Compare Documents

The trial of JOHN SHOLTO DOUGLAS, Marquis of Queensberry, who surrendered, upon an indictment charging him with unlawfully and maliciously writing and publishing a false, malicious, and defamatory libel of and concerning Mr. Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde in the form of a card directed to him, was resumed.

Sir Edward Clarke, Q.C., Mr. Charles Mathews, and Mr. Travers Humphreys appeared for the prosecution; Mr. Carson, Q.C., Mr. C. F. Gill, and Mr. A. Gill defended. Mr. Besley, Q.C., Mr. Monckton, and Mr. Leonard Kershaw watched the case for a person interested.

The cross-examination of Mr. Oscar Wilde by Mr. CARSON, Q.C., was continued. Witness said it was a person named Taylor who arranged the interview with Wood in reference to the letters at his (Taylor's) rooms in Little College-street. Taylor had been to witness's house and chambers, and he himself used to go to Taylor's rooms to afternoon tea parties. Taylor's rooms did not strike him as anything peculiar except that they were furnished in better taste than usual. They were very pretty rooms. He had seen the rooms lighted otherwise than by candles. It would be quite untrue, he should think, to say that Taylor had a double set of curtains drawn across the windows and that the rooms were always lighted by candles. He had known Taylor to burn perfumes in his rooms. He never saw Wood at tea there, except on one occasion. He had seen Sidney Mayor, who was 25 years of age, at Taylor's rooms. He had not seen Mayor for a year and did not know where he was. When at tea at Taylor's there was no servant to wait. Witness had no particular business with Taylor--Taylor was a friend of his and was a young man of great taste and intelligence, educated at a very good English school. Witness had not got Taylor to arrange dinners for him to meet young men. He had dined with Taylor at restaurants in private rooms--he preferred dining in private rooms. He did not know that Taylor was being watched by the police ; he never heard that. He knew that Taylor and Parker were arrested in a raid made at a house in Fitzroy-square last year. He saw Parker at Taylor's residence in Chapel-street. Taylor had introduced five young men to him with whom he had been friendly. Witness had given money or presents to all five ; they gave him nothing. Among the five Taylor introduced him to Charles Parker and he became on friendly terms with him. He did not know that Parker was a gentleman's servant out of employment. Being asked by Mr. Carson how old Parker was, the witness replied that he did not keep a census and he could not tell. It would be rather vulgar of him to ask people their age. Parker was not a literary character nor an artist, and culture was not his strong point. He himself never inquired what Parker had been--he never inquired about people's past. He did not know where Parker was now. He had given Parker £4 or £5 because he was poor and because he liked him. He first met Parker at Kettner's restaurant. Witness invited Taylor to dinner at Kettner's on the occasion of his birthday, and told him to bring what friends he liked, and he brought Parker and Parker's brother. Witness did not know that one of the Parkers was a gentleman's servant and the other a groom. The reason he invited them to dinner was the pleasure of being with those who were young, bright, happy, care less, original--he did not like the sensible and he did not like the old. The dinner was one of Kettner's best--with the best of wine. Being asked by Mr. Carson whether he gave them an intellectual treat, the witness said that they seemed greatly impressed. They had what wine they wanted, and he did not stint them--no gentleman would stint his guests. He did not take Charles Parker to the Savoy after the dinner, and he did not give him money. Charles Parker never dined with him at the Savoy. From October, 1893, to April, 1894, witness had chambers in St. James's-place. His impression was that Taylor wrote to him saying that Charles Parker was in town and would like to see him, and witness replied that he could come and have afternoon tea with him. Charles Parker came there to tea. He gave Charles Parker a silver cigarette case as a Christmas present, and he gave him £3 or £4 because he was hard up and asked him for it. No impropriety took place. Being asked by Mr. Carson what there was in common between witness and Charles Parker, witness replied that he liked the society of people who were much younger than himself and who were idle and careless, and he did not like social distinctions of any kind. To him the mere fact of youth was so wonderful that he would sooner talk to a young man for half an hour than be cross-examined in Court. He would talk to a street arab with pleasure. Charles Parker told him he had an income from his father. The witness did not think he had written any beautiful letters to Charles Parker. He did not go at half-past 12 at night in March or April, 1893, to visit Charles Parker at Park-walk, Chelsea. He heard that Parker had enlisted in the Army. In August last year he read of the arrest of Taylor and Parker in the raid at a house in Fitzroy-square. The magistrate dismissed the case. He read the names of the persons who were arrested. He had never heard the name of Preston in respect of the Cleveland-street scandal. When he read that Taylor was arrested witness was greatly distressed and wrote to tell him so. He had not seen Taylor again until this year. The fact of Taylor's having been arrested did not make any difference in their friendship. Witness first knew Freddy Atkins in October or November, 1892. He told witness he was employed by a firm of bookmakers. Witness did not come in contact with him by making bets. Atkins was a young man of 19 or 20 when the witness first met him. He met him at a gentleman's rooms off Regent-street--he thought, Margaret-street. He did not meet him at Taylor's. Several people were present when he was introduced to Atkins. He never asked Atkins to dinner or to lunch. He met him at a dinner given by a gentleman at Kettner's. He thought Taylor was at the dinner. He met Atkins two days afterwards. He felt friendly towards Atkins at the dinner and thought be was very good company. He called him "Fred," and Atkins called him " Oscar." Atkins had an ambition to go on the music-hall stage. Atkins did not discuss literature with him; witness would not allow him to. Atkins never lunched with him at the Cafe Royal. On one occasion a gentleman was lunching with Atkins at the Cafe Royal, and they came over and had coffee with witness, who had had been lunching there. Subsequently witness was going to Paris to see a firm of publishers about a work which he was bringing out. Atkins and another gentleman were going there, and it was arranged that all three should go together. The gentleman, however, could not go, and he asked witness to allow Atkins to accompany him. He paid Atkins's fare, but it was repaid. He did not suggest that Atkins should go in the capacity of his secretary. They stayed at an hotel in Paris in the Boulevard des Capucines. He did not see much of Atkins in Paris,and Atkins was not there as his guest. When witness returned to London he was ill. Atkins and the gentleman came to see him while he was ill. He did not ask Atkins to promise not to say anything about the visit to Paris. He had been to Atkins's address in Ospaburgh-street to tea. Another gentleman was there, about 20 years of age. He gave Atkins about £3 15s. to buy his first song for the music-hall stage. Atkins music-hall stage never took less. That was in March, 1894. There was never any occasion for any impropriety between witness and Atkins. Witness knew Ernest Searle, whom he met in December, 1893. Taylor introduced him to him. At the time Searle's occupation was nothing. Searle had been to Australia. Taylor introduced Searle to him at St. James's-place. Witness did not ask him to bring him there. Mr. Carson asked how Taylor came to bring Searle there, and witness replied that Taylor told him that he knew a young man who had met Lord Douglas of Harwick on board ship going out to Australia. Subsequently Taylor and Searle dined with witness at Kettner's. He gave Searle a cigarette ease; it was his custom to give cigarette cases. He first met Sidney Mayor in September, 1892. Mayor was 25 years of age. Taylor did not introduce Mayor to him. Mayor was introduced to witness by the gentleman who asked him to allow Atkins to accompany him to Paris. Witness never gave Mayor any money, and he never gave Taylor any money to give to him. He gave Mayor a cigarette case. A cigarette case was the present which he usually gave to any one whom he liked. Mayor stayed with him for one night at an hotel in Albemarle-street in October, 1892. Mayor came there because witness had asked him to meet him at the railway station on his return from Scotland, and he stayed with him at the hotel because he was on his way through London and there was no one at home, and it was nicer to have a companion. Witness knew Walter Granger, a servant at some rooms at Oxford where he stayed in 1893. Granger was 16 years of age. Witness emphatically denied the allegations in the plea of justification.

