The Hawke's Bay Herald - Saturday, May 25, 1895
This report was originally published in English. Machine translations may be available in other languages.
THE OSCAR WILDE SCANDAL.
Of course the "fashionable sensation" of the week (writes the London correspondent of the Otago Daily Times), has been the trial of Lord Queensberry on the charge of criminally libelling Mr Oscar Wilde. "A person named Oscar Wilde" was how the judge in charging the grand jury, specified this celebrated (or notorious) personage. It will be remembered that Lord Queensberry left at Mr Wilde's club a card on which were written words which virtually accused Mr Wilde of a vile crime, and that on the fact coming to his knowledge the latter caused the Marquis to be arrested forthwith for criminal libel. He was committed for trial, and the grand jury found a true bill against him. The trial is now proceeding.
Of course the "fashionable sensation" of the week has been the trial of Lord Queensberry on the charge of criminally libelling Mr Oscar Wilde. "A person named Oscar Wilde" was how the judge, in charging the grand jury, specified this celebrated (or notorious) personage. It will be remembered that Lord Queensberry left at Mr Wilde's club a card on which was written words that virtually accused Mr Wilde of a vile crime, and that on the fact of coming to his knowledge the latter caused the Marquis to be arrested forthwith for criminal libel. He was committed for trial, and the grand jury found a true bill against him. The trial is now proceeding.
Yesterday the Daily Chronicle reported the proceedings to the extent of five solid columns, the Telegraph gave four and a-half, the Daily News and Daily Graphic each two columns. Permit me here, figuratively, to uplift my hands in utter amazement that respectable journals should have allowed their columns to be defiled by floods of filthy allusions and revolting innuendo which flows through the whole evidence in this disgusting case. To me it seems most deplorable and discreditable that such loathsome garbage should be reported in respectable journals which are presumably fit for family perusal. One need not be a purist or a prude to be genuinely and intensely shocked that such an experience should have been possible. One evening paper, the St. James's Gazette, to its great and abiding credit be it said, resisted the temptation to wallow in this filth, and refused to report the case at all beyond a mere statement of the plain facts much as they are set forth above. The St. James's expresses its conviction that most cleanly-minded people will be glad "That there is at least one London newspaper to-day which can be read without a shudder by persons of ordinary decent feeling, which need not be excluded from a household where there are women and young girls, which can be permitted to lie on the drawing-room table without offence, and which can be taken into the family circle without apprehension." An earnest appeal is made by the same paper for the hearing of such cases in camera. It admits the temptation under which newspapers lie to publish sensation matter, and argues that they should be protected from themselves and their readers from them by the court having the power to forbid the publication of indecent evidence. It is terrible to think of inquisitive boys and girls reading this morning's papers.
Yesterday the Daily Chronicle reported the proceedings to the extend of five solid columns, the Telegraph gave four and a-half, the Standard three and a-half, the Times and Morning Post each two and a-half, the Daily News and Daily Graphic each two columns. Permit me here, figuratively, to uplift my hands in utter amazement that respectable journals should have allowed their columns to be defiled by floods of filthy allusions and revolting innuendo which flows through the whole evidence in this disgusting case. To me it seems most deplorable and discreditable that such loathsome garbage should be reported in respectable journals which are presumably fit for family perusal. One need not be a purist or a prude to be genuinely and intensely shocked that such an experience should have been possible. One evening paper, the St. James's Gazette, to its great and abiding credit be it said, resisted the temptation to wallow in this filth, and refused to report the case at all beyond a mere statement of the plain facts, much as they are set forth above. The St. James's expresses its conviction that most cleanly-minded people will be glad "that there is at least one London newspaper to-day which can be read without a shudder by persons of ordinary decent feeling, which need not be excluded from a household where there are women and young girls, which can be permitted to lie on the drawing room table without offence, and which can be taken into the family circle without apprehension." An earnest appeal is made by the same paper for the hearing of such cases in camera. It admits the temptation under which newspapers lie to publish sensational matter, and argues that they should be protected from themselves and their readers from them by the court having the power to forbid the publication of indecent evidence. It is terrible to think of inquisitive boys and girls reading this morning's papers.
