Belfast News-Letter - Thursday, April 4, 1895

London, Wednesday.—The Marquis of Queensberry surrendered to his bail to-day at the Central Criminal Count, London, indicted for publishing a defamatory libel on Oscar Wilde, by addressing to him a postcard at the Albemarle Club. There was a crowded attendance of the public.

On taking his place in the dock, Lord Queensberry answered the indictment by pleading first "not guilty," and, secondly, that the libel was true, and was published for the public benefit.

Sir E. Clarke, in opening for the prosecution, said that a very grave issue had been raised, because the defendant in the pleadings alleged that the plaintiff had for some time solicited persons named to commit indecent offences. Certain letters addressed by the plaintiff to Lord A. Douglas were brought to him by a man who said he was in distress, and Mr. Wilde gave him £15 or £20 to pay his passage to America. Another letter came to plaintiff through Mr. Tree, the actor. It was handed to that gentleman, who in turn gave it to plaintiff. It was couched in extravagant terms, but it did not bear the suggestion made in this case. Coming to Lord Queensberry's action, the learned counsel said the jury might have doubts whether defendant was responsible for his actions. Plaintiff was examined by Sir Edward Clarke at length on the subject of the letters, which, he said, he did not regard as important. He described a stormy interview in his own house with Lord Queenberry, who accused him of a nameless offence. He told defendant he did not know what the Queensberry rules were, but the Oscar Wilde rule was to shoot at sight. In ordering defendant out of the house he described him as the most infamous brute in London. There was no foundation for the suggestions in the pleadings.

Cross-examined by Mr. Carson—You stated that your age was thirty-nine? I think you are over forty. You were born on October 16, 1854? I had no wish to pose as being young.That makes you more than forty? Ah.

In reply to further questions, the prosecutor said—Lord Alfred Douglas is about twenty-four, and was between twenty and twenty-one 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.You have stayed with him at many places? Yes.At Oxford, Brighton? On several occasions.Worthing? Yes.You never took rooms for him? No.Were you at other places with him? Cromer, Torquay.And in various hotels in London? Yes. One in Albemarle Street and in Dover Street and at the Savoy.Did you ever take rooms yourself in addition to your house in Tite Street? Yes: at 10 and 11, St. James's Place. I kept the rooms from the month of October, 1893, to the end of March, 1894. Lord Douglas stayed in those chambers, which were not far from Piccadilly. I bad been abroad with him several times, and even lately to Monte Carlo. With reference to those books, it was not at Brighton, in 20, King's Road, that I wrote my article in the "Chameleon." I observed that there were also contributions from Lord A. Douglas, but these were not written at Brighton. I had seen them. I thought them exceedingly beautiful poems. One was in "Praise of Shame;" the other "Two Loves." One spoke of his love—boy and girl love—as true love, and other boys' love as shame.Did you see in that any improper suggestion? None whatever.You 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.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? It was worse; it was badly written. (Laughter.)

Mr. Carson was proceeding to examine as to the contents of the story, when Sir Edward Clarke objected, but His Lordship held that Mr. Carson had a perfect right to examine as to the reasons for the witness's disapproval of the book.

Mr. Carson asked if the story was not that of a priest who fell in love with a boy who served him on the altar, and who was discovered by the rector in the priest's room, and a scandal arose.

The Witness—I have only read it once, in last November, and nothing will induce me to read it again.Do you think the story blasphemous? I think it violated every artistic canon of beauty.That is not an answer? It is the only one I can give.I want to see the position you pose as? I do not think you should use that.I have said nothing out of th way. I wish to know whether you thought the story blasphemous? The storv filled me with disgust.Answer the question, sir. Did you or did you not consider the story blasphemous? I did not consider the story blaspnemous.I am satisfied with that. You know that when the priest in the story administers poison to the boy he uses the words of the sacrament of the Church of England? That I entirely forget.Do you consider that blasphemous? I think it is horrible; blasphemous is not the word.

Mr. Carson was again proceeding to examine in passages in the story, when Sir E. Clarke objected, but Mr. Carson's course was upheld by his Lordship.

Mr. Carson read the words describing the administration of the poison in the sacrament and tlie death scene on the altar, and asked Mr. Wilde did he disapprove of them.