In re-examination by Sir Edward Clarke, the witness said it was from certain letters produced that he gathered that Lord Queensberry objected to his friendship with Lord Alfred Douglas.

The letters were as follows :--

"Carter's Hotel, Albemarle-street, Sunday, April 1, 1894.

"Alfred,--It is extremely painful to me to have to write to you. in this strain. I must, but please understand I decline to receive any answers from you in writing in return. Any letters coming under a disguised handwriting or in other people's, if opened by mistake, will be out in the fire unread. After your previous hysterical impertinent ones I refuse to be annoyed with such, and must ask you if you have any thing to say to come here and say it in person. Firstly, am I to understand that having left Oxford, as you did, with discredit to yourself, the reasons of which were fully explained to me by your tutor, you now intend to loaf and loll about and do nothing? All the time you were wasting at Oxford I was put off with the assurance that you were eventually to go into the Civil Service or to the Foreign Office, and then I was put off by an assurance of your going to the Bar. It appears to me you intend to do nothing; in fact the important valuable time has passed, and it seems you are too late now for any profession. I utterly decline to supply you, however, with sufficient funds just to enable you to loaf. You are preparing a wretched future for yourself, and it would be most cruel and wrong of me to encourage you in this. Do you seriously intend to make no attempt to help yourself, and to go on with year present life, doing nothing? Secondly, I come to the more painful part of this letter--your infamous intimacy with this man Wilde. It must either cease or I will disown you and stop all money supplies and if necessary I will go to him personally and tell him so. Also, he shall have a bit of my mind. I am not going to try and analyze this intimacy, and I make no accusation, but to my mind to pose as a thing is as bad as the real thing. . . . I hear on good authority, but this may he false, that his wife is petitioning to divorce him. Is this true, or do you know of it? If so, what is to be your position, going about as you do with him." The letter was signed, "Your disgusted so-called father, QUEENSBERRY.'"

To this Lord Alfred Douglas telegraphed to his father:--" What a funny little man you are !-- ALFRED DOUGLAS." Lord Queensberry's next letter to Lord Alfred was in these terms :-- "You impertinent little jackanapes. I request you will not send me such messages through the telegraph, and if you come to me with any of your impertinence I will give you the thrashing you richly deserve. The only excuse for you is that you must be crazy. I heard from a man the other day who was at Oxford with you that that was your reputation there, which accounts for a good deal that has happened. All I can say is if I catch you with that man again I will make a public scandal in a way you little dream of. It is already a suppressed one. I prefer an open one, and at any rate I shall be no longer blamed for allowing such a state of things to go on. Unless this acquaintance ceases I shall carry out my threat and stop all supplies, and if you are not going to make any attempt to do something I shall certainly cut you down to a mere pittance, so you know what you are to expect.--Queensberry."

A third letter was written to Mr. A. Montgomery, the father of the Marchioness of Queensberry, who had obtained a divorce from the Marquis, in which, dating from Maidenhead, he said:--"Sir,--I have changed my mind, and, as I am not at all well, having been very much upset by what has happened the last ten days, I do not see why I should come dancing attendance upon you. . . . Your daughter is the person who is supporting my son to defy me. She won't write, but she is now telegraphing on the subject to me, Last night, after hearing from you, I received a very quibbling, prevaricating sort of message from her, saying the boy denied having been at the Savoy for the last year, or with Oscar Wilde at all. As a matter of fact he did, and there has been a scandal. I am told they were warned off, but the proprietor would not admit this. This hideous scandal has been going on for years. Your daughter must he mad in the way she is behaving. She evidently wants to make out I want to make out a case against my son. It is nothing of the kind. I have made out a case against Oscar Wilde, and I have to his face accused him of it. . . It now lies in the hands of these two whether they will further defy me. Your daughter appears to me now to he encouraging them to do so, although she can hardly intend this. I don't believe Wilde will now dare defy me. He plainly showed the white feather the other day when I tackled him--a damned cur and coward of the Rosebery type. As for this so-called son of mine, I will have nothing to do with him. He may starve as far as I am concerned after his behaviour to me. His mother may support him, but she shan't do that here in London with this awful scandal going on. But your daughter's conduct is outrageous, and I am now fully convinced that the Rosebery-Gladstone-Royal insult that came to me through my other son, that she worked that, I thought it was you. . . It shall be known some day by all that Rosebery not only insulted me by lying to the Queen, which she knows, which makes her as bad as him and Gladstone, but also has made a life-long quarrel between my son and I."