What makes the whole thing even more offensive than it is per se is the unblushing way in which Mr Wilde utilises the case as an advertisement of himself and his wares. I wonder the judge tolerated the flippancies and impertinencies and irrelevancies with which he "showed off" to an admiring audience. He had evidently been at work for weeks "mugging up" smart sayings and quips and paradoxes with which to astonish his hearers. Some of them are worth quoting, if only to show how far sheer impudence may be carried by a witness in a court of law.
What makes the whole trial even more offensive than it is per se is the unblushing way in which Mr Wilde utilises the case as an advertisement of himself and his wares. I wonder the judge tolerated the flippances and impertinencies and irrelevancies with which he "showed off" to an admiring audience. He had evidently been at work for weeks "mugging up" smart sayings and quips and paradoxes with which to astonish his hearers. Some of them are worth quoting, if only to show how far sheer impudence may be carried by a witness in a court of law.
What makes the whole thing even more off offensive that it is per se is the unblushing way in which Mr Wilde utilises the case as an advertisement of himself and his wares. I wonder the judge tolerated the flippancies and impertinencies and irrelevancies with which he "showed off" to an admiring audience. He had evidently been at work for weeks "mugging up" smart sayings and quips and paradoxes with which to astonish his hearers. Some of them are worth quoting, if only to show how far sheer impudence may be carried by a witness in a court of law.
Mr Wilde, by the way, confessed to 39 years of age, but in cross-examination admitted to being born in 1854. Asked if a certain book was immoral, he replied—"it is worse, it is badly written." Mr Wilde holds that "wickedness is a myth invented by good people," that "religions die when they are proved to be true," that "if one tells the truth one is sure, sooner or later, to be found out." This last is characterised as "a pleasing paradox." "Anything," said Mr Wilde, "is good that stimulates thought. . . . There is no such thing as morality and immorality in thought. . . . Pleasure is the only thing that one should live for, nothing ages like happiness. . . . (another pleasing paradox!) and to realise oneself through pleasure is finer than to do so through pain. . . . A truth ceases to be a truth when more than one person believes it"—"that," said Oscar "would be my metaphysical definition of truth, something so personal that the same truth could never be appreciated by two minds."
Mr Wilde, by the way, confessed to 39 years of age, but in cross-examination admitted to being born in 1854. Asked if a certain book was immoral, he replied—"It is worse, it is badly written." Mr Wilde holds that "wickedness is a myth invented by good people," that "religions die when they are proved to be true," that "if one tells the truth one is sure, sooner or later, to be found out." This last is characterised as "a pleasing paradox." "Anything," said Mr Wilde, "is good that stimulates thought. . . . There is no such thing as morality in immorality in though. . . . Pleasure is the only thing one should live for, nothing ages like happiness. . . . (another pleasing paradox!) and to realise oneself through pleasure is finer than to do so through pain. . . . A truth ceases to be true when more than one person believes it"—"that," said Oscar, "would be my metaphysical definition of truth, something so personal that the same truth could never be appreciated by two minds."
