alluded to was that between an elder and younger man, as between David and
Jonathan; such love as Plato made the basis of his philosophy; such as was
sung in the sonnets of Shakespeare and Michael Angelo; that deep spiritual
affection that was as pure as it was perfect. It pervaded great works of
art like those of Michael Angelo and Shakespeare. Such as 'passeth the
love of woman.' It was beautiful, it was pure, it was noble, it was
intellectual--this love of an elder man with his experience of life, and
the younger with all the joy and hope of life before him."
The witness made this speech with great emphasis and some signs of
emotion, and there came from the gallery, at its conclusion, a medley of
applause and hisses which his lordship at once ordered to be suppressed.
Mr. GILL.--"I wish to call your attention to the style of your
correspondence with Lord A. Douglas."
WITNESS.--"I am ready. I am never ashamed of the style of any of my
writings."
Mr. GILL.--"You are fortunate--or shall I say shameless? I refer to
passages in two letters in particular."
WITNESS.--"Kindly quote them."
Mr. GILL.--"In letter number one. You use this expression: 'Your slim gilt
soul,' and you refer to Lord Alfred's "rose-leaf lips."
WITNESS.--"The letter is really a sort of prose sonnet in answer to an
acknowledgement of one I had received from Lord Alfred."
Mr. GILL.--"Do you think that an ordinarily-constituted being would
address such expressions to a younger man?"
WITNESS.--"I am not, happily, I think, an ordinarily constituted being."
Mr. GILL.--"It is agreeable to be able to agree with you, Mr. Wilde."
(Laughter).
WITNESS.--"There is, I assure you, nothing in either letter of which I
need be ashamed."
Mr. GILL.--"You have heard the evidence of the lad Charles Parker?"
WITNESS.--"Yes."
Mr. GILL.--"Of Atkins?"
WITNESS.--"Yes."
Mr. GILL.--"Of Shelley?"
WITNESS.--"Yes."
Mr. GILL.--"And these witnesses have, you say, lied throughout?"
WITNESS.--"Their evidence as to my association with them, as to the
dinners taking place and the small presents I gave them, is mostly true.
But there is not a particle of truth in that part of the evidence which
alleged improper behaviour."
Mr. GILL.--"Why did you take up with these youths?"
WITNESS.--"I am a lover of youth." (Laughter).
Mr. GILL.--"You exalt youth as a sort of God?"
WITNESS.--"I like to study the young in everything. There is something
fascinating in youthfulness."
Mr. GILL.--"So you would prefer puppies to dogs, and kittens to cats?"
(Laughter).
WITNESS.--"I think so. I should enjoy, for instance, the society of a
beardless, briefless, barrister quite as much as that of the most
accomplished Q. C." (Loud laughter).
Mr. GILL.--"I hope the former, whom I represent in large numbers, will
appreciate the compliment." (More laughter). "These youths were much
inferior to you in station?"
WITNESS.--"I never enquired, nor did I care, what station they occupied. I
found them, for the most part, bright and entertaining. I found their
conversation a change. It acted as a kind of mental tonic."
Mr. GILL.--"You saw nothing peculiar or suggestive in the arrangement of
Taylor's rooms?"
WITNESS.--"I cannot say that I did. They were Bohemian. That is all. I
have seen stranger rooms."
Mr. GILL.--"You never suspected the relations that might exist between
Taylor and his young friends?"
WITNESS.--"I had no need to suspect anything. Taylor's relations with his
friends appeared to me to be quite normal."
Mr. GILL.--"You have attended to the evidence of the witness Mavor?"
WITNESS.--"I have."
Mr. GILL.--"Is it true or false?"
WITNESS.--"It is mainly true, but false inferences have been drawn from it
as from most of the evidence. Truth may be found, I believe, at the bottom
of a well. It is, apparently difficult to find it in a court of law."
(Laughter.)
Mr. GILL.--"Nevertheless we endeavour to extract it. Did the witness Mavor
write you expressing a wish to break off the acquaintance?"
WITNESS.--"I received a rather unaccountable and impertinent letter from
him for which he afterwards expressed great regret."
Mr. GILL.--"Why should he have written it if your conduct had altogether
been blameless?"
