Department of English

Papers:

JOHN BALLAM University of Bristol/Open University
Henry Irving and John Oxenford
As The Times’ drama critic for nearly forty years, John Oxenford (1812-1877) was one of the most visible writers on the theatre in the entire Victorian period. It is notable that Oxenford was an early and enthusiastic supporter of Irving’s performances, describing Irving as ‘the most intellectual actor I have seen’. Importantly, his appreciation for Irving’s style was expressed in a fashion that, on the one hand, situated Irving among the best-known names on the English stage, while simultaneously stressing the actor’s originality. Oxenford himself was the author of more than one hundred plays, and given his prominence at this time, the importance of his reception of Irving’s vitality and inventiveness as Mathias (in The Bells), Hamlet, Macbeth and other roles, cannot be overstated.

MICHAEL R. BOOTH formerly of the University of Warwick/University of Victoria
Henry Irving: Actor
This paper begins with, after a brief introduction, a consideration of Irving’s acting when he first settled on the London stage in the late 1860s and the 1870s: his facial expression, his eyes, his walk, his posture. When he appeared in Shakespearean parts at the Lyceum under the Bateman management, he was subjected to a barrage of unfavourable criticism. A discussion of this criticism will show what kind of actor Irving was at that time, how his unconventional emphasis on the psychological presentation of character offended critics used to an older, more traditional style of acting, and how he actually used his weaknesses of voice, posture, and gait to advantage. Gradually Irving overcame many of his physical limitations and employed others as character traits.

Under his own Lyceum management from 1878, Irving transformed the theatre into a temple of respectability with a powerfully attractive social image, which not only comforted large and reverential audiences, but also elevated Irving’s own image with the public and within the profession. This image he incorporated into his own acting, notably in parts of unadulterated goodness such as Charles I, Dr. Primrose, Don Quixote, and Becket. Noble and sympathetic clerics were an Irving speciality, and these he played with benevolent strength and great dignity.

More to his liking, however, and arising, surely, out of his innermost being, were the grim, raffish, and even demonic portrayals that distinguished much of his acting, in parts such as Richard III, Iago, Louis XI, and Mephistopheles. The devil and the saint coexisted in his Shylock and Mathias in The Bells. Irving could play sanctity and horror with equal facility, and the paper will examine this phenomenon, as well as the undoubted hypnotic power Irving exercised over his audiences, performing as he did in an age when “mesmerism” and “magnetism” were taken up by scientist, practitioner, and showman alike.
Irving was also a haunted actor, ideally suited in character and temperament to playing characters driven by fear and remorse and haunted by their impending fate, like Louis XI, Macbeth, Mathias, and Vanderdecken. Above all, Irving was (though indulging in old-fashioned pictorialism) a strongly intellectual actor, a student and actor of the mind. This intellectualism did not extend, however, to the performance of the contemporary, intellectual modern drama of domestic and psychological realism. Irving was not interested in playing Ibsen or Shaw, and the paper will deal with this question. Nevertheless, he was an actor of great range and versatility, and whatever the merits and demerits of Irving as an actor and the Lyceum as a theatre, a hundred years after his death Irving still casts a long and mysterious shadow over the English stage.

KARIN BROWN Shakespeare Birthplace Trust, Stratford upon Avon
” This man belongs to me” – The Gothic World of Bram Stoker and Henry Irving
Bram Stoker was the stage manager of the Lyceum theatre for over twenty years. His infatuation with Henry Irving began when he first saw him perform Captain Absolute in The Rivals, and led him from a stable civil service job in Dublin to the heart of London’s theatre world. This lecture will examine how Stoker’s relationship with Irving directly informs his fiction. The main focus of the lecture will be on Dracula, often cited as Stoker’s most autobiographical work, but will also pay attention to his lesser-known novels. Showing the influence of Irving’s groundbreaking productions at the Lyceum, and in particular Shakespeare, the lecture will explore the dramatic cadences visible in Stoker’s writing. His friendship with Irving, and the Victorian fascination with the macabre and supernatural will also throw light on elements of Stoker’s imagination and the Gothic tradition.

