The Evening News - Thursday, April 25, 1895

TWO PICTURES.
The Sale at Tite-street—The Cell at Holloway.

Oscar Wilde’s belongings at 16, Tite-street, Chelsea, were sold by auction yesterday by order of the sheriff, acting upon three writs representing somewhere about £400. The creditors enforcing the proceedings claimed principally for cigarettes and cigarette cases. There was a great gathering at the house at the time fixed for the commencement of the sale, many people not being in possession of the fact that the major part of the furniture and effects had been removed under the right of Mrs. Wilde. Brokers were in great force, anxious to secure the books, prints, pictures, and Moorish china to be disposed of ; but there were also a large number of curiously minded persons who made their way all over the premises WITH A MORBID VIEW of seeing something that belonged to a man under trial of the Old Bailey. Oscar Wilde’s bedroom was the chief point of attraction. It is a little apartment—dingy, one might call it, with furniture about fitted to a servant’s room; but over the entrance, on the inside, was inscribed, in elongated type-written characters, these lines:

"Spirit of Beauty, tarry yet awhile;
They are not dead, thine ancient votaries;
Some few there are to whom thy radiant smile
Is better than a thousand victories."

The curiosity of this musical inscription is that the letter "o" in each word where it occurs is made a very small circle. Above the inscription referred to there were arranged a series of sunflowers in glowing gilt: above them, in painted arrangement, a series of flaming "aureoles." In a chest of drawers in this bedroom—which, by the way, was lighted by a curious copper lamp of Oriental design—lay a choice selection of Oscar Wilde’s MSS., said to include a yet unproduced play. There were also many letters in this drawer, and for a time people sported with them, until restrained by the auctioneer’s subordinate. Some strange information, however, had in the meantime been gathered. A singular book had been incidentally picked—"Le Latin Mystique"—and was being devoured by those who understood French. In a little alcove, just round by the end of OSCAR’S HUMBLE BEDSTEAD, was heaped a pile of correspondence, and some of the more inquisitive roaming about the promises looked into it. There was some remarkable letters in that pile. The sale took place in what is called the drawing-room—a small room, in which Oscar wilde’s full-length portrait, in gilt frame, loomed very large. The place was crowded to suffocation, buyers being largely in evidence.

Books were taken first. They were a miscellaneous lot, and, it may be said, fetched more than they were worth. A parcel of "Dorian Grey" and Oscar Wilde’s poems realised £2 2s. ; a bundle of MSS. (really type-written) brought £5 15s.; and a parcel of books containing three copies of "Salome," bound in silk, "The Spirit Lamp," and Wilde’s poems, were knocked down for £4 15s. For a copy of "The Happy Princess; and Other Tales" (of which only 75 copies were printed), three copies of "The Sphinx," bound in vallum, two large-paper copies of "Lady Windermere’s Fan," two copies of "Salome," and one of "A Woman of No Importance," ALL SOLD IN A BUNDLE, £8 5s. Was taken. Five copies of "Dorian Grey" fetched £3 3s. Thirteen volumes of the Parnell Commission were among the things found in the Wilde library. Oscar’s life-length portrait went for £14; singular to say, the same sum bought Carlyle’s writing-desk—a wondrous piece of mechanism in furniture, which there is little doubt is destined for America. A crayon drawing of a nude female, by Whistler, fetched £21; and another portrait sketch, on brown paper, by the same artist, realised £15. The Arundel prints made fair prices, but the old blue china and Moorish poetry did not excite connoisseurs to high bidding.

AT HOLLOWAY.

The present quarters occupied by Oscar Wilde are in strange and terrible contrast to the luxurious home he had so long called his own.

There is a great difference between Tite-street and a prison cell. For, however much the place may be improved and, so to speak, beautified, it is still a prison cell, neither more nor less. But by the tender mercies of the authorities the cell is furnished—indeed, it is called by courtesy a "furnished room." That is to say, it contains an iron bedstead of the kind known as a hospital bed; one mattress is allowed him, a pillow, clean sheets, rags of the yellow colour so well known in prisons, no pillow case—but that the prisoner is allowed to supply at his own cost. A pretty counterpane of blue-and-white checks covers the bed when it is made.

The rest of the furniture consists of a small square table covered with a green baize cloth : a washhandstand with white crockeryware and the monogram of Her Majesty’s prisons; a looking-glass and one chair; no carpet on the floor; in one corner another fixed table under the screened gaslight, and on this are arranged the few table utensils, knife, fork, and spoon (at meal time), plate, cup, and saucer.

But the one window is strongly barred, the cell door is heavily loaded with iron; in the centre is the small spy-hole—what the French call a Judas—by means of which the warders on duty outside can closely watch and observe the occupant at all times. On one side of the gaslight is a small handle projecting; this is the bell-pull of the communicator, by means of which the person in custody, and deprived of all freedom of movement, can call attention or summon assistance if required.

APPLICATION AGAINST QUEENSBERRY.

The Exchange Telegraph Company states that an application for a summons against the Marquis of Queensberry was made on Tuesday in private to the presiding magistrate at Marlborough-street, on behalf of Lord Douglas of Hawick, for threats contained in a letter written by Lord Queensberry. The application was dismissed.

A FATAL WILDE JOKE

A dock labourer named John Goodman, living in a common lodging-house in Brick-lane, while laughing in the Crown public-house, Commercial-street, on Tuesday night, at a joke in connection with the Wilde case, suddenly fell down and expired.