Witness said there was no truth whatever in the statement in Lord Queensberry's letter that witness's wife was going to petition for a divorce, It was from the letters of Lord Queensberry which Sir Edward Clarke had read that witness gathered that Lord Queensberry objected to his friendship with Lord Alfred Douglas, but, having regard to the character of those letters, he thought it right to entirely disregard them. Witness first knew Taylor in October, 1892, being introduced to him by a gentleman of high position and reputation whom he last saw in February or March, 1893, and who had not been in England now for two years, At the time he was introduced to him Taylor was living in College-street. He knew that Taylor had lost a good deal of the money which he had inherited, but that he still had a share in an important business. Taylor was educated at Marl borough School, and was a young man of education and accomplishments. He saw in the newspaper that among the persons arrested in the raid at the house in Fitzroy-square were Taylor and Charles Patker, and he saw that the charge against Taylor and Charles Parker was dismissed. Witness was much distressed about it, and wrote to Taylor. Taylor told him in reply that it was a benefit concert, that he had been given a ticket, that when he arrived at the house dancing was going on, and he was asked to play the piano, that two music-hall singers were expected to come in costume, and that suddenly the police entered and arrested everybody. Knowing that the charge had been dismissed, and hearing how the arrest had happened, witness thought that no blame was attaching to Taylor, and he was very sorry for him. Shelley was in the employment of a firm of publishers, and he was introduced to him by a member of the firm. He met Shelley a few days afterwards on going to the premises of the firm, and talked to him about literature. He found that Shelley had a great deal of taste and a great desire for culture. Shelley was well acquainted with the whole of witness's works, and was very appreciative of them. Witness gave Shelley three of his books. Shelley had dined with witness and Mrs. Wilde at Tite-street. Shelley was in every way a gentleman.

The Court adjourned for luncheon at 1 30 and reassembled again at 2 o'clock. Mr. Oscar Wilde did not put in an appearance until 8 minutes after 2, and on doing so expressed his apologies to the Court for his late arrival. It was due, he said, to the clock of the hotel where he had been lunching being wrong.

SIR EDWARD CLARKE, continuing his re-examination, questioned the witness as to certain letters. Witness said that the letters produced were the handwriting of Edward Shelley. Upon hearing the contents of the plea in this case witness searched for and found the letters. Sir Edward Clarke then read the letters referred to. In March, 1893, Edward Shelley had left the employment of Messrs. Mathews and Lane, and was very anxious to get another situation. He wrote subsequently asking witness for £10. Witness lent him or gave him £5 about that time. He wrote other letters asking witness to help him to get employment. In one of these letters the writer referred to the deadly enemies which the witness had in London, as was evidenced by the Daily News article. In reply to a question from counsel, witness said that this was an article not quite appreciating the poem "The Sphinx." (Laughter.) There was never any relation between witness and Edward Shelley other than that which might legitimately exist between a man of letters and a person who admired his poems and works. With reference to the Worthing incident, witness said that he had taken a furnished house at Worthing at the time and had been staying there with his family. The latter left Worthing after a time and witness remained on. The lad named Conway was known to witness's family, and had been to his house to tea. He was not in employment at the time when witness met him. He never heard that Conway had been a newspaper boy or that he had had any connexion with journalism. (Laughter.) The boy had an intense desire to go to sea in the merchant service as an apprentice. He used to go out fishing, sailing, and bathing with witness, his son, and his son's friends. He had never seen Conway since then. He had written one letter to him, he thought in November last, in reference to his becoming an apprentice in the merchant service. Witness had consulted a friend who had many ships, and wrote to Conway and told him the result of his inquiries. With respect to the young men introduced to witness by or through Alfred Taylor, they had been his guests with one or two exceptions. With regard to Atkins, he was introduced to witness by the gentleman whose name had not been mentioned. When these persons were introduced to him he had no reason to suspect that they were immoral or disreputable persons, nor had he since unless it was in the ease of Charles Parker, who was arrested and and the charge against whom had been dismissed by the magistrate. Apart from that there had never been any thing at all to bring to his mind the idea that these people were disreputable persons. He had never seen Charles Parker at the Savoy Hotel. The reason why he did not take steps against Lord Queensberry earlier was that very strong pressure had been put upon him by Lord Queensberry's family not to do so. On the Wednesday following the Saturday on which Lord Queensberry's visit occurred witness had an interview with a member of the Queensberry family, who was also a member of Parliament.

Mr. CARSON read the following postcard, addressed by Lord A. Douglas to Lord Queensberry:--

"As you return my letters unopened, I am obliged to write on a postcard. I write to inform you that I treat your absurd threats with absolute indifference. Ever since your 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 Cafe Royal, &c., and I shall continue to go to any of these places whenever I choose and with 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 right over me, either legal or moral. If O.W. was to prosecute you in the criminal Courts for libel 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 if he shoots you, we should be completely justified, as we should be acting in self-defence against a violent and dangerous rouge, and. I think if you were dead not many people would miss you.--A. D."

In reply to questions from the jury, witness said that he had never seen the editor of the Chameleon at the time that he wrote to witness from Oxford and asked him to contribute to the magazine. He subsequently saw him, he thought in the month of November, in a friend's rooms. He had written to him to say that he had really nothing to give him at all. He afterwards said he could give him some aphorisms out of his plays. The Chameleon was not for private circulation.

Sir. E. CLARKE said that only 100 copies were to be printed, but so far as those 100 copies would go the magazine would be for public circulation.