Mr Wilde, by the way, confessed to 39 years of age, but in cross-examination admitted to being born in 1854. Asked if a certain book was immoral, he replied, "It is worse, it is badly written." Mr Wilde holds that "wickedness is a myth invented by good people," that "religions die when they are proved to be true" that "if one tells the truth one is rue, sooner or later, to be found out." This last is characterised as "a pleasing paradox." "Anything," said Mr Wilde, "is good that stimulates though. . . . . There is no such thing as morality or immorality in thought. . . . Pleasure is the only thing one should live for, nothing ages like happiness. . . . (another pleasing paradox!) and to realise oneself through pleasure is finer than to do so through pain. . . . A truth ceases to be true when more than one person believes it"—"that," said Oscar, "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" that, Mr Wilde thinks, is at least "half true." He says further "there is something tragic about the enormous number of young men in England who are starting life with perfect profiles and end by adopting some useful profession." This MR Wilde describes as "an amusing paradox." All these sapient aphorisms are from Mr Wilde's "Phrases and Philosophy of the Use of the Young." They were submitted to him in cross-examination for an expression of his matured opinion on their merits. Mr Wilde further stated that the only critic of the century whose opinion he set high was Mr Walter Pater; "That no work of art ever puts forward 'views' of any kind. 'Views' belong to people who are not artists." He held that the tone of his own writings could only be deemed immoral by "brutes and illiterates—the views of the Philistines on art," said Oscar, "are incalculably stupid." He was afraid the majority of people were not cultivated enough to live up to the pose he had given them; but still, he admitted, he had "never discouraged their buying his books." He begged that he might not be cross-examined about "the ignorance of other people," and declared he had "a great passion to civilise the community." He described one of his own letters to a friend as "a beautiful letter." "Was it an ordinary letter?" asked counsel. "Certainly not; I should think not!" replied Mr Wilde, indignantly, amid roars of laughter. "It was a beautiful letter—unique, I should think." "Have you written others of this class?" was next asked. "There is no class in that letter," said Mr Wilde, proudly. "Have you written others like it?" "I don't repeat myself in style," was the lofty reply.
"The condition of perfection is idleness" that, Mr Wilde thinks, is at least "half true." He says further "there is something tragic about the enormous number of young men in England who are starting life with perfect profiles and end by adopting some useful profession." This Mr Wilde describes as "an amusing paradox." All these sapient aphorisms are from Mr Wilde's "Phrases and Philosophy for the Use of the Young." They were submitted to him in cross-examination for an expression of his matured opinion on their merits. Mr Wilde further stated that the only critic of the century whose opinion he set high was Mr Walter Pater: "That no work of art ever puts forward 'views' of any kind. 'Views' belong to people who are not artists." He held that the tone of his own writings could only be deemed immoral by "brutes and the illiterate—the views of the Philistines on art," said Oscar, "are incalculably stupid." He was afraid the majority of people were not cultivated enough to live up to the pose he had given them; but still, he admitted, he had "never discouraged their buying his books." He begged that he might not be cross-examined about "the ignorance of other people," and declared he had "a great passion to civilise the community." He described one of his own letters to a friend as "a beautiful letter." "Was it an ordinary letter?" asked counsel. "Certainly not; I should think not!" replied Mr Wilde, indignantly, amid roars of laughter. "It was a beautiful letter—unique, I should think." "Have you written others of this class?" was next asked. "There is no class in that letter," said Mr Wilde, proudly. "Have you written others like it?" "I don't repeat myself in style" was the lofty reply.
Another letter was read. "Don't you think that is an extraordinary letter?" asked counsel. I think everything I write is extraordinary" answered the modest Oscar. "I don't pose as being ordinary! Great Heavens!!" Several people had attempted to blackmail him, with the result that he gave them money very freely and apparently constituted them his personal friends henceforth, calling them by their Christian names, regaling them at dinner, champagne lunches, $c., and otherwise entertaining them. "Everybody, with few exceptions, calls me by my Christian name," said the poetic Oscar, "and I like calling people by their Christian names." He did not think it "monstrous" that a man with whom he was on such intimate terms should come to blackmail him, so he gave him 10s "to show my contempt for him—to show I didn't care twopence for him!" "Did you call him Alf?" was asked. "No," replied Mr Wilde, solemnly, "I never use abbreviations. I called him Alfred." Being asked whether another passage in one of his writings was proper, Mr Wilde said, "I think it is the most perfect description possible of what an artist would feel." Asked whether he ever had the feeling of admiration for another which one of his heroes expresses, Oscar loftily responded, "I have never given admiration to any person except myself!" He regarded it as "an intellectual treat" to his guests to be allowed to visit him. He did not know their ages because he "did not keep a census." He did not visit them. "It would not interest me to go to see Parker; it would interest Parker to call and see me," said Mr Wilde. "I do not like the sensible and I do not like the old," he remarked, "and I do not care twopence for social position. I recognise no social distinction at all of any kind. I like the society of people much younger than myself. The society of young people is so wonderful. I would talk to a street arab with more pleasure than I would be cross-examined in court." When asked if one visitor discussed literature with him "I would not allow it," said Oscar sternly.