WITNESS.--"I do not profess to be able to explain the motives of most of
the witnesses. Mavor may have been told some falsehood about me. His
father was greatly incensed at his conduct at this time, and, I believe,
attributed his son's erratic courses to his friendship with me. I do not
think Mavor altogether to blame. Pressure was brought to bear upon him
and he was not then quite right in his mind."
Mr. GILL.--"You made handsome presents to these young fellows?"
WITNESS.--"Pardon me, I differ. I gave two or three of them a
cigarette-case. Boys of that class smoke a good deal of cigarettes. I have
a weakness for presenting my acquitances with cigarette-cases."
Mr. GILL.--"Rather an expensive habit if indulged in indiscriminately."
WITNESS.--"Less extravagant than giving jewelled-garters to ladies."
(Laughter).
When a few more unimportant questions had been asked, Wilde left the
witness-box, returning to the dock with the same air of what may be
described as serious easiness. The impression created by his replies was
not, upon the whole, favorable to his cause.
His place was taken by the prisoner Taylor. He said that he was
thirty-three years of age and was educated at Marlborough. When he was
twenty-one he came into L45,000. In a few years he ran through this
fortune, and at about the time he went to Chapel Street, he was made a
bankrupt. The charges made against him of misconduct were entirely
unfounded. He was asked point-blank if he had not been given to sodomy
from his early youth, and if he had not been expelled from a public-school
for being caught in a compromising situation with a small boy in the
lavatory. Taylor was also asked if he had not actually obtained a living
since his bankruptcy by procuring lads and young men for rich gentlemen
whom he knew to be given to this vice. He was also asked if he had not
extracted large sums of money from wealthy men by threatening to accuse
them of immoralities. To all these plain questions he returned in direct
answer, "No."
After the luncheon interval, Sir Edward Clark rose to address the jury in
defence of Oscar Wilde. He began by carefully analysing the evidence. He
declared that the wretches who had come forward to admit their own
disgrace were shameless creatures incapable of one manly thought or one
manly action. They were, without exception, blackmailers. They lived by
luring men to their rooms, generally, on the pretence that a beautiful
girl would be provided for them on their arrival. Once in their clutches,
these victims could only get away by paying a large sum of money unless
they were prepared to face and deny the most disgraceful charges. Innocent
men constantly paid rather than face the odium attached to the breath even
of such scandals. They had, moreover, wives and children, daughters,
maybe or a sister whose honour or name they were obliged to consider.
Therefore they usually submitted to be fleeced and in this way, this
wretched Wood and the abject Atkins had been able to go about the West-end
well-fed and well-dressed. These youths had been introduced to Wilde. They
were pleasant-spoken enough and outwardly decent in their language and
conduct. Wilde was taken in by them and permitted himself to enjoy their
society. He did not defend Wilde for this; he had unquestionably shown
imprudence, but a man of his temperament could not be judged by the
standards of the average individual. These youths had come forward to make
these charges in a conspiracy to ruin his client.
Was it likely, he asked, that a man of Wilde's cleverness would put
himself so completely in the power of these harpies as he would be if
guilty of only a tenth of the enormities they alleged against him? If
Wilde practised these acts so openly and so flagrantly--if he allowed the
facts to come to the knowledge of so many--then he was a fool who was not
fit to be at large. If the evidence was to be credited, these acts of
gross indecency which culminated in actual crime were done in so open a
manner as to compel the attention of landladies and housemaids. He was
not himself--and he thanked Heaven for it--versed in the acts of those who
committed these crimes against nature. He did not know under what
circumstances they could be practised. But he believed that this was a
vice which, because of the horror and repulsion it excited, because of the
fury it provoked against those guilty of it, was conducted with the utmost
possible secrecy. He respectfully submitted that no jury could find a man
guilty on the evidence of these tainted witnesses.
Take the testimony, he said, of Atkins. This young man had denied that he
had ever been charged at a police station with alleging blackmail. Yet he
was able to prove that he had grossly perjured himself in this and other
directions. That was a sample of the evidence and Atkins was a type of the
witnesses.
The only one of these youths who had ever attempted to get a decent living
or who was not an experienced blackmailer was Mavor, and he had denied
that Wilde had ever been guilty of any impropriety with him.