A juryman.--Were you aware of the nature of this article, "The Priest and the Acolyte"? Witness.-- In no way whatever. It came as a terrible shock.

SIR E. CLARKE intimated that this concluded the evidence for the prosecution, and

Mr. CARSON then rose to make his opening speech for the defence. He said that is appearing in that case for Lord Queensberry he could not but feel that a very grave responsibility rested upon him. So far as Lord Queensberry was concerned, in any act he had done, in any letter he had written, or in the matter of the card which had put him in his present position, he withdrew nothing. He had done what he had done premeditatingly, and he was determined at all risks and all hazards to try to save his son. Whether Lord Queensberry was right or whether he was wrong they had probably now to some extent information upon which they could found a judgment. He must say for Lord Queensberry, notwithstanding the many elements of prejudice which his learned friend (Sir E. Clarke) thought fit to introduce into the case in his opening speech, that Lord Queensberry's conduct in this respect had been absolutely consistent all through; and if the facts which he stated in his letter as to Mr. Wilde's reputation and acts were correct, then not only was he justified in doing what he could to cut short what would moat probably prove a most disastrous acquaintance for his son, but in taking every step which suggested itself to him to bring about an inquiry into the acts and doings of Mr. Wilde. It was said that the names of eminent persons, distinguished persons, had been introduced into Lord Queensberry's letters. Hs was very glad that those letters had been read, and he thought Sir Edward Clarke took a very proper course in having those letters read, because they proved that those names were introduced in a way which bad absolutely no connexion with the charges made in the letters against Mr. Oscar Wilde. Those names were introduced in relation to purely political matters arising out of the fact that one of Lord Queensberry's sons was made a member of the House of Lords while Lord Queensberry himself was not a member of that House, and, rightly or wrongly, he felt aggrieved in consequence. Mr. Carson then proceeded to review the facts connected with Lord Queensberry's acquaintance with Mr. Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas's friendship with the same person. These facts have already been published. He commented strongly on Mr. Wilde's friendship with the various young men whose names have come up in the course of the trial, and asked why Taylor, who was the pivot of the whole case, had not been put in the box. With regard to the Chameleon, he pointed out that Mr. Oscar Wilde did not publish any condemnation of the article which he thought objectionable, he only complained about it to the editor, and he only complained of its being inartistic, and not of its being immoral or blasphemous. All that he said was that he did not approve of it from the literary point of view. There was exactly the same idea in the objectionable article in the Chameleon as was contained in the letters to Lord Alfred Douglas, and the same idea was to be found in Lord Alfred Douglas's poem, "Two Loves," which was published in the Chameleon. The same idea, again, was to be found in "Dorian Grey" as was contained in the letters to Lord Alfred Douglas, and counsel read passages from the book in support of this statement. Counsel referred to the introduction of Mr. Beerbohm Tree's name into the trial, and said that he had received a cable that morning from Mr. Tree in which he gave substantially the same account of the incident of the letter as that which Mr. Wilde had given in the box on the previous day. He (Mr. Carson) desired to say that he considered that Mr. Tree's conduct in the matter had been perfectly right.

Mr. JUSTICE COLLINS.--There is not the slightest ground for making any statement whatever against Mr. Tree's action. It was in the most perfect propriety.

Mr. CARSON, proceeding, referred to the letter from Mr. Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas--which Mr. Wilde had described as a prose sonnet--and read it again to the Court. Ho said that Mr. Wilde described it as beautiful. He (counsel) called it an abominable piece of disgusting immorality.

Counsel had not concluded his speech when the Court adjourned.

At the Central Criminal Court yesterday, before Mr. Justice Collins, "John Sholto Douglas, Marquis of Queensberry," surrendered to his bail to answer an indictment charging him with "maliciously writing and publishing a false and defamatory libel of and concerning Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde."

Sir Edward Clarke, Q.C., Mr. C. Mathews, and Mr. Travers Humphreys appeared for the prosecution; Mr. Carson, Q.C., Mr. C. F. Gill, and Mr. A. Gill for the defence; and Mr. Besley, Q.C., and Mr. Monckton watched the case on behalf of Lord Drumlanrig, the eldest son of the defendant.

In answer to the formal indictment, which was read by the Clerk of Arraigns, Lord Queensberry pleaded not guilty, adding that his statement was true, and that its publication was for the public benefit.

