Humphrey Lyttelton, the presenter of the Radio 4 comedy show I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue, has died aged 86. The jazz musician, journalist, cartoonist and much-loved radio host, who had chaired the self-styled “antidote to panel games” since 1972, was admitted to hospital this week for surgery to repair an aortic aneurysm.

Said to be “otherwise fine and in good spirits”, his ill health had already prompted the cancellation of the spring series of the show. The BBC confirmed his death last night.

As chairman of I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue, “Humph” was famed for his ability to deliver the smuttiest of innuendoes with apparent innocence, keeping the humour rude, but rarely offensive. But the man who frequently reduced listeners to hysterics with the fictitious sexploits of his scorer, “Samantha”, had talents far beyond keeping a straight face.

Over more than six decades in public life, Lyttelton also found time to indulge his passion for calligraphy and write more than half a dozen books.

Lyttelton was born on May 23, 1921, at Eton College, where his father was a housemaster. After leaving school he served with the Grenadier Guards during the war before going to Camberwell Art College in Central London. In 1949 he joined the Daily Mail as a cartoonist, working, among other projects, on the popular Flook strip, and stayed there until 1956.

He was emerging as a key figure in the British revival of traditional jazz forms. His Bad Penny Blues became the first British jazz record to enter the Top Twenty in 1956. That year his Lyttelton Band supported the jazz legend Louis Armstrong in London.

Perhaps the key moment in Lyttelton’s comedy career was becoming the surprise choice as chairman of I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue in 1972. It proved to be an inspired move by the producers, as his deadpan delivery supplied the perfect foil to the bizarre games being played by regular panel-lists including Graeme Garden, Tim Brooke-Taylor and the late Willie Rushton. Last year Brooke-Taylor was asked to contemplate the future of the long-running radio show without its presenter. He said: “Humph is the most important component. Willie Rushton and I talked about it once and we agreed that if Humph isn’t there it’s not worth doing.”

The programme regularly attracted audiences of two million. Asked to explain its enduring popularity, Lyttelton said: “It’s chronically unpredictable. It doesn’t get stale because nobody knows what’s going to happen next, least of all us.”

In 1993 Lyttelton was awarded the radio industry’s highest honour, the Sony Gold Award, and received lifetime achievement awards at the Post Office British Jazz Awards in 2000 and the BBC Jazz Awards in 2001. He continued touring with his band until well into his 80s.

Lyttelton, a father of four, married twice, first in 1948 and then again after a divorce in 1952. In 1995 he was reported to have been offered a knighthood by John Major’s Government, but turned it down.

Mark Damazer, the Radio 4 Controller, described Lyttelton as “an extraordinarily modest man” and “a great and towering figure of Radio 4 comedy”.

Jenny Abramsky, Director of Audio and Music at the corporation, said: “Humphrey Lyttelton has been one of the wonders of radio broadcasting for years.”

Mark Thompson, the BBC Director-General, said: “Humphrey Lyttelton will leave an enormous gap not just in British cultural life as a whole but in the lives of many millions of listeners.

“He was a unique, irreplaceable talent. Like his many fans we owe him an enormous debt of gratitude. Like them, all of us at the BBC feel a tremendous sense of loss.”

Lyttelton used to end every edition of I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue with typically surreal sign-off lines. One example was: “As the vanquished charwoman of time begins to Shake n’ Vac the shagpile of eternity, I notice that we have just run out of time.”

SCORING WITH THE LOVELY SAMANTHA

Lyttelton was famous for his delivery of double entendres on I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue. Most featured the escapades of the show’s fictitious scorer, Samantha:

“Samantha’s just started keeping bees and already has three dozen or so. She says she’s got an expert handler coming round to give a demonstration. He’ll carefully take out her 38 bees and soon have them flying round his head”

“Samantha has to nip off to the National Opera, where she’s been giving private tuition to the singers. Having seen what she did to the baritone, the director is keen to see what she might do for a tenor”

“Samantha has to nip off to a Welsh Conservative Association dinner for their most senior MP, whose name is said to be almost impossible to pronounce. She’s certainly found the longest standing Welsh member a bit of a mouthful”

“Samantha has to go now as she’s off to meet her Italian gentleman friend who’s taking her out for an ice-cream. She says she likes to spend the evening licking the nuts off a large Neapolitan”

“Samantha does a few chores for an elderly gentleman who lives nearby. She shows him how to use the washing machine and then prunes his fruit trees. Later he’ll hang out his pyjamas as he watches her beaver away up the ladder”

“After tasting the meat pies, Samantha said she liked Mr Dewhurst’s beef in ale; although she preferred his tongue in cider”

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