Another letter was read. "Don't you think that is an extraordinary letter?" asked counsel. "I think everything I write is extraordinary" answered the modest Oscar. "I don't pose as being ordinary! Great Heavens!!" Several people had attempted to blackmail him, with the result that he gave them money very freely and apparently constituted them his personal friends henceforward, calling them by their Christian names, regaling them at dinner, champagne lunches, &c., and otherwise entertaining them. "Everybody, with few exceptions, calls me by my Christian name," said the poetic Oscar, "and I like calling people by their Christian names." He did not think it "monstrous" that a man with whom he was on such intimate terms should come to blackmail him, so he gave him 10s "to show my contempt for him—to show I don't care twopence for him!" "Did you call him Alf?" was asked. "No," replied Mr Wilde, solemnly, "I never use abbreviations. I called him Alfred." Being asked whether another passage in one of his writings was proper, Mr Wilde said, "I think it is the most perfect description possible of what an artists would feel." Asked whether he ever had the feeling of admiration for another which one of his heroes expresses, Oscar loftily responded, "I have never given admiration to any person except myself!" He regarded it as "an intellectual treat" to his guests to be allowed to visit him. He did not know their ages because he "did not keep a census." He did not visit them. "It would not interest me to go and see Parker; it would interest Parker to call and see me," said Mr Wilde. "I do not like the sensible and I do not like the old," he remarked, "and I do not care twopence for social position. I recognise no social distinction at all of any kind. I like the society of people much younger than myself. The society of young people is so wonderful. I would talk to a street arab with more pleasure than I would be cross-examined by you in court." When asked if one visitor discussed literature with him "I would not allow it," said Oscar sternly.
These touches are amusing and characteristic of the man. He is emphatically a poseur and phraseur. He lives for notoriety.
These touches are amusing and characteristic of the man. He is emphatically a poseur and phraseur. He lives for notoriety.
These touches are amusing and characteristic of the man. He is emphatically a poseur and phraseur. He lives for notoriety.
Some of the correspondence between Lord Queensberry and his son whom he desired to save from Oscar Wilde's influence is, to say the least, curious. The Marquis wrote commanding him to cease his friendship with Wilde, and remonstrating with him for his idleness and "loafing." To this the dutiful son replied in the following telegram:—"What a funny little man you are!" His father not unnaturally rejoined: "You impertinent young jackanapes, if you give me any of your impertinence I shall give you the thrashing you deserve. My only excuse for you is that you must be crazy."
Some of the correspondence between Lord Queensberry and his son whom he desired to save from Oscar Wilde's influence is, to say the least, curious. The Marquis wrote commanding him to cease his friendship with Wilde, and remonstrating with him for his idleness and "loafing." To this the dutiful son replied in the following telegram:—"What a funny little man you are!" His father not unnaturally rejoined: "You impertinent young jackanapes, if you give me any of your impertinence I shall give you the thrashing you deserve. My only excuse for you is that you must be crazy."
To this the affectionate son responded with the following, written on a postcard:—"As you have returned 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, and I shall continue to go to any of those 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 no right over me, either legal or moral. If O.W. was to prosecute you for libel in the criminal courts, you would get seven years' penal servitude for the 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 I'll shoot you, or if he shoot you, we will be completely justified, as we should by acting in self-defence against a violent and dangerous rough; an di think if you were dead not many people would miss you."
To this the affectionate son responded with the following, written on a postcard:—"As you have returned 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, and I shall continue to go to any of those 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 for libel in the criminal courts, you would get seven years' penal servitude for the 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 I'll shoot you, or if he shoot you we will be completely justified, as we should be acting in self-defence against a violent and dangerous rough; and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you."
Mr. Carson, again cross-examining, read the following post-card, addressed by Lord A. Douglas to Lord Queensberry : — "As you return my letters unopened I am obliged to write on a post-card. 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, tbe 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. Yon 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 rough, and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you. — A. D."
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' Rooms, the Café Royal, &, 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 rough, and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you.
