The Australasian - Saturday, May 11, 1895
This report was originally published in English. Machine translations may be available in other languages.
SOCIAL GOSSIP.
VANITY FAIR.
By J.M.D.
LONDON, APRIL 5.
The action for libel brought by Oscar Wilde against the Marquis of Queensberry - probably the most hideous scandal of modern times - has been polluting the well-seasoned interior of the Central Criminal Court at the Old Bailey and rendering the daily papers unreadable for young persons. The nature of the cross-examination made one wonder how the London newspapers could manage to report it at all. Most of them have solved the difficulty by giving the whole evidence verbatim. The St. James's Gazette, to its credit, refuses point blank to publish the case, thus foregoing the enormous circulation which the others are getting. Little Sidney Low has, I think, proved himself shrewder than his rival editors; but probably routine and lack of initiative are the reasons why the respectable dailies have not kept their columns clear to-day of nameless details. Probably one result of Wilde versus Queensberry will be legislation empowering judges to forbid the reporting of certain cases - already the law in some colonies, I fancy. Another good result will be the smash-up of the whole clique of decadent poets, novelists, artists, and dramatists which have been grouped about Oscar and his set. One of the publishers of the scrofulous "Yellow Book" seems, from the evidence at the Old Bailey, to have introduced Oscar to a member of his staff. Dr. Max Nordau must be a proud and happy man just now, for "the strange case of Oscar Wilde" illustrates that evolution of the decadent spirit in literature and art which Nordau describes in his famous book. What Carson's cross-examination has displayed at the Old Bailey is no more than the logical development of the "literature of sex," of yellow twins, heavenly asters, women who did, keynotes, the notes and all the rest of it. The heroes of these "brave" works of fiction, the "ideal" poets and artists admired by members of the Pioneer Club, are simply adepts of the peculiar sect to which Oscar Wilde belongs.
Why Oscar ever brought this action or went into the witness-box is a puzzle. He has evidently lived for a couple of years haunted by blackmailers and in daily dread of exposure. On Monday night he was in the greenroom at the St. James's Theatre, crying like a child. Of late he has been terribly hard up, constantly dunning George Alexander and others for money on account of his plays. This is not surprising, for he had to keep up a large expensive house in Tite-street for Mrs. Oscar - lived at the Savoy, at the rate of £50 a week. He had chambers elsewhere, besides, he admits, having constantly made large presents of money to objects of his charity and sympathy. Probably if he had had means he would have bolted to the Continent before the case came on. Day and Russell, Lord Queensberry's solicitors, have already placed copies of their documents and evidence before the Public Prosecutor. An indictment under what is known to lawyers as "Labouchere's clause" of the Criminal Amendment Act of 1886 would so far appear to be feasible. But that act does not set up an extraditable offence.
Oscar's two plays are still kept on the bills at the Haymarket and the St. James's. For a few days people deserted the two theatres, but since the case began the public are flocking there from sheer "curiosity." Mrs. Oscar is a good deal to be pitied, although she can hardly have been entirely blind to what was going on. She is a charming woman - a bit affected perhaps, and not very bright. Whatever happens she will have her own income, £600 a year, left to her by her father, Horace Lloyd, a County Court judge. That miserable young scapegrace, Lord Alfred Douglas, inherits dubious moral proclivities. His mother, who divorced the Marquis of Queensberry, was daughter of Alfred Montgomery, a famous old beau and bon vivant, illegitimate son of the Marquis Wellesley. Most of the persons concerned in the great action have odd ancestors.
Nothing finer than Edward Carson's cross-examination of Oscar has been seen in the courts since Coleridge's handling of the Tichborne "claimant." The rapid rise and marvellous success of Carson at the bar is like what one reads in a novel with a barrister for hero. He got a splendid advertisement as Crown prosecutor under the late Government in the coercion era, his name becoming very familiar to the public, while the work he had to do was the best possible legal training. The almost simultaneous retirement from practice of Lockwood, Lord Russell, and Sir "Rob" Reid was most fortunate for Carson also; he, indeed, has virtually "stepped into" Lockwood's and Russell's positions already, and, at 43 years of age, bids fair to be "leader" of the English bar before long. His first great brief was in a sense a political or anti-Radical one, on behalf of the Evening News and Post, sued for libel by a low class demagogue, Havelock Wilson, M.P. Carson's masterly exposure of Wilson and his "Seamen's and Firemen's Union" made his reputation. I am told that there are a dozen barristers at the Irish bar quite as capable as Mr. Carson and earning on an average £l50 a year. It has been so for centuries.
