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The criminal proceedings for libel which Oscar Fingall O'Flahertie Wilde has set in motion against John Sholto Douglas, Marquis of Queensberry, commenced on Wednesday at the Old Bailey. Public interest in the case is enormous. Long before the hour appointed for the opening of the court doors their vicinity is thick with humanity, and five minutes after they have been thrown open the court is crammed to suffocation. So it was on Wednesday and Thursday. When the court opened on Wednesday the marquis lost no time in stepping into the dock. The indictment was gabbled over to him and he pleaded "Not guilty," that the libel was true, and that it was for the public benefit that it was printed. Sir Edward Clark opened the case. He told how the marquis had left a card with the hall porter of the Albemarle Club addressed "To Oscar Wilde;" whereon were words gross and libellous. The accusation against Mr. Wilde was one of the gravest that could be made, but the plea put before the court raised a much graver issue. There was no accusation in the plea that Mr. Wilde had been guilty of a criminal offence, but there were given a number of names of persons whom he was accused of inciting to commit such offences, and with whom he was charged with improper conduct. Having said so much, Sir Edward sketched Oscar's career for the benefit of those who knew not Oscar prior to the æsthetic craze period. And then he came to speak of the circumstances under which the various parties in the present action became acquainted, and dwelt upon transactions connected with certain letters and other incidents about which Mr. Wilde spoke freely in his examination later on. One of these letters addressed by Oscar to young Douglas was read by Sir Edward. It ran thus: —

My own dear boy — Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for music of song than for madness of kissing. Your slim-gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things, and come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place. It only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love, yours, OSCAR.

A review of the meetings between the marquis and Oscar concluded a long and able opening.

After the Albemarle porter had proved the marquis's call, &, came the real beginning of the case. Oscar, cool as a cucumber, and fatter than ever, glided gracefully into the box. Sir Edward Clarke having examined him as to his relations with the Douglas family, and as to the attempts of Woods and others to blackmail him on the strength of certain letters found in the pockets of Lord Alfred Douglas's cast-off clothing, and having obtained his denial to the insinuation of the marquis that he was kicked out of the Savoy Hotel on account of disgusting conduct, gave Oscar up to the tender mercies of Carson, Q.C. The learned counsel commenced to cross-examine Oscar somewhat minutely as to his literary output, but more especially in regard to certain poetic contributions to a fin de siècle magazine called The Chameleon. Carson, Q.C., suggested that these contributions would convey improper suggestions, but Oscar said "No." He considered them exceedingly beautiful poems. Regarding a very warm story entitled "The Priest and the Acolyte," which most people attributed to Oscar, the æsthete denied the authorship. He thought it was badly written, but would not call it immoral or blasphemous. As Oscar had already stated that in his opinion there is no such thing as an immoral book, the point of Carson's examination at this juncture was not apparent. But he kept to Oscar's literature, and presently "Dorian Grey" was dragged in. Oscar repudiated the suggestion that Dorian's sin was "unnatural vice," and remarked that the book could only be called vicious when misinterpreted by the vulgar and the illiterate. Oscar said he did not write for the "ordinary individual," which brought from Carson, Q.C., the remark that the novelist did not mind the ordinary individual buying his books. "I have never discouraged him," quoth Oscar loftily. Asked if he had ever experienced the sentiments of the painter Basil, and whether he thought them natural, Oscar made answer, "I should think it perfectly natural to intensely adore and love a younger man. It is an incident in the life of almost every artist." Carson, Q.C., wanted to know if Oscar had himself adored madly a man twenty years his junior? He said he had loved one - not madly, but just loved one. Adoration was a thing he reserved to himself. He had, however, never been jealous; jealousy was, he thought, an intense nuisance. Then Mr. Carson came to the novelist's letter to young Douglas. The one quoted, Mr. Carson suggested, was an improper letter to write to a young man, but Oscar could not see eye to eye with his tormentor. The letter was a "prose-poem," "beautiful," "unique," but not as the Q.C. read it. "You read it very badly, Mr. Carson," said Oscar blandly; "you are not an artist." "I do not profess to be an artist, Mr. Wilde, and sometimes when I hear your evidence I am glad I am not one," responded the lawyer gravely. He then read another of Oscar's "prose-poems," which ran thus: —