JEAN CHOTHIA Selwyn College, Cambridge
Irving, Robespierre and the staging of the revolutionary crowd
In 1898/9 a spate of late nineteenth century plays presented the French Revolution on the English stage in terms of heroic aristocrats and brave self denials:  famously, Freeman Wills, The Only Way, adapted from A Tale of Two Cities, but also the anonymous Charlotte Corday at the Adelphi and Sardou's Robespierre, written for Irving and translated by Laurence Irving.  The plot of Sardou's play is trivial but I suggest that Irving's staging of the Convention scene was not.  It was much commented on in the press and was a major reason for the production's success on its American tour, in 1900.  I discuss Irving's staging of the revolutionary crowd and his management of the visual image including the role in it of Jean Louis David's picture, 'The Tennis Court Oath'.  I argue for relationship between these scenes and certain developments of the European avant garde theatre that were influential on but, in their turn, had been influenced by Irving's practice.

STEPHEN COCKETT Exeter University
Serenade in a Gondola: Music and Interpolated Action in Irving's The Merchant of Venice
Hamilton Clarke's musical score for Irving's 'Merchant' in 1879 offers, as would be expected in its time, an overture, entr'acte pieces and settings for songs in the text.  It also provides musical accompaniment for the interpolated scene in which Lorenzo and Jessica elope and Shylock returns unsuspecting to his empty house - a scene that, according to some critics, improved on Shakespeare.  This paper will explore Irving's interpolation using a realisation of the musical score, recorded on CD through a computer programme using sampled orchestral instruments.  The aim will be to 'see' through hearing: to reconstruct the scene by playing the music and to show how music and stage action interact to achieve theatrical effect.  This will lead to an examination of how Irving employed orchestral accompaniment as a strategy to achieve his staging intentions, and, in this instance, to underscore his interpretation of the character of Shylock.

KATHARINE COCKIN University of Hull
Ellen Terry and Henry Irving
In Henry Irving: The Actor and his World (1951), Laurence Irving described the relationship between Henry Irving and Ellen Terry in familial terms.  They were at once each other's parent and child (Irving 1989: 480).  This paper will examine the complexity of the Irving-Terry partnership, on and off the stage, considering how Irving functioned in the Shaw-Terry correspondence and the possible influences of Irving on the work of Ellen Terry's daughter, Edith Craig.  Reference will be made to unpublished sources in the Ellen Terry archives at the National Trust’s Smallhythe Place, including letters of condolence sent to Ellen Terry on Irving’s death and the collection of Shakespeare texts bought (presumably by Terry) from the sale of Irving’s effects after his death.

LEONARD WILLIAM CONOLLY Trent University
The Matter with Irving: GBS and Irving Reconsidered
Shaw’s views on Irving – like his views on many other things – were contentious. Considerable dismay and distress was caused among Irving’s friends and devotees by Shaw’s article on Irving in the Neue Freie Presse (Vienna) on 20 October 1905. Shaw blamed a poor translation from the German for causing a misunderstanding of his views, and quickly authorised publication of his original English version. That did not end the controversy, despite Shaw’s public acknowledgement (in The Times) of “the extraordinary success” of the “very curious, rare, and distinguished person” that he believed Irving to be. By then, however, public perceptions of Shaw’s view of Irving had been perhaps immutably shaped by the lengthy Irving-Shaw disputes in 1896-97 over performance rights for The Man of Destiny. The relationship between these two great men of the theatre is more complex than the “old-fashioned actor-manager” versus the “radical playwright of the new theatre” conflict it is often supposed to be. It is the purpose of this paper to offer a fresh, perhaps more balanced, assessment of the Shaw-Irving relationship than the one usually presented.

JAMES DAVIS University of Warwick
"He danced, he did not merely walk - he sang, he by no means merely spoke": 
Irving, Modernity and Twentieth Century Acting
One of the most dynamic studies of Henry Irving is that by Edward Gordon Craig, from whose book the quotation in the title of this paper is taken.  Craig's prose both animates and seems to be animated by Irving the actor.  Whereas influential critics such as G.B. Shaw and William Archer had dismissed and even ridiculed Irving's significance as an actor, Craig provides an alternative critical framework within which to assess Irving's achievements.  Craig is pre-occupied neither with Irving's relevance to the 'New Drama' of the period nor with his role as upholder of old traditions.  Instead, Craig places Irving among those practitioners and theorists - Stanislavski, Piscator, Meyerhold, Copeau, among others - who influenced and helped to create the new theatre in Europe in the twentieth century.  Interestingly, Craig's own theories also loom large across twentieth century western theatre and his continuing influence and importance has been acknowledged by directors such as Peter Brook and Peter Hall.  The purpose of this paper is to examine Irving not as a Victorian actor, nor as the bête noire of Archer and Shaw, but as an actor who embodies and points us towards many aspects of twentieth century acting practice.  Irving is arguably a prototype for the highly disciplined, physically expressive sort of actor that Craig, Meyerhold and other theorists envisaged and hoped to create in the early twentieth century.  This paper offers a re-appraisal of Irving as an actor of transitional importance, who, when mediated through Craig's memoir and his acknowledged impact on Craig's thinking, is as much implicated in the new order of theatre as in tradition and the past.