Sir E. Clarke, in opening the case for the prosecution, said that the libel complained of was published on an ordinary visiting-card, and was left with the porter of the Albemarle Club, of which Mr. Wilde and his wife were members. It was a matter of serious moment to a gentleman of high reputation that a libel of this kind should be published respecting him, as it was calculated to gravely affect his character and position, and such action as that of Lord Queensberry could only be justified on the ground that it was absolutely true. The matter did not stop at the question whether the defendant committed the wrongful act under strong but mistaken feelings, for by the plea which he had put before the Court a much graver issue was raised. He said that his statement was true, and that it was made for the public benefit, and he furnished particulars of matters which he alleged bore out that statement. With regard to the earlier plea, which dealt with names and dates and places, it was for those who had undertaken the grave responsibility of formulating the allegations to satisfy the Jury, if they could, by means of credible witnesses that the allegations were true. Mr. Wilde, after a distinguished career at Dublin University and Magdalen College, Oxford, devoted himself to literature on its artistic side; and had written poems, many essays, and some years ago became a very public person indeed—laughed at by some and appreciated by many people—as representing a special and particular aspect of artistic literature. In the year 1884 he had the happy fortune to marry the daughter of the late Horace Lloyd, Q.C., and from that time to the present he had lived with his wife in Tite-street, Chelsea, where two sons had been born to them, and where he and his wife had been in the habit of receiving their many friends. Among those friends were Lord Alfred Douglas, who was introduced to him in the year 1801, and his brothers and Lady Queensberry, their mother. He had visited Lady Queensberry at her own home, and he and Lord Alfred Douglas had met at various places in London, as well as at Cromer, Worthing, and other places in the country. Until 1892 Mr. Wilde did not know the defendant at all, with the exception of having once met him casually in 1881, but in November, 1892, while Mr. Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas were lunching at the Café Royal, Lord Queensberry entered the room. Mr. Wilde was aware that there had been differences between the father and the son, and suggested to Lord Alfred that the opportunity was a good one for bringing about a reconciliation. Lord Alfred acted on the suggestion, shook hands with his father, and introduced him to Mr. Wilde, Lord Queensberry recalling the fact that some years previously they had met at a friend's house. Lord Queensberry partook of luncheon with him, remained in conversation for some time after Lord Alfred had left, and expressed hope that they should meet again at Torquay. In the early part of 1894 Mr. Wilde became aware that certain statements affecting his character were being circulated, and subsequently a man named Wood brought him some letters which Mr. Wilde had written to Lord Alfred Douglas, and for which he asked to be paid. Mr. Wilde gave him £15 or £20 to enable him to go to America, and received from him some letters of no importance. The play "A Woman of No Importance" was being prepared at the time for Mr. Tree's theatre, and there came into that gentleman's hands a document purporting to be a copy of a letter by Mr. Wilde, which had apparently been retained by the persons concerned in the matter. That was sent by Mr. Tree to Mr. Wilde, and shortly afterwards a man named Allen called upon Mr. Wilde, and said that he had the original of that letter, which he wanted Mr. Wilde to buy. That, however, Mr. Wilde absolutely refused to do, saying, "I have got a copy of the letter, and the original is of no use to me. I look upon it as a work of art, but as you have been good enough to send me a copy I do not want the original." He thereupon gave Allen a sovereign, or something of that kind, and sent him away. Shortly afterwards a man named Clyburn brought Mr. Wilde the original of the letter, which, he said, Allen had sent to him, as he appreciated his kindness, and Mr. Wilde gave Clyburn a sovereign also. Mr. Wilde was anxious about this particular letter because it was supposed to be of an incriminating character, and copies of it had been circulated with a view to damaging his character. Mr. Wilde, however, looked upon it as a sort of prose sonnet, and he told Allen that in all probability it would appear in sonnet form. It did so appear as a matter of fact, being published on the 4th of May, 1894, in the Spirit Lamp—an aesthetic, literary, and critical magazine—edited by Lord Alfred Douglas. On the first page was a sonnet in French, described as "A letter written in prose poetry by Oscar Wilde to a friend, and translated into rhymed poetry by a poet of no importance." It was not an exact reproduction, but a paraphrase of the letter, which was as follows:—

"My own dear Boy,— Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red-rose lips of yours should be made no less for music of song than for the 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? 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."

The words of that letter might appear extravagant to those who were in the habit of writing ordinary or commercial correspondence, but Mr. Wilde called it a prose sonnet, and one that he was in no way ashamed of. In the early part of 1894 Lord Queensberry again met Mr. Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas at lunch in the Café Royal, and shortly afterwards Mr. Wilde became aware that the defendant was writing letters that affected his character, and at an interview that took place in Tite-street Mr. Wilde gave instructions in Lord Queensberry's hearing that he was not to be admitted into his house. In February, 1895, another play of Mr. Oscar Wilde's—"The Importance of Being Earnest "—was about to be produced at St. James's Theatre, and information reached the management of certain intentions on the part of Lord Queensberry, who, it was remembered, made some observations in the theatre after the performance of "The Promise of May" by the late Lord Tennyson. With a view to the avoidance of any disturbance on the night of production Lord Queensberry's money was returned to him, and instructions were given that he was not to be ad-mitted. He, however, made several attempts to get into the theatre, bringing with him a bouquet made of vegetables. (Laughter.) On the 28th of February Mr. Wilde went to the Albemarle Club, and there received from the porter the card complained of, which had been left by Lord Queensberry on the 18th of the month. Proceedings were immediately taken, as the libel was direct and did not touch the relationship between Lord Queensberry and his family, and on the 2nd of March the defendant was arrested on a warrant. There were two gross allegations at the end of the plea in relation to a book entitled "The Picture of Dorian Gray" and a magazine called the Chameleon, to which Mr. Wilde contributed "Phrases and Philosophies for the Use of the Young." It was difficult to see why those allegations were made, and he should be surprised if his learned friend could get from them anything hostile to the character of Mr. Wilde. Mr. Wilde was merely a contributor to the magazine, and directly he saw a story in it entitled "The Priest and the Acolyte," which was a disgrace to literature, he wrote to the editor, and upon his insistence the magazine was withdrawn. With regard to "Dorian Gray'' it was a book that had been in circulation for five years. It was a story of a young man of good birth, great wealth, and personal beauty, whose friend painted his picture. Dorian Gray desired to remain as in the picture, which, however, aged with years. His wish was granted, and upon the picture the scars of trouble and bad conduct fell. In the end he stabbed the picture and fell dead. The picture was restored to its pristine beauty, and the friends of Dorian Gray found on the floor the body of a hideous old man. He should be surprised if his learned friend could pitch upon any passage in that book which did more than describe, as novelists and dramatists must describe, the passions and fashions of life. The learned counsel then proceeded to call witnesses.

Sidney Wright, examined by Mr. Mathews, deposed that he was hall porter at the Albemarle Club, of which both Mr. and Mrs. Wilde were members. The defendant on the 18th of February called at the Club and handed him the card produced, upon which he had previously written some words. He asked that it should be given to Oscar Wilde. He (witness) wrote the date on the card and enclosed it in an envelope, which, on the 28th of February, he handed to Mr. Wilde, giving him Lord Queensberry's message at the same time.

Mr. Carson asked no questions.