The prosecution had sought to make capital out of two letters written by
Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas. He pointed out a fact which was of
considerable importance, namely, that Wilde had produced one of these
letters himself. Was that the act of a man who had reason to fear the
contents of a letter being known? Wilde never made any secret of visiting
Taylor's rooms. He found there society which afforded him variety and
change. Wilde made no secret of giving dinners to some of the witnesses.
He thought that they were poorly off and that a good dinner at a
restaurant did not often come their way. On only one occasion did he hire
a private room. The dinners were perfectly open and above-board. Wilde was
an extraordinary man and he had written letters which might seem
high-flown, extravagant, exaggerated, absurd if they liked; but he was not
afraid or ashamed to produce these letters. The witnesses Charles Parker,
Alfred Wood and Atkins had been proved to have previously been guilty of
blackmailing of this kind and upon their uncorroborated evidence surely
the jury would not convict the prisoner on such terrible charges.
"Fix your minds," concluded Sir Edward earnestly, "firmly on the tests
that ought to be applied to the evidence as a whole before you can condemn
a fellow-man to a charge like this. Remember all that this charge implied,
of implacable ruin and inevitable disgrace. Then I trust that the result
of your deliberations will be to gratify those thousand hopes that are
waiting upon your verdict. I trust that verdict will clear from this
fearful imputation one of the most accomplished and renowned
men-of-letters of to-day."
At the end of this peroration, there was some slight applause at the back
of the court, but it was hushed almost at once. Wilde had paid great
attention to the speech on his behalf and on one or two occasions had
pressed his hands to his eyes as if expressing some not unnatural emotion.
The speech concluded, however, he resumed his customary attitude and
awaited with apparent firmness all that might befall.
Mr. Grain then rose to address the jury on behalf of Taylor. He submitted
that there was really no case against his client. An endeavour had been
made to prove that Taylor was in the habit of introducing to Wilde youths
whom he knew to be amenable to the practices of the latter and that he got
paid for this degrading work. The attempt to establish this disgusting
association between Taylor and Wilde had completely broken down. He was,
it is true, acquainted with Parker, Wood and Atkins. He had seen them
constantly in restaurants and music-halls, and they had at first forced
themselves upon his notice and thus got acquainted with a man whom they
designed for blackmail. All the resources of the Crown had been unable to
produce any corroboration of the charges made by these witnesses. How had
Taylor got his livelihood, it might be asked? He was perfectly prepared to
answer the question. He had been living on an allowance made him by
members of his late father's firm, a firm with which all there present
were familiar. Was it in the least degree likely that such scenes as the
witnesses described, with such apparent candour and such wealth of filthy
detail, could have taken place in Taylor's own apartments? It was
incredible that a man could thus risk almost certain discovery. In
conclusion, he confidently looked for the acquittal of his client, who was
guilty of nothing more than having made imprudent acquaintances and having
trusted too much to the descriptions of themselves given by others.
Mr. Gill then replied for the prosecution in a closely-reasoned and most
able speech, which occupied two hours in delivery and which created an
enormous impression in the crowded court. He commented at great length
upon the evidence. He contended that in a case of this description
corroboration was of comparatively minor importance, for it was not in the
least likely that acts of the kind alleged would be practised before a
third party who might afterwards swear to the fact. Therefore, when the
witnesses described what had transpired when they and the prisoners were
alone, he did not think that corroboration could possibly be given. There
was not likely to be an eye-witness of the facts. But in respect to many
things he declared the evidence was corroborated. Whatever the character
of these youths might be, they had given evidence as to certain facts and
no cross-examination, however adroit, however vigorous, had shaken their
testimony, or caused them to waver about that which was evidently firmly
implanted in their memories. A man might conceivably come forward and
commit perjury. But these youths were accusing themselves, in accusing
another, of shameful and infamous acts, and this they would hardly do if
it were not the truth. Wilde had made presents to these youths and it was
noticeable that the gifts were invariably made after he had been alone, at
some rooms or other, with one or another of the lads. In the
circumstances, even a silver cigarette-case was corroboration. His learned
friend had protested against any evil construction being placed upon these
gifts and these dinners; but, in the name of common-sense, what other
construction was possible? When they heard of a man like Wilde,
presumably of refined and cultured tastes, who might if he wished, enjoy
the society of the best and most cultivated men and women in London,
accompanying to Nice and other places on the Continent, uninformed,
unintellectual and vulgar, ill-bred youths of the type of Charles Parker,
then, in Heaven's name what were they to think? All those visits, all
those dinners, all those gifts, were corroboration. They served to confirm
the truth of the statements made by the youths who confessed to the
commission of acts for which the things he had quoted were positive and
actual payment.