KENNETH DELONG The University of Calgary
Arthur Sullivan's Incidental Music to Henry Irving's Production of Shakespeare's Macbeth: The Lyceum Theatre 1888
This paper treats the topic of incidental music to plays in the Victorian theatre, focussing upon Henry Irving's 1888 production of Macbeth.  The incidental music for this production was composed by Sir Arthur Sullivan and runs to over 200 pages of orchestral score.  Aside from Sullivan's earlier incidental music to The Tempest (1862), this is the most extended incidental music for a play that Sullivan wrote.  The music consists of an extended overture and four entr'actes, brief music for stage business, as well as an extended item of music for the interpolated scene with the witches in Act 4 of Irving's performing version of the play.

This paper examines the working relationship of Irving and Sullivan on this production, the response of the contemporary press to the music, and its relationship to the production.  The paper also offers a dramatic/musical analysis of the main elements of the musical score and its relationship to Irving's and Sullivan's concept of the play.  The paper includes recorded excerpts from the score, including a performance of the vocal music for the witches scene transcribed for voices and piano by the author from the orchestral score.  Sullivan's music is shown to provide a quasi-Wagnerian commentary on the central dramatic elements of the play, combining the "picturesque" with a leitmotivic conception of the role of the incidental music.

MICHAEL EARLEY University of Lincoln
Edward Gordon Craig
I am currently writing a book on Craig. I want to explore his debt to Irving and also to investigate at length the character of their relationship. The Henry Irving Conference provides an ideal forum in which to do this. The son of Ellen Terry (Irving’s lead actress) and the architect and designer Edward Godwin, Edward Gordon Craig nonetheless thought of Henry Irving as a kind of surrogate father. From an early age he was in Irving productions and pursued an acting career under Irving’s influence and approval. It was from Irving that Craig’s notions of theatre began to evolve. But how could such radical notions of theatre have evolved from Irving’s productions and views about acting? My research shows that this crucial relationship in Craig’s early life has not been thoroughly enough investigated. Yet from this relationship (and even in the book that Craig wrote about Irving) we can find sources for many of Craig’s lifelong beliefs about a new theatre. Even up to his death in 1966, Craig proclaimed that Irving was a principal source of inspiration and influence. The details of this inspiration and influence are what I will explore in my contribution.

GEOFF HALES ‘Travelling Theatre’
The Bells
One-man show.

LISA HOPKINS Sheffield Hallam University
Irving, Shakespeare and the Novels of Bram Stoker
This paper will explore the impact of Bram Stoker’s long association with the theatre, and particularly his regular exposure to the Shakespearean performances of Irving, on his fiction, paying attention not only to Dracula but to his other, lesser-known novels. It will argue that, for Stoker, Irving’s interpretations of Shakespeare provided not only a fertile source of allusion and inspiration but also a potent counter-discourse to oppose to the ideas of change and instability in human nature which had been suggested by Darwinian theory. In Stoker’s fiction, Irving’s Shakespearean repertoire becomes a reassuring touchstone of humanity.

FRANCES HUGHES, Chairman of the Irving Society, and
HELEN SMITH, formerly of the Theatre Museum
Centre Stage: Henry Irving’s Correspondence
An account of the project sponsored by the Henry Irving Foundation to catalogue Irving’s correspondence – the greater part (some estimated 4,000 items) from Laurence Irving’s archive at the Theatre Museum in London. A discussion of principal categories and major correspondents, revealing new facts about Irving’s friendships, productions, his preoccupation with the status of the theatre, and social life; themes not necessarily covered by his biographers.