As you returned 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 Café Royal, etc., 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 shall be completely justified, as we should be acting in self-defence against a violent and dangerous rough, and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you. A.D.
"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."
As you return my letters unopened I am obliged to write you 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 Café 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 rough, and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you. A.D.
Mr. Carson, with the permission of the Judge (over-ruling an objection by Sir E. Clarke), 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 Booms, the Café 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 rough, and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you.—A.D."
The following message sent on a postcard by Lord Alfred Douglas to his father, which was read in court during the case, throws light on the relations existing between the pair:— "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' Rooms, the Café 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 rough, and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you.—A.D."
The following message was sent on a post card by Lord Alfred Douglas to his father, which was read in Court during the ease, throws light on the relations existing between the pair—"As you return my letters unopened, I am obliged to write on a post card. 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 Café 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 rough, and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you.—A.D."
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' Rooms, the Café Royal, etc., and I shall continue to go to any of these places whenever I choose and with whom I choose. 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 rough, and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you. A.D.
As you return my letters unopened I am obliged to write a postcard. I write to inform you that I consider your absurd threats with absolute indifference. Ever since your last exhibition at O.W.'s house I have made a point of appearing with him at many public restaurants—such as the Berkeley, Willis' Rooms, the Café Royal, &c., &c.—and I shall continue to go to these places when and with just 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 rights over me, legal or moral. If O.W. was to prosecute you for libel in the criminal courts 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 I 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 rough; and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you. (Signed, A.D.)
As you return my letters unopened I am obliged to write a postcard. I write to inform you that I consider your absurd threats with absolute indifference. Ever since your last 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 Café Royal, &., &. — and I shall continue to go to these places when and with just 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 rights over me, legal or moral. If O.W. was to prosecute you for libel in the criminal courts 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 [O.W.] shoots you, we should be completely justified, as we should be acting in self defence against a violent and dangerous rough; and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you. (Signed, A.D.)
As you return my letters unopened I am obliged to write a postcard. I write to inform you that I consider your absurd threats with absolute indifference. Ever since your last 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 Café Royal, etc., etc.—and I shall continue to go to these places when and with just 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 rights over me, legal or moral. If O.W. was to prosecute you for libel in the criminal courts 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 rough; and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you. (Signed A.D.)
This morning the unexpected happened, and the revolting case suddenly collapsed. When the judge took his seat he was seen to receive, open, and read a letter. The silence was breathless. Expectation was on tiptoe. But nothing happened immediately. Mr Carson proceeded with his speech for the defence. But suddenly he was interrupted. Sir Edward Clarke plucked him by the gown and whispered to him. Mr Carson sat down. Sir Edward Clarke arose and intimated the withdrawl of the prosecution against Lord Queensberry, or, if that were not agreed to, consent to a verdict of not guilty on the ground of justification and publication of the public good. A verdict was returned accordingly.
This morning the unexpected happened, and the revolting case suddenly relapsed. When the judge took his seat he was seen to receive, open, and read a letter. The silence was breathless. Expectation was on tiptoe. But nothing happened immediately. Mr Carson proceeded with his speech for the defence. But suddenly he was interrupted. Sir Edward Clarke plucked him by the gown and whispered to him. Mr Carson sat down. Sir Edward Clarke arose and intimated the withdrawal of the prosecution against Lord Queensberry, or, if that were not agreed to, consent to a verdict of not guilty on the ground of justification and publication for the public good. A verdict was returned accordingly.
Meanwhile Mr Wilde's whereabouts is not definitely known. He was last heard of at the Holborn Viaduct Hotel, where he wrote a letter implying that he withdrew rather than place Lord Alfred Douglas in the box against his father. But the shorthand notes of the case and all the documents have been placed in the hands of the Public Prosecutor. Let us hope we have heard the last of a case which is one of the most shocking society scandals of modern times.
Meanwhile Mr Wilde's whereabouts is not definitely known. He was last heard of at the Holborn Viaduct Hotel, where he wrote a letter implying that he withdrew rather than place Lord Alfred Douglas in the box against his father. But the shorthand notes of the case and all the documents have been placed in the hands of the Public Prosecutor.