Marie Lloyd, 1900 photo by Louis Saul Langfier [Langfier Ltd]

THE funeral of much-loved singer and comedienne Marie Lloyd, who died in October 1922 aged 52, was one of Camden’s biggest ever events with more than 50,000 people lining the streets for the two-mile procession to Hampstead cemetery.

And such was Marie’s extraordinary popularity that the following weekend, another estimated 120,000 fans made the pilgrimage to her grave.

Marie, born in Hoxton, is among a series of fascinating characters featured in an inspiring new book by Camden writer Alwyn Turner.

His highly praised A Shellshocked Nation: Britain Between the Wars goes beyond political history to stress the need for music and entertainment to help people forget the murderous events of war. The UK and Ireland lost nearly a million lives in the Great War.

This time last year Turner’s previous book, Little Englanders: Britain in the Edwardian Era, gave a clear appraisal of life in Britain’s music halls, where often members of the audience would shout at the performers.

In his new work Turner writes that Marie Lloyd had turned 50 in February 1920 but life had taken its toll. “For three decades she’d been the ‘Queen of the Music Halls’ maintaining her position with hundreds of performances.

“There were also extensive international tours and the assistance of alcohol – though not as much as any of her three husbands tended to drink.”

Alwyn Turner

Marie first made her name as a cheeky, flirtatious cockney girl who sang risqué songs like, What’s That For, Eh? and Among My Knick-Knacks.

Among her most famous songs was My Old Man (Said Follow the Van) and Oh, Mr Porter.

“In private, Marie was not well with serious heart and kidney conditions,” Turner writes, “and in the summer of 1921 her doctor gave her just three months to live. She took some time away from performing but returned in early 1922, only to break down in tears while on stage in Cardiff.”

Audiences knew by then that her final performance could be any time soon.

When she was buried, police at Hampstead cemetery had to close the gates because of the vast crowds. Turner writes that the newspapers tried to articulate what it was that made Lloyd so special. Among those full of praise was Bloomsbury-based American poet and writer TS Eliot. In the New York literary magazine, The Dial, he wrote: “It was, I think, this capacity for expressing the soul of the people that made Marie Lloyd unique and that made her audiences, even when they joined in the chorus, not so much hilarious as happy.”

Sir Harry Lauder (knighted for his charitable work during the First World War) wrote Keep Right On to the End of The Road in 1924 in memory of his beloved son, Captain John Lauder, who had been killed in December 1916.

Turner said: “The death of Lauder’s son John threw a completely new light on the song.” Scotsman Sir Harry stayed often at The Pennington Hotel, Bloomsbury.

Turner’s book includes many major events during and after both world wars but perhaps among some of the funniest characters was Queenie Day, who in 1937 lived at Carleton Road, Tufnell Park.

The road backed onto Holloway Prison, then the UK’s largest women’s prison.

Queenie had a friend in the prison, Elsie Carey, and found they were able to talk to each other from Elsie’s cell and Queenie’s own open window. That was until the prison authorities cottoned on and moved Elsie to a cell in a less communicable part of the prison.

The BBC also gets a nice mention in Turner’s book. In 1932, the BBC moved from its old home in Savoy Hill, close to Waterloo Bridge, to a newly contracted Broadcasting House, just up from Oxford Circus.

The first words to be transmitted came from the man who would become the country’s best-known band leader – “Hello everyone, this is Henry Hall speaking.” And then the band broke into It’s Just The Time For Dancing.

Turner, who lives near Camden Lock, enjoys walking in Regent’s Park, and is working on a new novel about life in post-war Britain in the 1950s, possibly to be named after the Johnny Kidd and the Pirates record, Shakin’ All Over.

• A Shellshocked Nation: Britain Between the Wars. By Alwyn Turner, Profile Books, £25