In the case of the witness Sidney Mavor, it was clear that Wilde had, in
some way, continued to disgust this youth. Some acts of Wilde, either
towards himself, or towards others, had offended him. Was not the letter
which Mavor had addressed to the prisoner, desiring the cessation of their
friendship, corrobation?
(At this moment his Lordship interposed, and said that although the
evidence of this witness was clearly of importance, he had denied that he
had been guilty of impropriety, and he did not think the count in
reference to Mavor could stand. After some discussion this count was
struck out of the indictment).
Before concluding Mr. Gill stated that he had withdrawn the conspiracy
count to prevent any embarrassment to Sir Edward Clarke, who had
complained that he was affected in his defence by the counts being joined.
Mr. Gill said, in conclusion, that it was the duty of the jury to express
their verdict without fear or favour. They owed a duty to Society, however
sorry they might feel themselves at the moral downfall of an eminent man,
to protect Society from such scandals by removing from its heart a sore
which could not fail in time to corrupt and taint it all.
Mr. Justice Charles then commenced his summing-up. His lordship at the
outset said he thought Mr. Gill had taken a wise course in withdrawing the
conspiracy counts and thus relieving them all of an embarrassing position.
He did not see why the conspiracy counts need have been inserted at all,
and he should direct the jury to return a verdict of acquittal on those
charges as well as upon one other count against Taylor, to which he would
further allude, and upon which no sufficient evidence had been given.
He, the learned judge, asked the jury to apply their minds solely to the
evidence which had been given. Any pre-conceived notion which they might
have formed from reading about the case he urged them to dismiss from
their minds, and to deal with the case as it had been presented to them by
the witnesses.
His Lordship went on to ask the jury not to attach too much importance to
the uncorroborated evidence of accomplices in such cases as these. Had
there been no corroboration in this case it would have been his duty to
instruct the jury accordingly; but he was clearly of opinion that there
was corroboration to all the witnesses; not, it is true, the conspiracy
testimony of eye-witnesses, but corroboration of the narrative generally.
Three of the witnesses, Chas. Parker, Wood and Atkins, were not only
accomplices, but they had been properly described by Sir Edward Clarke as
persons of bad character. Atkins, out of his own mouth, was convicted of
having told the most gross and deliberate falsehoods. The jury knew how
this matter came before them as the outcome of the trial of Lord
Queensberry for alleged libel.
The learned judge proceeded to outline the features of the Queensberry
trial, commenting most upon what was called the literary part of Wilde's
examination in that case. The judge said that he had not read "Dorian
Gray", but extracts were read at the former trial and the present jury had
a general idea of the story. He did not think they ought to base any
unfavourable inference upon the fact that Wilde was the author of that
work. It would not be fair to do so, for while it was true that there were
many great writers, such for instance as Sir Walter Scott and Charles
Dickens, who never penned an offensive line, there were other great
authors whose pens dealt with subjects not so innocent.
As for Wilde's aphorisms in the "Chameleon", some were amusing, some were
cynical, and some were, if he might be allowed to say so, simple, but
there was nothing _in per se_, to convict Wilde of indecent practices.
However, the same paper contained a very indecent contribution; "The
Priest and the Acolyte." Mr. Wilde had nothing to do with that. In the
"Chameleon" also appeared two poems by Lord Alfred Douglas, one called "In
Praise of Shame", and the other called "Two Loves." It was said that these
sonnets had an immoral tendency and that Wilde approved them. He was
examined at great length about these sonnets, and was also asked about the
two letters written by him to Lord Alfred Douglas--letters that had been
written before the publication of the above mentioned poems.