Mr. Oscar Wilde, examined by Sir E. Clarke, said—I am the prosecutor in this case, and am 39 years of age. My father was Sir William Wilde, surgeon, of Dublin, and Chairman of the Census Commission. He died when I was at Oxford. I was a student at Trinity College, Dublin, where I took a classical scholarship and the Gold Medal for Greek. I then went to Magdalen College, Oxford, where I took a classical scholarship, a first in "Mods," and a first in "Greats," and the Newdigate Prize for English verse. I took my degree in 1878, and came down at once. From that time I have devoted myself to art and literature. In 1882 I published a volume of poems, and afterwards lectured in England and America. I have written many essays of different kinds, and during the last few years have devoted myself to dramatic literature. In 1884 I married Miss Lloyd, and from that date till now have lived with her in Tite-street, Chelsea. I have two sons, the eldest of whom will be 10 in June and the second nine in November.

In 1891 did you make the acquaintance of Lord Alfred Douglas?—Yes, he was brought to my house by a mutual friend. Before then I had not been acquainted with Lady Queensberry, but since then I have, and have been a guest in her house many times. I also knew Lord Douglas of Hawick and the late Lord Drumlanrig. Lord Alfred had dined with me from time to time at my house and at the Albemarle Club, of which my wife is a member, and has stayed with us at Cromer, Goring, Worthing, and Torquay. In November, 1892, I was lunching with him at the Café Royal, where we met Lord Queensberry, and on my suggestion Lord Alfred went to him and shook hands. I was aware that there had been some estrangement between the two. Lord Queensberry joined us, and remained chatting with me until Lord Alfred had left. From the 3rd of November, 1892, till March, 1894, I did not see the defendant, but in 1893 I heard that some letters that I had addressed to Lord Alfred Douglas had come into the hands of certain persons.

Did anyone say that he had found letters of yours?—Yes, a man named Wood saw me and told me that he had found some letters in a suit of clothes that Lord A. Douglas had been good enough to give him.

Did he ask for anything?—l don't think he made a direct demand.

What happened?—When he entered the room he said, "I suppose you will think very badly of me." I replied, "I hear that you have letters of mine to Lord Alfred Douglas, which you ought to have handed back to him." He handed me three or four letters, and said that they were stolen from him the day before yesterday by a man named Allen, and that he had to employ a detective to get them back. I read the letters, and said that I did not think them of any importance. He said, "I am very much afraid of staying in London on account of this man, and I want money to go to America." I asked what better opening as a clerk he could have in America than in England, and he replied that he was anxious to get out of London, in order to escape the man who had taken the letters from him. He also said that he could find nothing to do in London. I gave him £15. The letters remained in my hand all the time.

Did some man eventually come with another letter?—A man called, and told me that the letter was not in his possession. His name was Allen.

What happened at that interview?—I felt that this was the man who wanted money from me, and said, "I suppose you have come about my beautiful letter to Lord A. Douglas. If you had not been so foolish as to send a copy of it to Mr. Beerbohm Tree, I would gladly have paid you a very large sum of money for the letter, as I consider it to be a work of art." He said, "A very curious construction could be put on that letter." I said in reply, "Art is rarely intelligible to the criminal classes." He said, "A man has offered me £60 for it." I said to him, "If you take my advice you will go to that man and sell my letter to him for £60. I myself have never received so large a sum for any prose work of that length; but I am glad to find that there is someone in England who considers a letter of mine worth £60." He was somewhat taken aback by the manner, perhaps, and said, "The man is out of town." I replied, "He is sure to come back," and advised him to get the £60. He then changed his manner, saying that he had not a single penny, and that he had been on many occasions trying to find me. I said that I could not guarantee his cab expenses, but that I would gladly give him half a sovereign. He took the money and went away.

Was anything said about a sonnet?—Yes. I said, "The letter, which is a prose poem, will shortly be published in sonnet form in a delightful magazine, and I will send you a copy of it."

As a matter of fact, the letter was the basis of the French poem that was published in the Spirit Lamp?—Yes.

It is signed "Pierre Louys;" is that the nom de plume of a friend of yours?—A young French poet of great distinction who has lived in England. About six minutes afterwards another man came whose name was Clyburn. He produced the letter from his pocket and said that Allen wanted him to take it. I said, "Why?" He said, "Well, he says you were kind to him, and there is no use in trying to 'rent' you, as you only laugh at us." I looked at the letter, and it was extremely soiled. I said, "I feel it quite unpardonable that better care was not taken of a manuscript of mine." (Laughter.) He said that he was very sorry, but it had been through so many hands. I took the letter; then I said, "Well, I accept the letter back, and you can thank Mr. Allen from me for all the anxiety he has shown about this letter." I gave him half a sovereign for his trouble, and then said, "I am afraid you are leading a wonderfully wicked life." He said, "There is good and bad in every one of us." I told him he was a born philosopher—(laughter)—and he then left.

Has the letter remained in your possession ever since?—Yes. I produce it here to-day.

I pass to the end of 1893. Did Lord Alfred Douglas go to Cairo then?—Yes, in December, 1893.

On his return were you lunching together in the Café Royal when Lord Queensberry came in?—Yes. He shook hands, and joined us, and we were on perfectly friendly terms.

