was I…
We were very close. I never thought of him as being as old as he was. He was much younger than me in a lot of ways.
The couple stayed married until Hylton’s death on January 29th, 1965, at the age of 72.
One aspect of Hylton’s life that is rarely spoken of is his generosity. There are many instances of him giving money to employees for holidays, for private medical care, or to alleviate some financial problems. On one particular occasion, in 1959, Hylton bought the house of a friend, Louis Khronberg, who was facing bankruptcy and allowed him to live in it rent free, for an indefinite period. When the man finally went to court regarding the bankruptcy, Hylton was called to the stand, on the grounds that the £21,000 paid by Hylton was an inadequate price and therefore he was looking to make money on the venture. Hylton told the judge that he sought no financial reward for the purchase.
‘Are you suggesting that you expended £4,000 in order to gratify the wishes of an old friend, and for no other reason at all?’
‘Yes.’
‘What sort of person are you Mr Hylton?’
‘I can tell you, Mr Finer, we are human beings, but you wouldn’t know much about us.’
The case was immediately dismissed and John Hylton suggests that this was just one of many examples of his boundless generosity. Bud Flanagan, who worked with Jack as part of the Crazy Gang recalls another occasion.
In 1935 when things were not too good for Billy Ternent, Jack picked up the bill for a Harley Street nursing home. But typically he insisted on getting his money’s worth. Jack had him working out the orchestration and band scores even while he convalesced.
In much the same way he lavished money on others, Jack Hylton also spent equally on himself.
Jack Hylton was the last of the big spenders. He was unashamedly out to make money and just as unashamedly out to spend it. “I was born poor”, he once told me. “And now I have it, I’m going to enjoy it.”…He was big, obstreperous, colourful, noisy, loveable, lavish. We all miss him. We shall never see his like again.
Jack Hylton led a full and prosperous life, especially with the many women whom he courted during his life. Hylton’s daughter Jackie suggests that, although he acted in the way he did, he never meant any malice towards any of his partners. He looked after them all, all of the time and nobody was harmed in any great way by it – he was very generous and very straightforward in his life. Many of the women who he came across appreciated these facts but were still keen to indulge in a relationship.
For a lot of his life, he was one of the most recognisable faces in the British entertainment industry, yet journalists and writers of the last fifty years have overall, left his personal life alone. John Hylton recalls an occasion when Val Parnell said to him, ‘Your old man got lionised for what the rest of us got crucified for.’ Certainly, Hylton led a busy private life, but much of this remained unreported. He was, however, friendly with most of the editors of the daily newspapers and was always willing to speak to the press when they found him. He gave a great deal, but also received a great deal with almost everyone who crossed his path during his seventy-two years. To conclude, a piece of Hylton folklore, as told by his son.
In the old offices, in 125 Pall Mall, there was a neon sign which read, ‘Jack Hylton Presents’, it was a London landmark for years. It used to get taken out of the office window and hung outside the theatre for the first night of every production, then taken back and hung back in the office. It was the sign that purportedly, on the night he died, went out, outside the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane…It came back on for the matinee performance on the day he was buried. Because of that happening…the following night, every London theatre switched off its front of house lights as a mark of respect.