Letters reveal the extent of his generosity and interesting relationships with many contemporary artists.

DOUG KIRSHEN Brandeis University
Embodiment of the King: Henry Irving’s King Arthur
Sir Henry Irving’s 1895 production of King Arthur, a blank-verse play by J. Comyns Carr, convened an extraordinary constellation of talent. Irving directed and starred as the king opposite Ellen Terry as Guinevere and Johnston Forbes-Robertson as Lancelot; Sir Edward Burne-Jones designed the play’s elaborate scenery and costumes; and Sir Arthur Sullivan composed an evocative orchestral soundscape. This lavish staging of Carr’s unabashedly jingoistic script, which posited Arthur as a British Aeneas, was an immediate success. The critics acclaimed the play’s ardent nationalism and Tennysonian morality as “beautiful nobility of sentiment”, although The Times reviewer also noted “touches [of] the modern French drama of conjugal infidelity” in the love triangle of the three principals. The only unequivocal detractor was George Bernard Shaw, who dubbed Irving’s cadre of Victorian knights, the “amateur King Arthurs” of the Lyceum Theatre. Shaw had a point: King Arthur was the epitome of boyhood fantasy – a pageant that flattered the chivalrous self-image of the English Gentleman and the benevolent self-image of the British Empire.

This paper argues that Irving’s stage treatment of King Arthur, a highly developed expression of Victorian ideology, was attainable only after a long gestation of Arthurania in other media. By the 1890s, chivalric themes had been popular in British arts and letters for decades, yet Carr’s play was the first major English drama about Arthur to reach the London stage in over three hundred years. Chivalric material had to be processed through poetry, painting, and related arts before the legendary king could be fully embodied in the Victorian theatre. The visuals were particularly crucial; it is telling that Carr, the friend Irving recruited to pen the script, was not a playwright but an art critic and curator. Carr knew his Malory and Tennyson (Shaw called him an “encyclopædic gentleman”) but he also knew the pertinent visual archive; he scripted each act around one or more breathtaking stage image – to be realized by Burne-Jones and the Lyceum artisans – that audiences would instantly recognize.
In many respects, King Arthur anticipates Hollywood film production, the most influential cultural economy of the twentieth century, as described by Frederic Jameson and other theorists of postmodernity. Like Steven Spielberg or James Cameron, Irving was a director of spectacular entertainment whose cultural imperative was commercial viability. High-art pretensions notwithstanding, King Arthur was built on a popular simulacrum: the Victorian nostalgia for an idealized medievalism with no stable historical referent. The Lyceum stars also brought a film-like aura of celebrity to their roles; in a strange yet familiar alchemy, the recognizable presences of Irving, Terry, and Forbes-Robertson made it possible for King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot to be real too. In other words, Irving achieved his apotheosis of Arthur through a canny pastiche of artistic and popular elements that can be described as postmodern avant la lettre. He certainly expressed with uncommon clarity the cultural logic of late Victorian capitalism.

BRIAN LEAD The Magic Circle
Irving and the Magic Circle
When Irving was mounting his production of Faust he contacted his friend Maskelyne, and they devised a sword which produced sparks when used in a duel. The sword itself now resides in the Magic Circle museum near Euston, while the other ‘workings’ can be viewed a mile or so away at the Theatre Museum in Covent Garden. This paper will also recount the story of Irving presenting a ‘skit’ on his early years at Manchester on the American Davenport Brothers and their infamous ‘spirit cabinet’ act – including the way in which he worked out one of their tricks!

GAIL MARSHALL University of Leeds
Ellen Terry and Shakespeare
Henry Irving has usually been thought of as the man responsible for Ellen Terry’s incarnation as the late nineteenth-century’s leading Shakespearean actress. However, this paper will seek to realign this triangular relationship by examining what Terry conceived of as her life-long relationship with the playwright, and by arguing that Irving is seen more appropriately as intervening within an ongoing fascination than engineering the terms of Terry’s reification as a Shakespeare actress. The paper will pay particular attention to Terry’s writings about Shakespeare, in her published work, her annotations, and her letters.