The Witness—I think them disgusting and perfect twaddle.I think you will admit that anyone who would approve of such an article would pose as guilty of certain practices? I do not think so in the person of another contributor to the magazine. It would show very bad literary taste. I strongly object to the whole story. I took no steps to express disapproval of the Chameleon because I think it would have been beneath my dignity as a man of letters to associate myself with an Oxford undergraduate's productions. I am aware that the magazine might have been circulated among the undergraduates of Oxford. I do not believe that any book or work of art ever had any effect on morality whatever.Am I right in-saying that you do not consider the effect in creating morality or immorality. Certainly I do not.So far as your work is concerned you pose as not being concerned about morality or immorality? I do not know whether you use the word "pose" in any particular sense.It is a favourite word of your own. Is it? I have no pose in this matter. In writing a play or a book, or anything, I am concerned entirely with literature—that is with art. I am not doing good or evil, but in trying to make a thing that will have some quality of beauty.Listen, sir, here is one of the "phases and philosophies for the use of the young"—"Wickedness is a myth invented by good people to account for the curious attractiveness of others." Yon 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 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 cut." 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 tbat 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 modified a good deal? No; additions were made.

Mr. Carson read the description of the artist's feelings on first meeting "Dorian Grey," and in reply to a question Mr. Wilde said—I think this is the most perfect description possible of what an artist would feel on meeting a beautiful personality.You mean a beautiful person? Yes, a beautiful young man, if you like.Having read another passage, Mr. Carson asked—Do you mean to say that that describes the natural feelings of one man towards another? It describes the influence produced on an artist by a beautiful personality.A person? I said personality. You can describe it as you like. Answering another question, witness said he did not think the feeling described was a natural or a moral feeling, but the work was a work of fiction.The book speaks of adoration for the youth Dorian. Have you experienced that? I have never given adoration to anybody but myself. (Laughter.)I dare say you think tbat is very smart? Not at all.

Asked a further question, Mr. Wilde exclaimed, "I do not know what you are talking about," to which counsel retorted, "Well, I hope I shall make myself very plain before I am done."Do you sympathise with, "I want to have you all to myself?" I should consider it an intense bore.

Replying to a question of Mr. Carson, witness said, "There is no such thing as bad influence in the world."A man never corrupts a youth? I think not. Nothing could do it. It is quite impossible psychologically.

Turning to the personal letter written by witness to Lord A. Douglas counsel asked, "Was that an ordinary letter? Witness—Certainly not. An ordinary letter? No.Do you mean to tell me that this was a natural and proper way to address a young man? You are criticising a poem. If you ask me whether it is proper, you might as well ask me whether "King Lear" is proper, or a sonnet of Shakespeare proper.But apart from art? I can't answer any question apart from art. A man who was not an artist could never have written that letter. He could not use the language I used unless he was a man of letters and an artist.Was that the ordinary way in which you carried on your correspondence with Lord A. Douglas? One could not write a letter like that every day. It would be like writing a poem every day. Yon couldn't do it.Do you write to other persons in the same way? Oh, never.Have you written other letters in the same style as this? I do not repeat myself in style.Well, here is another letter written by you to Lord Alfred from the Savoy Hotel—"Dearest of all boys, your letter was delightful red and yellow wine to me, but I am sad and out of sorts. Boysey, you must not make scenes with me. They kill me: they wreck the loveliness of life. I cannot see yon so, Greek and gracious, distorted with passion. I cannot listen 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 the divine thing I want, the thing I grace, but I don't know how to do it. Shall I come to Salisbury? My bill here is £49 for a week. (Laughter.) Why is it you are not here, my dear, my wonderful boy? I fear I must have no money, no credit. Your own Oscar."

Mr. Carson—Is that an extraordinary letter? I think everything I write extraordinary. I do not pose as being ordinary. Good heavens—

Mr. Carson—When did the man named Wood first come to you about the letters which he had found in Lord A. Douglas' coat? An appointment was made through Mr. A. Taylor.Before you brought about the appointment through Taylor did you get Sir G. Lewis to write a letter to Wood? Yes.Did Wood refuse to go to Sir George Lewis? I do not know.He did not go? No.Then you made an appointment to meet Taylor? Yes.Were you anxious about these letters? I should think so. What private gentleman wants his private correspondence made public?

Answering further questions, Mr. Wilde said he met Wood at the Cafe Royal at Lord A. Douglas's request. He frequently went to 13, Little College Street, and had tea there sometimes.Mr. Carson—I think they were all young men at those tea parties? No, not all.They were all men? Yes.Did you dine at the Florence Restaurant, in Regent Street, with Wood? No, I have never dined with him. I asked him whether he had any dinner or supper, and I ordered some.What was Wood? As far as I can make out he was looking for some situation. He told me he had had a clerkship.What was his age at that time? I should think about twenty-three or twenty-four.Do I understand, that the very first day you saw Wood you took him round to the Florence Restaurant? Yes.Was Taylor also present? There was no one else present.