Mrs Wilde is a good deal to be pitied, although she can hardly have been entirely blind to what was going on. She is a charming woman—a bit affected, perhaps, and not very bright. Whatever happens she will have her own income, £600 a year, left to her by her father, Horace Lloyd, a County Court judge. That miserable young scapegrace, Lord Alfred Douglas, inherits dubious moral proclivities. His mother, who divorced the Marquis of Queensberry, was the daughter of Alfred Montgomery, a famous old beau and bon vivant, illegitimate son of the Marquis Wellesley. Most of the persons concerned in the great action have odd ancestors. Nothing finer than Mr Edward Carson's cross-examination of Oscar has been seen in the courts since Coleridge's handling of the Tichborne claimant. The rapid rise and marvellous success of Carson at the Bar is like what one reads in a novel with a barrister for hero. He got a splendid advertisement as Crown Prosecutor under the late Government in the coercion era, his name becoming very familiar to the public, while the work he had to do was the best possible legal training. The almost simultaneous retirement from practice of Frank Lockwood, Lord Russell, and Sir "Bob" Reid was most fortunate for Carson also; he indeed has virtually stepped into Lockwood's and Russell's position already, and at forty-three years of age bids fair to be leader of the English Bar before long. His first great brief was in a sense a political or anti-Radical one, on behalf of the 'Evening News' and "Post,' sued for libel by a low-class demagogue—Havelock Wilson, M.P. Carson's masterly exposure of Wilson and his Seamen and Firemen's Union made his reputation. I am told that there are a dozen barristers at the Irish Bar quite as capable as Mr Carson, and earning on an average £150 a year. It has been so for centuries.
Mrs Wilde is a good deal to be pitied, although she can hardly have been entirely blind to what was going on. She is a charming woman—a bit affected, perhaps, and not very bright. Whatever happens she will have her own income, £600 a year, left to her by her father, Horace Lloyd, a County Court judge. That miserable young scapegrace, Lord Alfred Douglas, inherits dubious moral proclivities. His mother, who divorced the Marquis of Queensberry, was the daughter of Alfred Montgomery, a famous beau and bon vivant, illegitimate son of the Marquis Wellesley. Most of the person concerned in the great action have odd ancestors. Nothing finer than Mr Edward Carson's cross-examination of Oscar has been seen in the courts since Coleridge's handling of the Tichborne claimant. The rapid rise and marvellous success of Carson at the Bar is like what one reads in a novel with a barrister for a hero. He got a splendid advertisement as Crown Prosecutor under the late Government in the coercion era, his name becoming very familiar to the public, while the work he had to do was the best possible legal training. The almost simultaneous retirement from practice of Frank Lockwood, Lord Russell, and Sir "Bob" Reid was most fortunate for Carson also; he indeed has virtually stepped into Lockwood's and Russell's position already, and at forty-three years of age bids fair to be the leader of the English Bar before long. His first great brief was in a sense a political or anti-Radical one, on behalf of the Evening News and Post, sued for libel by a low-class demagogue—Havelock Wilson, M.P. Carson's masterly exposure of Wilson and his Seamen and Firemen's Union made his reputation. I am told that there are a dozen barristers at the Irish Bar quite as capable as Mr Carson, and earning on an average £150 a year. It has been so for centuries.
Mrs Wilde is a good deal to be pitied, although she can hardly have been entirely blind to what was going on. She is a charming woman—a bit affected, perhaps, and not very bright. Whatever happens she will have her own income, £600 a year, left to her by her father, Horace Lloyd, a County Court judge. That miserable young scapegrace, Lord Alfred Douglas, inherits dubious moral proclivities. His mother, who divorced the Marquis of Queensberry, was the daughter of Alfred Montgomery, a famous old beau and bon vivant, illegitimate son of the Marquis Wellesley. Most of the persons concerned in the great action have odd ancestors. Nothing finer than Edward Carson's cross-examination of Oscar has been seen in the courts since Coleridge's handling of the Tichborne claimant. The rapid rise and marvellous success of Carson at the Bar is like what one reads in a novel with a barrister for a hero. He got a splendid advertisement as Crown Prosecutor under the late Government in the coercion era, his name becoming very familiar to the public, while the work he had to do was the best possible legal training. The almost simultaneous retirement from practice of Frank Lockwood, Lord Russell, and Sir "Bob" Reid was most fortunate for Carson also; indeed he has virtually stepped into Lockwood's and Russel's position already, and at forty-three years of age bids fair to be leader of the English Bar before long. His first great brief was in a sense a political or anti-Radical one, on behalf of the 'Evening News' and 'Post,' sued for libel by a low-class demagogue—Havelock Wilson, M.P. Carson's masterly exposure of Wilson and his Seamen and Firemen's Union made his reputation. I am told that there are a dozen barristers at the Irish Bar quite as capable as Mr Carson, and earning on an average £150 a year. It has been so for centuries.