Dearest of all boys, your letter was delightful. Red and yellow wine to me. But I am out of sorts. You must not make scenes with me. They kill me. They wreck the loveliness of life. I cannot see you so Greek and gracious, distorted by passion. I cannot listen to your curved lips saying hideous things to me. You break my heart. I must see you soon. You are the divine thing. I want a thing of grace and genius, but I do not know how to do it. Shall I come to Salisbury? There are many difficulties; my bill here (at Goring) is £49 for the week. I have got a new sitting-room, over the Thames. But, you, why are you not here, my dear, my beautiful boy? I fear I must leave. No money, no credit, and a heart of lead. -Ever your own, OSCAR.

"An extraordinary letter," commented Oscar softly. "Everything I write is extraordinary. I do not pose as being ordinary." Mr. Carson then reverted to the episode of the letters upon which a man named Cleburn attempted to blackmail Mr. Wilde, and touched upon the plaintiff's relations with two young men, named Wood and Taylor. Oscar denied improper conduct with these men, but admitted having "dined and wined" them in private rooms at the Café Florence, and to having given Wood various sums of money amounting to over £30 "out of pure kindness." He admitted also that, though believing Wood to be levying blackmail, he privileged him to use his Christian name. But he explained that everybody called him "Oscar." Passing on to another case Mr. Carson questioned the plaintiff as to his friendship for Edward Shelley, sometime an assistant in Messrs. Elkin Lane's office. Oscar repudiated all sinister suggestions in connection with this youth. Shelley had an intellectual face and literary ambitions, so Oscar dined him at the Albemarle Hotel in a private room, and gave him autograph copies of "Dorian Gray" and other Wilde works. Then Oscar's intimacy with a youth named Alphonso Conway was enquired into. Alphonso was a "pleasant creature" whose "simple conversation" attracted Wilde so much that he gave him a silver cigarette case, an inscribed photograph, an autograph volume, a silver-mounted walking-cane, a blue serge suit, and a straw hat, and finally took him for a trip to Brighton. All this Oscar did out of kindness, and not with any idea of subverting the lad's morals.

On Thursday Mr. Carson continued his crusade, and Oscar was called upon to answer an exhaustive series of questions as to his "friendship" for other young men. He admitted that he took to Paris a boy named Atkins, and shared a suite of rooms, all communicating, with the lad. But he denied any impropriety, and waxed very indignant when Mr. Carson made the "monstrous suggestion" that he had "plied Atkins with wine." The case of Ernest Scarth was next on the board. Scarth was, said Oscar, "a pleasant, nice, good fellow," who had been kind to Lord Douglas of Hawick during a voyage from Australia, so he dined the young man. Oscar indignantly denied that he kissed Scarth or had acted improperly with the young fellow. Similarly he denied that he had committed any impropriety with one Sydney Maror, who stayed with him all night at the Albermarle, and to whom he gave a four-guinea cigarette case. He did these things simply for the sake of conversing with "a very charming, nice fellow." Now came a little scene. Oscar was questioned as to his relations with a lad named Granger, who was Lord Alfred Douglas's servant at Oxford. "Have you ever kissed this boy?" demanded Carson, Q.C., abruptly. Oscar replied airily, "Oh, no! certainly not. A peculiarly plain boy." The counsel pounced on this expression instantly, asked if it was only because the boy was ugly that he was not kissed. Oscar for the first time hesitated before answering, and then replied evasively, "No; because it seems such an intense insult on your part. It seems ridiculous to imagine that any such thing could have occurred." "Then why mention his ugliness?" demanded the Q.C. sternly. "I should not like to kiss a boy," replied Oscar, adding hotly, "Am I to be cross-examined as to the reasons I should not like to kiss a boy?" "Well, why mention his ugliness?" reiterated Carson, Q.C., blandly. "Because," exclaimed Oscar shrilly, "you sting me with insolent questions; you try to unnerve me in every way, and make me say things flippantly that I would not say seriously." Carson, Q.C., agreed to take the "ugliness" as a flippant answer, but smiled meaningly at the jury. At 12.30 the cross-examination concluded, and Sir Edward Clarke rose to re-examine. He read several pathetic letters from Lord Queensberry to young Douglas, which it is not necessary to dwell upon. Certainly they tended to show that the marquis deemed his son's close friendship with Wilde a horrible thing, which should be smashed no matter the cost. The re-examination proper enabled Oscar to deny the defendant's statement that Mrs. Wilde was seeking divorce, but Sir Edward did not take his client over the ground covered by Mr. Carson again. The jury having asked a few questions relative to the publication of the Chameleon the case for the prosecution was closed.