In reply to further questions, witness emphatically denied having any unlawful relations with Wood.

As to the letters which Wood brought to witness, they were, said witness, "letters of no importance." The £15 he gave him was to pay his passage to New York, and witness gave him £5 more the next day.Do you suggest to the jury that this was done out of charity? It is hardly for me to make suggestions to the jury.Did you have a champagne lunch with him before he left for America? Yes.With the man you thought wanted to blackmail you? Yes.

Answering further questions, witness said Wood called him "Oscar." Almost everybody called him by his Christian name. Continuing, witness said Allen, who brought him the "prose poem," was a notorious blackmailer. He gave him 10s out of contempt. That was one of the best ways to show contempt.I suppose he was pleased with your contempt? He was apparently pleased with my kindness. Clyborn, said witness, was another blackmailer for whom he showed contempt.Mr. Carson—With the exception of your letter that was found out was any other one turned into a sonnet? I should require to read a great deal of modern poetry before I could answer that question. (Laughter.)

Counsel then proceeded to put questions with regard to the "office boy" of witness's publishers. Mr. Wilde denied that the lad was the office boy, and said he was an assistant. He was not good-looking, but he had an intellectual face. He had dined with witness at the Albemarle Hotel.For the purpose of having an intellectual treat? Well—for him—yes. (Laughter.)

Cross-examination continued—He became acquainted with a boy named Alfonzo Conway at Worthing, who was abont eighteen years of age, but had no occupation. He denied having any unlawful relations with him. He had given him a cigarette case, with the incription, "Alfonso, from his friend, Oscar Wilde." He had also given this boy his photograph, a book, and a walking stick. He took him to Brighton, and gave him a new suit of clothes and a straw hat.

Mr. Carson—You dressed him up in order that he might look something more like your equal. I did it in order that he might not be ashamed of his shabby clothes.

The case was adjourned until to-morrow.

The World - Wednesday, April 3, 1895

LONDON, April 3. -- Every available inch of the Old Bailey was occupied this morning when the Marquis of Queensberry surrendered to bail, and the libel suit brought by Oscar Wilde against the Marquis was opened before Justice Collins.

Oscar Wilde, or, to give him his full name, Oscar Fingall O'Flaherty Wilde, the author and dramatist, charges the Marquis of Queensberry with libel by leaving on Feb. 28 last an uncovered card at the Albemarle Club, on which card were written certain foul epithets.

As a result, Mr. Wilde, on March 2, caused the arrest of the Marquis of Queensberry, and the latter, at the Marlborough Street Police Court, was released on £1,500 bail.

The Marquis of Queensberry, who wore a shabby overcoat, was placed in the dock and answered to the indictment by pleading, first, not guilty and, secondly, that the libel was true and that it was published for the public good.

The Marquis seemed quite unconcerned, and replying to the questions put to him he spoke quietly and clearly.

Reviewing the Facts.

Sir Edward Clarke, formerly Solicitor-General, in opening the case said that the card left at the Albemarle Club for Mr. Wilde was one of the visiting cards of the Marquis of Queensberry, and it was upon this that the libel was written. Continuing, counsel said that the gravest issues had been raised, as the defendant, in his pleadings, alleged that the plaintiff had for some time solicited persons named to commit indecent offenses.

Certain letters addressed by the plaintiff to Lord Alfred Douglas, second son of the Marquis of Queensberry, were brought to plaintiff by a man who said he was in distress, and Mr. Wilde gave him 20 with which to pay his passage to America. Another letter was handed to Mr. Beerbohm Tree, the actor, who gave it to the plaintiff.

Counsel then recounted the facts already known in the case, showing that Mr. Wilde, who had recently returned from Algiers, drove up to the Albemarle Club at about 5 P. M. on Feb. 28, and on entering the Club he was handed an envelope by the hall porter, Sidney Wright, who said that the Marquis of Queensberry had desired him to hand it to Mr. Wilde. The exact words were:

"Lord Queensberry desired me, sir, to hand this to you when you came into the Club."

Inside the envelope plaintiff found a (Continued on Sixth Page.)

OSCAR WILD'S QUEER WAYS. (Continued from First Page.)

card, on the back of which was the date 4:30, 18, 2, '95, and on this card was written certain foul epithets, which formed the basis of the suit.

Wilde Takes the Stand.

Oscar Wilde was then called. He languidly arose from the solicitors' table, at which he had been seated, and entered the witness-box. The plaintiff was faultlessly dressed in a long black frock coat, and carried his gloves in his hands, showing his fingers to be covered with rings. He was very pale, but was seemingly composed.