Oscar Wilde's eclipse and disappearance, although deserved, will be a loss to the amusable world, in which he had undoubtedly made a name. A distinct blotch of genius - true genius - was discernible in him. There is the authentic story of his looking at his wife, nursing their eldest boy in her arms, and saying, "Now, for the first time, I can understand how the figure of the Madonna and the Child has kept the fiction of Christianity alive for two thousand years." His epigrams were a trick, but often bright enough.
Oscar Wilde's eclipse and disappearance, although deserved, will be a loss to the amusable world, in which he had undoubtedly made a name. A distinct blotch of genius—true genius was discernible in him. There is the authentic story of his looking at his wife, nursing their eldest boy in her arms, and saying "Now for the first time I can understand how the figure of the Madonna and the Child has kept the fiction of Christianity alive for two thousand years." His epigrams were a trick, but often bright enough.—Argus Correspondent.
Oscar Wilde's eclipse and disappearance, although deserved, will be a loss to the amusable world, in which he had undoubtedly made a name. A distinct blotch of genius—true genius—was discernible in him. There is the authentic story of his looking at his wife, nursing their eldest boy in her arms, and saying: "Now for the first time I can understand how the figure of the Madonna and the Child has kept the fiction of Christianity alive for two thousand years." His epigrams were a trick, but often bright enough.—Argus Correspondent.
Oscar Wilde's eclipse and disappearance, although deserved, will be a loss to the amusable world, in which he had undoubtedly made a name. A distinct blotch of genius—true genius—was discernible in him. There is the authentic story of his looking at his wife, nursing their eldest boy in her arms, and saying: "Now for the first time I can understand how the figure of the Madonna and the Child has kept the fiction of Christianity alive for two thousand years." His epigrams were a trick, but often bright enough.—'Argus' Correspondent.
Oscar Wilde's eclipse and disappearance, although deserved, will be a loss to the amusable world, in which he had undoubtedly made a name. A distinct blotch of genius—true genius—was discernible in him. There is the authentic story of his looking at his wife, nursing their eldest boy in her arms, and saying: "Now for the first time I can understand how the figure of the Madonna and the Child has kept the fiction of Christianity alive for two thousand years." His epigrams were a trick, but often bright enough.—'Argus' Correspondent.
Oscar Wilde's eclipse and disappearance, although deserved, will be a loss to the amusable world, in which he had undoubtedly made a name. A distinct blotch of genius—true genius—was discernible in him. there is the authentic story of his looking at his wife, nursing their eldest boy in her arms, and saying, "Now for the first time I can understand how the figure of the Madonna and the Child has kept the fiction of Christianity alive for two thousand years." His epigrams were a trick, but often bright enough.—Argus correspondent.
Undoubtedly all this ghastly business will spread a kind of mildew over Bohemian and artistic society in London. Jim Whistler, they say, will be pleased at the fall of his old friend and recent enemy. Whistler himself has met with a cruel rebuff from the French judges, who condemned him to return the portrait of Lady Eden as well as the cheque given for it, and to pay heavy damages. There is some talk of an appeal. Meanwhile it has transpired that Mr. Whistler is 60 years of age. This is the age at which generals and prominent civil servants have to retire, and George Moore, who innocently intervened in the Eden case, has just declined to fight a duel with Whistler on the ground that the challenger is "too old a gentleman." The challenge and the procès verbal drawn up, and Whistler's seconds, two unknown French artists, adds the last touch of ridicule to the affair. It is quite possible, indeed, that the quarrel and challenge are part of an advertising comedy deliberately arranged beforehand.