DAVID MAYER Emeritus Professor at University of Manchester
Henry Irving's silent rival?
Following the success of 'The Bells' in 1871, Irving was relieved of his comic roles at the Lyceum, and Hezekiah Bateman brought in Charles Warner to replace Irving as Jingle.  The two men, born and dying within a few years of each other, thereafter acted at the Lyceum for another two years but, apart from W.G. Wills' Orpheus, the pair never appeared on the stage together.  I speculate that - despite many coincidences and similarities in their lives - Irving saw Warner as a dangerous rival and felt that it was in his interest to keep Warner at a distance.  Warner's success as Coupeau in Charles Reade's 1879 adaptation of Zola's l'Assomoir (Drink) saw Warner celebrated for highly theatricalised but "realistic" interior-acting - Irving's forte.  Tree Irving could mock and patronise, Benson and Martin-Harvey he could treat as children.  But to Warner, Irving was almost never friendly and all but totally silent.

ANDREW PRESCOTT University of Sheffield
Irving, Freemasonry and the Social Position of Actors
Sir Henry Irving was initiated as a Freemason in 1877, and, although not an active member of the Order, maintained his membership of Freemasonry up to his death. He was one of many prominent actors of the time who were Freemasons, such as Edward Terry and Augustus Harris. During this period, Freemasonry was a means by which members of emerging professions, such as school board teachers and vestry employees, affirmed their respectability and membership of the middle classes. This paper will consider whether Irving’s Freemasonry can be seen as part of his attempt to enhance the social standing of actors.

MICHAEL READ Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama, Cardiff
Henry Irving and J. L. Toole
This paper will bear something of a novelty value at an academic conference in that it will be a lecture-demonstration, not entirely a straight talk. It will not recycle familiar material from the Irving biographies we all know, but will be rooted in original and as yet unpublished research I did for my doctoral thesis on Toole at London University in 1984, and continue to do, among manuscript collections and neglected archives on both sides of the Atlantic, to establish the powerful influence of the symbiotic relationship between Toole and Irving upon the development of both – and of the wider theatre – from the start of their friendship in 1857 to its end forty-eight years later upon Irving’s death.
Toole was one of only three people to whom Irving was able to ‘open up’ and be himself. They met every day when they were both in London and corresponded constantly when they were not, even from across the world. In many ways they were opposites – physically, temperamentally, artistically, politically – but were complementary and remained mutually dependant, like the Knight of the Sorrowful Countenance and his Sancho Panza. It was Toole alone who kept faith with Irving’s genius in the 1860s and employed him at times when no one else would and gave his talent for classical tragedy its first truly effective exposure, paving the way for Irving’s engagement by Bateman at the Lyceum, and The Bells, and all that followed.

Near the end of the paper there will be a ten-minute practical demonstration of the turning-point in Irving’s career, when as a supporting member of Toole’s company of farce-actors, on a touring date at a provincial theatre in 1869, he stepped before the curtain between the pieces at the instigation of his employer, Toole, and thrilled the audience with a solo rendition of The Dream of Eugene Aram. Suddenly, thanks to Toole’s foresight and faith, the audience saw, as if for the first time, the Hamlet and Macbeth of their dreams, and Irving never looked back. I shall perform the monologue myself, recreating Irving’s acting style and, using my experience as a professional actor, shall aim to bring the conference audience to a closer awareness of the nature of Irving’s art in performance.

JEFFREY RICHARDS Lancaster University
Irving and the Playwrights
Two of the major criticisms that have been levelled against Irving, both in his own time and since, are that he did nothing to encourage contemporary British playwrights and that he underpaid his writers by comparison with other actor-managers. These criticisms will be addressed with the help of newly discovered documentation contained in the H. B. Irving Deed Box which was returned only recently to the family, and which I have been permitted to examine.

The paper will also analyse the process by which plays newly commissioned by Irving reached the stage and will demonstrate that it strongly resembled the way in which modern Hollywood films were scripted. It will trace the actor’s own input to argue that he should be seen in many, though not all, cases to have acted as part-author. 

LAURENCE SENELICK Tufts University
Sins of the Fathers: Dostoevsky and the Murders of Henry and Laurence Irving
This paper will examine Laurence Irving's dramatization of Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment.  It will explore the adaptations he effected to suit the fin-de-siecle stage, and how they drew on his father's performances in 'Eugene Aram' and 'The Bells'.  In a circular manner, it will then demonstrate that Dostoevsky was influenced by 'Eugene Aram' when he wrote Crime and Punishment, and that there is a closer relationship between English melodrama and Russian literature than has been previously suggested.