Wilde spoke with his customary drawl, leaning his arm upon the rail of the witness-box and replying distinctly to the questions addressed to him.

The jury, which was composed of very intelligent men of elderly appearance, mainly prosperous tradesmen, eyed him with curiosity.

The witness said that upon arriving at his house a few months ago he found two gentlemen waiting in the library. One of them was the Marquis of Queensberry and the other one was unknown to the plaintiff. The former said:

"'Sit down, Lord Queensberry,' I replied: 'I will not allow any one to talk that way in my house. I suppose you have come to apologize. Is it possible that you accuse your son and me of an unnatural crime?"

"He replied: 'I don't say it; but you look like it and appear like it.'"

Counsel for the plaintiff then asked Wilde about the man to whom he had given £20 with which to pay his passage to America. Witness said:

"The man told me he had been offered £60 for the letter, and I advised him to immediately accept it. But, finally, I gave him the money in order to relieve his distress and he gave me the letter."

Oscar's Endearing Terms.

The letter which Mr. Wilde had written to Lord Alfred Douglas was read, as follows:

My Dear Boy: Your sonnet is quite lovely. Your rose-leaf lips seem made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kisses. Your slim, gilt soul walks between poetry and passion. I know that Hyacinthus, who was loved by Apollo, was you in the Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you sleep in the gray twilight of Gothic things? Come here whenever you like, but go to Salisbury first.

Counsel in explaining this letter said that it might seem extravagant to those who were in the habit of writing commercial letters, but, he added, it was mere poetry.

Mr. Carson began the presentation of the case for the Marquis, by reading passages from "Dorian Gray," one of Oscar Wilde's novels of modern life, to show that the author held peculiar notions, the plaintiff following counsel with a copy of the book and laughing at Mr. Carson's insinuations. Mr. Carson asked:

"Do you think that the description of "Dorian Gray," given on page 6, is a moral one?" ' Yes," replied Wilde, "Just what an artist would notice in a beautiful personality." "Did you ever adore madly, as described in 'Dorian Gray,' any person of the male sex younger than yourself?" was Mr. Carson's next question. In reply Wide said: "I took the idea from Shakespeare's sonnets."

Later, Wilde testified to the fact that the man to whom he gave £20, was named Wood.

Replying to other questions put to him by Mr. Carson, Wilde said that the letter to Lord Alfred was "merely poetical" and he added that he had "undying love" for Lord Alfred, who, he claimed, was his best friend. The witness denied having misconducted himself with Wood. The latter, he added, was introduced to him, the witness, by Lord Alfred Douglas, who asked him to befriend the man. Wilde and Wood, it was also shown by the cross-examination, addressed each other by their Christian names.

Immorality Concerned Him Not.

It was also developed during the cross-examination of Wilde that in writing he did not concern himself to produce morality or immorality. He had no purpose in the matter, and was concerned merely with literature, beauty, wit and emotion. He rarely thought if anything he wrote was true. Indeed, he might say never in regard to "Dorian Gray."

The cross-examination was very severe, and brought out the great difference in the ages of Oscar Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas (the former was born in 1856 and the latter in 1870), how the two had visited various towns together, stopped at the Savoy Hotel together, and how Lord Alfred visited Wilde's chambers in St. James's place, which the plaintiff maintains in addition to his house at 16 Tite street, S.W.

Mr. Carson then drew out Wilde's opinions regarding literature in general, to which line of cross-examination the plaintiff made smart responses in the same line as his plays.

"The interpretation of my works does not concern me," said Wilde. "I do not care 'tuppence' for what the Philistines think about me."

But Mr. Carson severely repressed the levity of the witness, and began the more serious phase of tho cross-examination by questioning Wilde about his friendship with a newsboy eighteen years of age.

"Why did you seek the boy's society?" asked Mr. Carson. "Was it for an intellectual treat?" "Oh, he was a bright, careless, amusing creature," replied the witness.

Mr. Carson here produced a silver cigarette cape, a handsome silver-mounted cane and a book which Wilde admitted he had presented to the newsboy referred to.

The cross-examination then touched upon Wilde's relations with various persons and the question put to the witness were so pointed as to be unprintable.

Wilde, however, emphatically denied that he had done anything improper; but he was troubled and confused under the terrible cross-examination he was subjected to, and frequently drank water. In fact, he seemed ready to faint and a chair was placed inside the witness stand for his use.

Throughout the questioning of the plaintiff, the Marquis of Queensberry stood facing him and did not take his eyes off the man in the witness box.

Tho cross-examination of Wilde was not finished when the Court adjourned for the day at 5 P.M.

A large crowd of people assembled about the Old Bailey in order to see Wilde leave the court.

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