Mr. Carson then rose to address the jury on the more serious side of the justification of the alleged libel. He said that Lord Queensberry withdrew nothing that he had said or written, having done everything with premeditation and a determination at all risks and hazards to try and save his son. His conduct has been absolutely consistent throughout. From beginning to end Lord Queensberry had been influenced with regard to Mr. Oscar Wilde by the one hope alone of saving his son. What had been Mr. Wilde's own case? That up to a certain date he had met Lord Queensberry, who had been on terms of friendship with him. Lord Queensberry had heard of Mr. Wilde's character, and of these scandals at the Savoy Hotel, which would be proved before them. Mr. Wilde had been going about with young men who were not his equals either in position or education. He thought it would be proved that some of these men were known as some of the most immoral characters in London, and he specially referred to Taylor, who was the right man to assist Wilde in all these orgies. Had they been able to cross-examine Taylor they would have learned what went on. Taylor was the pivot of the case, for the simple reason that when they heard the witnesses examined — and he would be unfortunately compelled to examine them on the immoral practices of Mr. Oscar Wilde — it would be found that Taylor was the man who introduced them to Wilde. When Mr. Wilde wanted to show that someone was present he mentioned a gentleman who could not be called because he was out of the country; but Taylor was in the country and could have been called. They were told that the friendship of Wilde and Taylor had not been interrupted. With regard to the books, they were being continually told by Mr. Wilde that they were by an artist for artists, but there was the greatest contrast between his books, which were for the select and not for the ordinary individual, and the way he chose his friends. He took up with Charlie Parker, a gentleman's servant, whose brother is a gentleman's servant; with young Conway, whose brother sold papers on the pier at Worthing; and with Scarfe, also a gentleman's servant. Then his excuse was no longer that he was dwelling in regions of art, but that he had such a noble, such a democratic soul, that he drew no social distinctions, and that it was quite as much pleasure to have the sweeping boy from the streets to lunch or dine with him as the greatest literateur or artist. Mr. Carson considered the positions absolutely irreconcilable. He thought if they had rested the case alone upon Mr. Wilde's literature they would have been absolutely justified in the course which Lord Queensberry had taken. Lord Queensberry undertook to prove that Mr. Wilde was posing as guilty of certain vices. Mr. Wilde never complained of the immorality of the story of "The Priest and the Acolyte." He knew no distinction, in fact, between a moral and an immoral book. Nor did he care whether the article was in its very terms blasphemous. All that Mr. Wilde said was that he did not approve of the story from a literary point of view. What was that story? It was the story of the love of a priest for the acolyte who attended him at Mass. Exactly the same idea that ran through the two letters to Lord A. Douglas ran through that story and through "Dorian Gray." Unable to persuade the rector as Mr. Wilde had been unable to persuade the public of the beauty of this love the priest and the acolyte resolved to die together upon the altar. The priest administered poison and they died together on the altar in an embrace after the priest had used the sacred words and forms of the Christian faith. When asked if that was not blasphemy Mr. Wilde said that he did not think it was. The same idea ran through those two letters which Mr. Wilde called beautiful, but which he called disgusting. Moreover, there was in this same Chameleon a poem which showed some justification for the frightful anticipations which Lord Queensberry entertained for his son. The poem was written by Lord Alfred Douglas, and was seen by Mr. Wilde before its publication. Was it not a terrible thing that a young man on the threshold of life, who had been for several years dominated by Oscar Wilde, and who had been "adored and loved" by Oscar Wilde, as the two letters proved, should thus show the tendency of his mind upon this frightful subject? What would be the horror of any man whose son wrote such a poem?

