Delia - an Icon for Now

Written by Kit Hesketh-Harvey and performed by him with Richard Sissons at the piano (as Kit and the Widow), this dates back to a time when Delia Smith was the darling of BBC TV.

Many years later, I wrote to Kit about it and he was kind enough to send the lyric back to me in 2010. It was sung to the refrain of Vilja's Song from Lehar's The Merry Widow.

Delia, oh Delia, you're sweet and you're dear

But we've had your recipes right up to here.

Night after night, everywhere that we do

"This one's from Delia, you know!"

I cannot face one more sad soggy prawn

With salsas which then make me fart like Cape Horn.

That dull little voice that's so sad and so flat

And you don't say an-cho-vies like that!

Delia, you've started a new wave of crimes

As shoppers in Sainsbury's fight over limes.

Delia, your recipes may be well-read -

But I'll look up Fannie's* instead.

*A reference to Fanny Cradock, a TV cook of the previous generation.

Image: I am grateful to Damian Cugley for making his photo of Delia's Complete Cookery Course at a second-hand sale available to be used. I have cropped his original. It is used in accordance with his original Creative Commons licence.

The 1888 Handel Festival recordings at the Crystal Palace

The supposed centenary of Handel’s birth in 1785 and 25th anniversary of his death were the spur for London’s first Handel Commemoration. 

Subsequent festivals, many held in the Crystal Palace, took place regularly until 1926, ten years before the Palace itself was destroyed by fire. 

One of Thomas Edison's new Perfected Phonographs arrived in London during the three days of 1888 festival. Edison's agent Colonel George Gouraud lived close to the Crystal Palace and took the new machine along. 

As a result we can hear the 4,000 voice Handel choir and orchestra, conducted by Sir August Manns, performing on 29th June 1888. It is the world’s oldest surviving recording of a choir and orchestra.

The 1888 Handel Festival at the Crystal Palace

Martin Harvey as 'Sydney Carton' in "The Only Way"

Martin Harvey as Sydney Carton, by James Shannon

The Only Way, a play based on Dickens's A Tale of Two Cities by the Rev. Freeman Wills and Frederick Langbridge, was first produced at the Lyceum Theatre on Thursday 16 February 1899.

The leading male part of Sydney Carton ("It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known") was played by John Martin Harvey, a member of Sir Henry Irving's company. The part of the seamstress Mimi was played by his wife who used the stage name Miss N. da Silva, also a member of Irving's company.

The play, produced at Irving's Lyceum while it was vacant, was an overnight success, with the good-looking Martin Harvey becoming an instant heartthrob. The Manchester Evening News published that evening gives a flavour of the anticipation:

The unfortunate illness of Henry Irving, from which he has now quite recovered, has been productive of some interesting experiments on the part of members of his company. But none has excited more attention than that which being conducted by Mr. Martin Harvey, who tonight produces at the Lyceum Mr. Freeman Wills' new play, The Only Way, himself enacting the part of Sydney Carton. Surely Mr. Harvey is the youngest man who has ever had the boldness to take his hands even for few weeks so costly a theatre as the Lyceum. 

There are many who, entitled to speak with authority on matters theatrical, foresee for Mr. Harvey brilliant future, and safe to say that the main idea in the undertaking rather to secure for the actor a chance of exhibiting his abilities to the public in a leading part. We are not with those who complain that great talent often buried in the persons of minor actors of great companies, such as, for example, Sir Henry Irving's, but it is noteworthy that few people gave Mr. Harvey credit for his high talent until his recent success in Maeterlinck's  Pelleas and Melisande.

The same newspaper's review the following day suggests that the excitement was well-founded:

The anticipations formed in this column yesterday to Mr. Martin Harvey's bold experiment in securing the Lyceum for the production of The Only Way were realised the full. The house which assembled for this curious and interesting premiere designed to be critical was prepared to resent sheer assumption and brought every turn and phrase and gesture to the touchstone of the Lyceum tradition. 

Mr. Harvey accepted every challenge, and with irresistible courage marched on to a well-merited victory. Youth, skill, self-reliance justified his hopes, and the result was a welcome and unmistakable triumph...

...the supreme merit of the new actor-manager's triumph lay in this that his audience knew their Sydney Carton by heart already, although they may never have encountered him the stage. 

And Mr. Harvey's Carton proved to be theirs—Dickens's and Fred Barnard's—pathetic profligate swayed the noblest human virtues, who went guillotine in the place of a friend unflinchingly. The trial scene in the revolutionary tribunal was excellently done, and the success of the production was instantaneous.

Violet Manners, Duchess of Rutland, made many pencil sketches of Martin Harvey as Carton, and at least one of those was sold in lithographic reproductions.

In 1904, with his fame ever-increasing Martin Harvey sat for the artist James Jebusa Shannon as Carton, and the resulting portrait was exhibited at the Royal Academy in April.

It is unclear whether Harvey and Shannon knew each other. In 1889 Harvey studied at the Heatherley's School of Art but he was already a friend of George Frampton by then.

Shannon's portrait was received well, but with some reservations. The Era (30 April 1904) expressed the view that:

Mr J. J. Shannon has not quite caught Mr Martin Harvey's likeness in his picture of the actor as Sydney Carton; but the work, with its dash of tricolour and excellent handling, is very effective. 

The Illustrated London News (21 May 1904) hinted that Shannon's health might explain any lapses:

Mr. Shannon, who has had some passing trouble with his eyesight during the past year, manages to make a good appearance at Burlington House, as elsewhere. He has four canvases—two of them portraits of men. Mr. Martin Harvey as Sydney Carton is suitably sentimental almost the putting on of the fluent and responsive paint.

The World (3 May 1904) pulled fewer punches:

Mr. J. J. Shannon sends a portrait of Mr. Martin Harvey as ‘Sidney Carton’, the likeness is good, but the technique is most unsatisfactory and the colour muddy... Sir Ernest Waterlow's large landscape, A Showery Summer Day, is delightfully grey and restful in tone; and next to it hangs Mr. J. J. Shannon’s portrait, Sir William Emerson, which is far more carefully painted than the portrait of Mr, Martin Harvey. 

In his Autobiography (Martin-Harvey 1933) the by-then Sir John Martin-Harvey indicated that the by-then Sir James Shannon's portrait was in his ownership. It does not appear to have been amongst the collection of his possessions sold after the death of his grand-daughter Jacqueline Squirl in 1995.

It formed Lot 288 sold by Rosebery's in 2018. Its current whereabouts are unknown.

Reference

Martin-Harvey, Sir John, 1933 The Autobiography of Sir John Martin-Harvey (London: Sampson Low, Marston and Co. Ltd.)