 KRISTAN TETENS Michigan State University
Islam, the Victorian Stage, and Henry Irving's Abandoned Production of "Mahomet" (1890)
In the fall of 1890, a curious letter to the editor appeared in The Times. "Within the last few weeks the news has been spread throughout the length and breadth of the Indian Empire that an English theatrical company intends shortly to represent on the stage in this country a play called ‘Mahomet,’ in which the chief character is the prophet of Arabia," wrote Raffiuddin Ahmad, vice president of the Liverpool Moslem Association. "The Indian Mussulmans are deeply irritated to learn of the proposed mockery of the prophet on the stage of a country which has pledged itself to respect their religious feelings, and the Queen of which has been destined by Providence to reign over a greater number of Moslems than any single ruler, Mahomedan or Christian, on the surface of the globe." He concluded by asking the newspaper’s readers, "Is it right and proper to hurt the religious feelings of so many of your fellow-subjects in the East, to satisfy the whims or fill the coffers of a theatrical company, however influential it may be?" The influential theatrical company in question was the Lyceum Theatre Company, headed by London’s most prominent actor-manager, Henry Irving. According to Bram Stoker and others, Irving had long had the desire to portray the founder of Islam. "I believe the idea of an Eastern play was mine, the thought of Mahomet was his," said the Manx playwright and novelist Hall Caine. In January 1890, Caine presented Irving with a detailed scenario of a play on the subject. Approval was given, and Caine set to work on what would have been a sweeping historical epic. He spent months writing the play, later noting that it was "by much the best of my dramatic efforts." In the summer of 1890, details of the impending production appeared in English and Indian newspapers, leading to a firestorm of protest throughout the subcontinent that took the form of public meetings, marches, petitions, and letter writing campaigns. Mindful of Britain’s 57 million Muslim subjects there, the Secretary of State for India warned the Lord Chamberlain, then responsible for the licensing of plays, that "there is no greater menace to the peaceful government of India than the fanaticism of the Mahomedans when once it is roused." The Lord Chamberlain, recognizing the political exigencies involved, promptly wrote to Irving, requesting that further work on ‘Mahomet’ be halted. Irving complied with the Lord Chamberlain’s wishes and the play was withdrawn. The Lord Chamberlain’s intervention represented a change in policy: previous plays on the prophet Muhammad’s life had not only been permitted but were popular with British audiences throughout the second half of the eighteenth century and the first part of the nineteenth. This paper will explore the changed circumstances that led to the suppression of the Lyceum Mahomet, including geopolitical concerns involving India, France, Germany, and Turkey that had become pressing by the late-Victorian period, as well as Irving’s working and personal relationships with Caine.  

PETER THOMSON Emeritus Professor of Drama at the University of Exeter
Irving and Edwin Longsden Long, RA
I am interested in the visual images that we hold when trying to envisage Irving’s acting, and, to some extent, with the ways in which he elected to present his image for public consumption. I do not, of course, know whether he gave his permission for the reproduction, in 1903, of the photograph selected for inclusion in Hollingshead’s Good Old Gaiety, which stood, by then, at a great distance from the received view of the theatrical ‘grand old man’. The Hollingshead profile – of a man in his late twenties or early thirties, no more an actor than a man-about-town – features a strong nose, curved at the bridge, a heavy, well-kempt moustache, a sweep of dark wavy hair, cut just short of the collar and a left ear almost indecently exposed. The jaw, you would have to say, is ‘determined’, and the adjective for which the photograph is hunting is ‘handsome’. But ‘handsomeness’ is not appropriate to our reconstructions of the Lyceum years, which are designed, probably, according to the famous photographs of Irving as Mathias. ‘Striking’, yes – and it is the immediacy of his visual assault on spectators that is most insisted on by the paintings I would like to look at: Edwin Long’s (Hamlet), Whistler’s (Philip of Spain) and perhaps a few by his artistic Boswell, Bernard Partridge. Even in caricature, it is the self-constructed ‘actor’ who shines through.

But Irving the actor was always shadowed by the aura of Irving the man – partly a lonely brooder (W. Graham Robertson’s photograph) and partly the beneficent sage Mortimer Menpes drew, and presented to the world in the year after Irving’s death.

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