Shortly after that meeting did you become aware that he was making suggestions with regard to your character and behaviour?—Yes. Those suggestions were not contained in letters to me. About the end of June there was an interview between Lord Queensberry and myself in my house. He called upon me, not by appointment, about four o'clock in the afternoon, accompanied by a gentleman with whom I was not acquainted. The interview took place in my library. Lord Queensberry was standing by the window. I walked over to the fire-place, and he said to me, "Sit down." I said to him, "I do not allow anyone to talk like that to me in my house or anywhere else. I suppose you have come to apologise for the statement you made about my wife and myself in a letter you wrote to your son." I said, "I should have the right any day I choose to prosecute you for criminal libel for writing such a letter." He said, "The letter was privileged, as it was written to my son." I said, "How dare you say such things to me about your son and me?" He said, "You were both kicked out of the Savoy Hotel at a moment's notice." I said, "That is a lie. Somebody has been telling you an absurd set of lies about your son and me." He said. "I hear you were well blackmailed for a letter you wrote to my son." I said, "The letter was a beautiful one and I never write except for publication." He said, "If I catch you and my son together again in a public restaurant I will thrash you." I said, "I do not know what Queensberry rules are, but the Oscar Wilde rule is to shoot at sight." I then told Lord Queensberry to leave my house. He said he would not do so. I told him that I would have him put out by the police. He said, "It is a disgusting scandal." I said, "If it be so you are the author of that scandal, and no one else." I then went into the hall and pointed him out to my servant. I said, "This is the Marquis of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London; you are never to allow him to enter my house again." It is not true that I was expelled from the Savoy Hotel at the time. I was at the theatre on the opening night of the play "The Importance of Being Earnest," and was called before the curtain. The play was successful. Lord Queensberry did not obtain admission to the theatre. I was acquainted with the fact that he had brought a bunch of vegetables. I went to the Albemarle Club on the 28th of February, and received from the porter the card which has been produced. I had seen communications from Lord Queensberry, not to his sons, but to a third party. A warrant was issued on the 2nd of March.

It is suggested that you are responsible for the publication of the magazine Chameleon, on the front page of which some aphorisms of yours appear. Beyond sending that contribution had you anything to do with the preparation or the publication of that magazine?—No; nothing whatever.

Did you approve of the story of the "Priest and the Acolyte?"—I think it bad and indecent, and I strongly disapproved of it.

Was that disapproval expressed to the editor?—Yes. The other question relates to the book "Dorian Grey." Was that first published in magazines?—lt was first published in Lippincott's, and afterwards in book form with three additional chapters. It was much reviewed, and is still in circulation.

Your attention has been called to the plea and to the names of persons with whom your conduct is impugned. Is there any truth in these allegations?—There is no truth whatever in any one of them.

Cross-examined by Mr. Carson—You stated that your age was 39. I think you are over 40. You were born on October 16, 1854?—I had no wish to pose as being young.

That makes you more than 40?—Ah!

In reply to further questions, the prosecutor said:—Lord Alfred Douglas is about 24, and was between 20 and 21 years of age when I first knew him. Down to the interview in Tite-street Lord Queensberry had been friendly. I did not receive a letter on April 3 in which Lord Queensberry desired that my acquaintance with his son should cease. After the interview I had no doubt that such was Lord Queensberry's desire. Notwithstanding Lord Queensberry's protest my intimacy with Lord A. Douglas continues to the present moment. I have stayed with him at Oxford, Brighton, Worthing, Cromer, and Torquay, and at hotels in Albemarle-street and Dover-street; also at the Savoy. I never took rooms for him. I had rooms in St. Jaines's-place from October, 1893, to the end of March, 1894, and Lord Alfred has stayed in those rooms. I have been abroad with him several times; even lately to Monte Carlo. There were contributions by Lord Alfred Douglas in the Chameleon, and I thought that they were exceedingly beautiful poems. I saw no improper suggestion in them.

You have read "The Priest and the Acolyte?"—Yes.

You have no doubt whatever that was an improper story?—From the literary point of view it was highly improper. It is impossible for a man of literature to judge it otherwise, by literature meaning treatment, selection of subject, and the like. I thought the treatment and the subject rotten.

You are of opinion there is no such thing as an immoral book?—Yes.

May I take it that you think "The Priest and the Acolyte " was not immoral?—lt was worse, it was badly written. (Laughter.)

In further cross-examination, the witness at first said that he did not think the story blasphemous, but on being reminded that when the priest administered poison to the boy he used the words of the Sacrament, he said he thought it was horrible—blasphemous was not the word. He strongly objected to the whole story, but took no steps to express disapproval of the Chameleon because it would have been beneath his dignity as a man of letters to associate himself with an Oxford undergraduate's productions. He did not believe that any book or work of art ever had any effect on morality. He had no "pose" in the matter. In writing a play or a book he was concerned entirely with literature—that was with Art. He did not aim at doing good or evil but at trying to make a thing that would have some quality of beauty.

Here is one of the "Phrases and Philosophies for the Use of the Young": "Wickedness is a myth invented by good people to account for the curious attractiveness of others." You think that true?—I rarely think that anything I write is true.

Did you say rarely?—I said rarely. I might have said never; not true in the actual sense of the word.

"Religions die when they are proved to be true." Is that true?—Yes, I hold that. It is a suggestion towards a philosophy of the absorption of religions by science, but it is too big a question to go into now.

Do you think that was a safe axiom to put forward for the philosophy of the young?—Most stimulating. (Laughter.)

"If one tells the truth one is sure, sooner or later, to be found out."—That is a pleasing paradox, but I do not set very high store on it as an axiom.

Is it good for the young?—Anything is good that stimulates thought in whatever age.

Whether moral or immoral?—There is no such thing as morality or immorality in thought. There is immoral emotion.

"Pleasure is the only thing one should live for."—I think that the realisation of oneself is the prime aim of life, and to realise oneself through pleasure is finer than to do so through pain. I am on that point entirely on the side of the ancients—the Greeks.

"A truth ceases to be true when more than one person believes it?"—Perfectly. That would be my metaphysical definition of truth; something so personal that the same truth could never be appreciated by two minds.

"The condition of perfection is idleness?"—Oh, yes, I think so. Half of it is true. The life of contemplation is the highest life.

"There is something tragic about the enormous number of young men there are in England at the present moment who start life with perfect profiles and end by adopting some useful profession."—I should think that the young have enough sense of humour.

You think that is humorous?—I think it is an amusing paradox.

What would anybody say would be the effect of "Phrases and Philosophies" taken in connection with such an article as "The Priest and the Acolyte?"—Undoubtedly it was the idea that might be formed that made me object so strongly to the story. I saw at once that maxims that were perfectly nonsensical, paradoxical, or anything you like, might be read in conjunction with it.