In the previous case Mr. Carson had insisted that these letters were
indecent. On the other hand, Wilde had told them that he was not ashamed
of them, as they were intended in the nature of prose poems and breathed
the pure love of one man for another, such a love as David had for
Jonathan, and such as Plato described as the beginning of wisdom.
He would next deal with the actual charges, and would first call their
attention to the offence alleged to have been committed with Edward
Shelley at the beginning of 1892. Shelley was undoubtedly in the position
of an accomplice, but his evidence was corroborated. He was not, however,
tainted with the offences with which Parker, Wood and Atkins were
connected. He seemed to be a person of some education and a fondness for
Literature. As to Shelley's visit to the Albemarle Hotel, the jury were
the best judges of the demeanour of the witness. Wilde denied all the
allegations of indecency though he admitted the other parts of the young
man's story. His Lordship called attention to the letters written by
Shelley to Wilde in 1892, 1893 and 1894. It was, he said, a very anxious
part of the jury's task to account for the tone of these letters, and for
Shelley's conduct generally. It became a question as to whether or no his
mind was disordered. He felt bound to say that though there was evidence
of great excitability, to talk of either Shelley or Mavor as an insane
youth was an exaggeration, but it would be for the jury to draw their own
conclusions.
Passing to the case of Atkins, the judge drew attention to his meeting
with Taylor in November 1892, to the dinner at the Cafe Florence, at which
Wilde, Taylor, Atkins and Lord A. Douglas were present, and to the visit
of Atkins to Paris in company with Wilde.
After dwelling on the circumstances of that visit, his lordship referred
to Wilde's two visits to Atkins in Osnaburgh Street in December 1893.
Wilde explained the Paris visit by saying that Schwabe had arranged to
take Atkins to Paris, but being unable to leave at the time appointed he
asked Wilde to take charge of the youth, and he did so out of friendship
for Schwabe. Wilde further denied that he was much in Atkins' company when
in Paris. Atkins certainly was an unreliable witness and had obviously
given an incorrect version of his relations with Burton. He told the
grossest falsehoods with regard to their arrest, and was convicted out of
his own mouth when recalled by Sir E. Clarke. It was for the jury to
decide how much of Atkins's evidence they might safely believe.
Then there were the events described as having occured at the Savoy Hotel
in March 1892. He would ask the jury to be careful in the evidence of the
chamber-maid, Jane Cotter, and the interpretation they put upon it. If her
evidence and that of the Masseur Mijji, were true, then Wilde's evidence
on that part of the case was untrue, and the jury must use their own
discretion. He did not wish to enlarge upon this most unpleasant part of
the whole unpleasant case, but it was necessary to remind the jury as
discreetly as he could that the chamber-maid had objected to making the
bed on several occasions after Wilde and Atkins had been in the bed-room
alone together. There were, she had affirmed, indications on the sheets
that conduct of the grossest kind had been indulged in. He thought it his
duty to remind the jury that there might be an innocent explanation of
these stains, though the evidence of Jane Cotter certainly afforded a kind
of corroboration of these charges and of Atkins's own story. In reference
to the case of Wood, he contrasted Wood's account with that of Wilde.
It seemed that Lord Alfred Douglas had met Wood at Taylor's rooms. In
response to a telegram from the former, Wood went to the Cafe Royal and
there met Wilde for the first time, Wilde speaking first. On the other
hand, Wilde represented that Wood spoke first. The jury might think that,
in any case, the circumstances of that meeting were remarkable, especially
when taken in conjunction with what followed. There was no doubt that Wood
had fallen into evil courses and he and Allen had extracted the sum of
L300 in blackmail. The interview between Wilde and Wood prior to the
latter's departure for America was remarkable. A sum of money, said to be
L30, was given by Wilde to Wood, and Wood returned some of Wilde's letters
that had somehow come into his possession. Wood, however, kept back one
letter which got into Allen's possession. Wood got L5 more on the
following day, went to America, and while there wrote to Taylor a letter
in which occured the passage. "Tell Oscar if he likes he can send me a
draft for an Easter Egg." It would be for the jury to consider what would
have been the inner meaning of these and other transactions.