This (Friday) morning the case came to an abrupt but perhaps not unexpected ending. Mr. Carson was continuing his rigorous denunciation of Wilde and his works (Oscar was not in court) when Sir Edward Clarke touched his arm and whispered in his ear. Mr. Carson sat down, and Sir Edward, rising, said he was prepared to accept a verdict of "not guilty" on behalf of his client. The judge put two things to the jury, viz., that the justification set up by the Marquis of Queensberry was true in substance and in fact, and that the Marquis's statement was published in such a manner as to be for the public benefit. Amid loud applause the jury intimated that they considered both these things to be fact, and a few minutes later the court was empty.

The facts which have been elicited in the course of the trial of Lord Queensberry for a criminal libel upon Oscar Wilde, have created a strong feeling of disgust amongst all decent people, and the newspapers are giving as few of the details as possible. Indeed the St. James Gazette insists that the proceedings should have been in camera, and refuses to report the case at all. It is, perhaps, sufficient to state that Lord Queensberry, indignant at the intimacy between his son, Lord Alfred Douglas and Oscar Wilde, left a card on the latter, in which he charged him with the commission of a horrible crime. For this libel Lord Queensberry was committed for trial. The Marquis admitted that he had written the libel, and stated that the words were true, and that he published them for the public benefit. In the course of the trial Oscar Wilde said that he had written the following letter to Lord Alfred: –

My own boy, — Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yours should have been made no less for music of song than for madness of kisses. Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there to cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things, and come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place — it only lacks you; but go to Salisbury first. — Always with undying love, yours, OSCAR."

This letter fell into the possession of some persons who tried to blackmail him. Mr. Wilde insisted that it was a poem, and would as such be regarded by artists and men of letters.

Another letter was as follows: —

Savoy Hotel, Thames Embankment, W.C. — Dearest of all boys, — Your letter was delightful, red and yellow wine to me, but I am sad and out of sorts. Boysie you must not make scenes with me. They kill me, they wreck the loveliness of life. I cannot see you, so Greek and gracious, distorted with passion. I cannot listen to your curved lips saying hideous things to me. I would sooner — [here a word is indecipherable] — than have you bitter, unjust, hating. I must see you soon. You are the divine thing I want, the thing of grace and beauty, but I don't know how to do it. Shall I come to Salisbury. My bill here is £49 for a week. (Laughter.) I have also got a new sitting room. Why are you not here, my dear, my wonderful boy? I fear I must leave. No money, no credit. — Your own OSCAR.

In cross-examination Wilde was asked, "ls that an extraordinary letter?" to which he replied, "Everything I write is extraordinary. I do not pose as being ordinary." He admitted being on friendly terms with a number of boys and young men, for he revelled in the society of youth, but he denied the inference which Mr. Carson, Q.C., who represented Lord Queensberry, tried to draw from this admission.

Letters from Lord Queensberry to Lord Alfred Douglas were read in court. The first was a letter dated Sunday, 1st April, from Carter's Hotel, Albemarle-street. It began, "Alfred, — It is extremely painful to me to have to write to you in the terms I must," and said Lord Alfred must understand that no answers in writing would be received, or if received would be burnt unread. " After your previous hysterically impertinent one, I refuse to be annoyed with such, and must ask you, if you have anything to say to me, to come here and say it in person." His lordship, after asking if he was to understand that his son, having left Oxford in disgrace, and fallen away from his intention to enter the Civil Service or the Foreign Office, intended to take up any other serious line of life, proceeded: —

I decline to supply you with funds to loaf and loll. You are preparing a wretched future for yourself, and it would be cruel and wrong of me to encourage you in this. Secondly, I come to the more painful part of this letter — your infamous intimacy with this man Wilde must cease, or I will disown you and stop all supplies...I'm not going to analyse this intimacy, and I make no accusations, but to my mind to pose as a thing is as bad as to be the real thing. I saw you from my own window only yesterday with this man. It simply turned my blood cold. Never in my human experience have I seen such a sight as I saw in your horrible faces...I hear on good authority that his wife is going to divorce him on grounds of unnatural crimes. Is this right, and if so do you know of it, going about as you do with him? If I thought the thing was true and it becomes public property, I should be quite justified in shooting him at sight. — Your disgusted so-called father, QUEENSBERRY.