After the criticisms that were passed on "Dorian Grey" was it mollified a good deal? —No. Additions were made. In one case it was pointed out to me—not in a newspaper or anything of that sort, but by the only critic of the century whose opinion I set high, Mr. Walter Pater—that a certain passage was liable to misconstruction, and I made one addition.

This is your introduction to " Dorian Grey ":—"There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written or badly written."—That expresses my view on art.

I take it that, no matter how immoral a book may be, if it is well written it is, in your opinion, a good book?—If it were well written, so as to produce a sense of beauty, which is the highest sense of which a human being can be capable. If it was badly written it would produce a sense of disgust.

Then a well-written book putting forward certain views may be a good book?—No work of art ever puts forward views. Views belong to people who are not artists. Con- tinuing, witness said that the views of illiterates on art were unaccountable. He was only concerned with his view of art, and did not care twopence what other people thought of it. He was afraid that the majority of people were not cultivated enough to live up to the position he was giving—not cultivated enough to draw a distinction between a good and a bad book. The extract read by counsel from "Dorian Grey" he considered to be the most perfect description possible of what an artist would feel on meeting a beautiful personality which was in some way necessary to his art and life. With regard to another extract, he thought it described the influence produced on an artist by a beautiful personality. He had never allowed any personality to dominate his heart.

Then you have never known the feeling you described?—No, it is a work of fiction.

So far as you are concerned, you have no experience as to its being a natural feeling?—I think it is perfectly natural for any artist to intensely admire and love a young man. It is an incident in the life of almost every artist.

But let us go over it phrase by phrase. "I quite admit that I adored you madly." Have you ever adored a young man madly?—No, not madly. I prefer a love that is higher.

Never mind about that. Let us keep down to the level we are at now.—I have never given adoration to anybody except myself.(Laughter.)

I am sure you think that a very smart thing?—Not at all. Then you have never had that feeling?—No, it was borrowed from Shakespeare, I regret to say; yes, from Shakespeare's sonnets.

"I have adored you extravagantly." Do you mean financially?—Oh, yes, financially.

Do you think we are talking about finance?—I don't know what you are talking about.

Don't you. Well, I hope I shall make myself very plain before I have done. "I was jealous of everyone to whom you spoke." Have you ever been jealous?—Never in my life.

"I want you all to myself." Did you ever have that feeling?—I should consider it an intense nuisance—an intense bore.

"I grew afraid that the world would know of my idolatry." Why should he grow afraid that the world should know of it?—Because there are people in the world who cannot understand the intense devotion, affection, and admiration that an artist can feel for a wonderful and beautiful personality. These are the conditions under which we live. I regret them.

These unfortunate people that have not the high understanding that you have might put it down to be something wrong?—Undoubtedly. To any point they choose. I am not concerned with the ignorance of others. In reference to another passage in "Dorian Gray," in which he receives a book, Mr. Wilde declined to be cross-examined upon the work of another artist. It was, he said, an impertinence and a vulgarity. He did not think there was any bad influence in the world, or that one person influenced another.

As to the letter beginning "My own Boy," addressed to Lord Alfred Douglas, the witness said that it was a poem. It was not an ordinary letter. It was a beautiful letter. He had always been fond of the young man, though he could not say that he adored him. A man who was not an artist could not have written that letter. A great deal depended on the way in which the quotations were read. He never wrote to any other young man in the same way.

Here is another letter which I believe you also wrote to Lord Alfred Douglas. Will you read it?—No, I decline; I don't see why I should.

Then I will:—"Savoy Hotel, Thames-embankment, W.O.—Dearest of all boys,— Your letter was delightful, red and yellow wine to me, but I am sad and out of sorts. You must not make scenes with me. They kill me, they wreck the loveliness of like. I cannot see you, so Greek and gracious, distorted with passion. I cannot listen to your young lips saying hideous things to me. I would sooner"—here a word is undecipherable, but I will ask the witness—" than have you bitter, unjust, hating. I must see you soon. You are the divine thing I want, the thing of grace and genius, but I don't know how to do it. Shall I come to Salisbury? There are many difficulties. My bill here is £49 for a week. (Laughter.) I have also got a new sitting-room. But why is it you are not here, my dear, my wonderful boy? I fear I must leave; no money, no credit, only a heart of lead.—Ever your own Oscar." Is that an ordinary letter?—Everything I write is extraordinary. I do not pose as being ordinary. (Laughter.)

Have you got his letter in reply?—I do not recollect what letter it was.

It was not a beautiful letter?—I do not remember the letter. You describe it as "delightful red and yellow wine to you?"—Oh, of course, a beautiful letter, certainly.

What would you pay for that beautiful letter?—I could not get a copy.

How much would you give if you could get a copy?—Oh, I do not know.

Was this one of yours a beautiful letter?—Yes; it was a tender expression of my great admiration for Lord Alfred Douglas. It was not like the other—a prose poem—but it was a beautiful letter.

In further cross-examination the witness said that he met Wood at the end of January, 1893. Lord Alfred Douglas asked him to do what he could for Wood, who was seeking a post as clerk. He knew also a man named Taylor, and had been to tea parties at his house. He had given Wood supper because he was asked to be kind to him, but had never taken him to his house. He thought that Wood came to levy blackmail when he brought the letters to him, and he gave him £20 to go to America because of his pitiful tale. Wood used to call him "Oscar," and he called Wood "Alfred." Allen, he was told, was also a blackmailer. He gave him 10s. out of contempt. He was acquainted with a young man named Shelley, who was a great admirer of his works. He had given him money and presents to help him, as he was poor. There was a lad named Alphonse Conway whose acquaintance he had also made, and in whom he took some interest when at Worthing. The lad had assisted him with his boat there, and he gave him some presents and took him for a trip to Brighton on one occasion. He was a bright, simple, agreeable lad. He did not remember any other youth whom he took about in the same way.

At this point the further hearing was adjourned to this morning, Lord Queensberry being liberated on the same bail as before.