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Original paragraph in
Taranaki Herald - Saturday, April 13, 1895
Taranaki Herald - Saturday, April 13, 1895
Most similar paragraph from
The Star - Saturday, April 13, 1895
The Star - Saturday, April 13, 1895
Difference
London, April 12.—Very damaging evidence has been adduced against Oscar Wilde and Taylor, who have been further remanded.
Very damaging evidence was adduced against Oscar Wilde and Taylor, who have been further remanded.
It has been discovered that the police have been watching the pair for some time.
It has been discovered that the police have been watching the pair for some time past.
REMINISCENCES OF HIM AND HIS FAMILY.
From some personal recollections of Oscar Wilde which appeared recently in an English journal, the Auckland Herald gives a few
side-lights about him and his family, which may be worth noting just now. There is no doubt about his being Irish, born and bred. He is quite as Irish as
T. P. O'Connor; and if he still kept his second name of O'Flahertie—which is entered in the Oxford Calender,—it would be a constant testimony to his
Celtic origin. His father, Sir William Robert Wilde, the eminent Dublin oculist, who was knighted by the Lord-Lieutenant for his services in connection
with the Irish census, was a native of the west of Ireland. After he became celebrated he bought a place in Galway-Moytura, in the midst of wild and
romantic scenery. Amongst Sir William Wilde's many contributions to Irish antiquities and folklore is a book on Lough Corrib, full of valuable
information, mostly gleaned on the spot.
It is from his mother, however, that Oscar inherits his brilliance, his poetic gifts, and his taste for paradox and epigram. Lady Wilde
is a daughter of Arch-deacon Elgee, an Irish clergyman with a strain of Italian blood. Lady Wilde's second name, Francesca, shows that the family was of
Italian extraction, and her striking appearance—large dark eyes and amount of colour in dress and decoration—quite bears out this theory. She is closely
related on her mother's side to the Maturin family—French Huguenots who settled in Dublin after 1688. Everyone has heard of the Rev. Charles Maturin, the
"brilliant and eccentric Maturin," principally known from a gruesome tragedy of his called "Bertram,' which was produced at Drury Lane in May, 1816, and
ran for 22 nights, bringing in the author £1000. Whenever Maturin wished to be left undisturbed he was in the habit of pasting a black wafer on his
forehead, to show that he was in the agonies of composition.
Jane Francesca Elgee showed remarkable gifts for acquiring languages and early began to spout poetry. Under the name of Speranza, she
wrote hundreds of poems of a pronounced Nationalistic type, and also contributed largely to the Nation. When there was talk of a leader to the Young Irish
party, the writer of these glowing articles was suggested by those who did not know that they were written by a woman. One of the strongest of Lady
Wilde's poems is "A Million a Decade?" After her marriage with Sir William Wilde, her splendid house at Merrion-square became the meeting-place for all
sorts and conditions of men—political leaders, actors, poets, and journalists. It was like a Paris salon at a Dublin house. Father Healy's humorous face
was often seen there. W. J. Fitzpatrick, the biographer of Lever, melancholy and aristocratic, Professor Mahaffy, observant and cynical, were constant
visitors. Dr. Tisdall sometimes recited with a fun all his own; and there was talk, stimulating and brilliant, in which Lady Wilde took a leading part.
One of her great gifts is l'art de faire un salon.
Oscar Wilde had a striking University career. At Trinity College, Dublin, he gained a scholarship and carried off the Berkeley gold
medal. At Oxford he gained the Newdigate prize for English verse, and took a first-class. After this he travelled in Greece with Professor Mahaffy. After
her husband's death Lady Wilde came to London, and settled at Oakley-street, Chelsea, with her eldest son. Here she still lives; but, alas! her popular
Saturday receptions no longer are held. They used to be quite a feature of society. Even in summer there was demijour, the blinds were pulled down, the
curtains were drawn, red shaded lamps were lit, and Lady Wilde glided about with soft white tulle lippets hanging about her still handsome face, and a
long train of rich silk or satin sweeping the ground. No one was ever moped or bored at her house. She never forgot anyone; she was always tactful,
prompt, and full of resource. "Every lady in the room has written a book," she used to observe, and she generally remembered the name of it. The The
American twang and the Irish brogue met together; there were French and Russians – editors and essayists; John Strange Winter, Mrs Fenwick Miller, Mr H.
D. Traill, and Lady Hardy and her daughter Iza Duffus Hardy, were often to be seen. There was, of course, great fluttering of the dovecotes when Oscar
Wilde appeared. At the first glamour (says the writer from whom we quote) of his wonderful smile, the susceptible ones gave in and were ready to join the
army of love-sick maidens in "Patience." Once he came out in a pink shirt and yellow buttonhole, and shed a radiance over the room. His talk is like his
plays—epigrammatic and full of point. His mother and he seem to stimulate one another.