In reply to this Lord Alfred telegraphed:

To Lord Queensberry, Carter's Hotel, Albemarle-street. — What a funny little man you are.

Lord Queenberry's retort was another letter, beginning: —

To Lord Alfred Douglas, — You impertinent young jackanapes! I request you will not send me such messages through the telegraph. If you come to me with any of your impertinences I will give you the thrashing you so richly deserve. The only excuse for you is that you must be crazy. I heard from a man who was at Oxford with you that this was your reputation there. It accounts a good deal for what has happened. If I catch you with that man again I will make a public scandal in a way you little dream of. Unless it ceases, I shall carry out my threat and stop all supplies. So you know what to expect. —QUEENSBERRY.

The next letter was written by Lord Queensberry from Skindles to Mr. Alfred Montgomery, the father of Lady Queensberry, divorced. Among much that was incoherent, Lord Queensberry said: —

Your daughter is the person who is supporting my son to defy me. I have had a quibbling, prevaricating message from her saying the boy denied having been to the Savoy for the last year. Why send it at all unless he denies ever having stayed at the Savoy at all with Oscar Wilde? As a fact he did do so, and there has been a hideous scandal. I was told they were warned off. This hideous scandal has been going on for years. I don't want to make out a case against my son, nothing of the kind, but I have made out a case against Oscar Wilde. If I were quite certain of the actual thing I would shoot the fellow at sight. But I am only accusing him of posing, and for that I will chastise him and mark him. I don't believe Wilde will now dare to defy me. He plainly showed the white feather the other day, the damned cur and coward! He is no son of mine. His mother may support him, but she shall not do it in London and with this going on. The Rosebery-Gladstone-Royal insult which came to me through my other son came to me through her. I thought it was you, but it appears it was not... I saw Drumlanrig here on the river last night, which much upset me. Rosebery not only insulted me by lying to the Queen, which she knows, and makes her as bad as him, but Gladstone also has made a lifelong quarrel between my son and me.

The last letter was written from Scotland to Lord Alfred Douglas. If Lord Alfred really were his son, Lord Queensberry wrote, how right he had been to face any outcry or ignominy rather than run the risk of bringing any more such creatures into the world. When Lord Alfred was quite a baby Lord Queensberry had looked upon him in his cradle and wept the bitterest tears a man could shed at thinking he had brought such a creature into the world. In this Christian country it was a wise father who knew his own son. There was madness on the mother's side, and few families in this Christian country were without it if they could be looked into. "I make allowances; I think you are demented, and I am very sorry for you. No wonder you have fallen a prey to that horrible brute. You must gang your ain gait."

The following postcard from Lord Alfred to his father shows the feelings with which he regards his parent: —

As you return my letters unopened I am obliged to write a postcard. I write to inform you that I consider your absurd threats with absolute indifference. Ever since your last exhibition at O.W.'s house I have made a point of appearing with him at many public restaurants — such as the Berkeley, Willis's Rooms, the Café Royal, &., &. — and I shall continue to go to these places when and with just whom I choose. I am of age, and my own master. You have disowned me at least a dozen times, and have very meanly deprived me of money. You have, therefore, no rights over me, legal or moral. If O.W. was to prosecute you for libel in the criminal courts you would get seven years’ penal servitude for your outrageous libels. Much as I detest you I am anxious to avoid this for the sake of the family, but if you try to assault me I shall defend myself with a loaded revolver, which I always carry, and if I shoot you, or [O.W.] shoots you, we should be completely justified, as we should be acting in self defence against a violent and dangerous rough; and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you. (Signed, A.D.)

In defence Mr. Carson reiterated the charges made by Lord Queensberry, and said that he intended to prove them to the hilt. However, he had no opportunity of doing so, for Sir Edward Clarke withdrew from the case, and Lord Queensberry was acquitted by the jury finding that the charge was true, and that its publication was for the public benefit.