Sir FRANK.--"I will read one of these prose-poem letters. Do you think this line is decent, addressed to a young man? "Your rose-red lips which are made for the music of song and the madness of kissing."
WITNESS.--"It was like a sonnet of Shakespeare. It was a fantastic, extravagant way of writing to a young man. It does not seem to be a question of whether it is proper or not."
Sir FRANK.--"I used the word decent."
WITNESS.--"Decent, oh yes."
Sir FRANK.--"Do you think you understand the word, Sir?"
WITNESS.--"I do not see anything indecent in it, it was an attempt to address in beautiful phraseology a young man who had much culture and charm."
Sir FRANK.--"How many times have you been in the College Street "snuggery" of the man Taylor?"
WITNESS.--"I do not think more than five or six times."
Sir FRANK.--"Who did you meet there?"
WITNESS.--"Sidney Mavor and Schwabe--I cannot remember any others. I have not been there since I met Wood there."
Sir FRANK.--"With regard to the Savoy Hotel Witnesses?"
WITNESS.--"Their evidence is quite untrue."
Sir FRANK.--"You deny that the bed-linen was marked in the way described?"
WITNESS.--"I do not examine bed-linen when I arise. I am not a housemaid."
Sir FRANK.--"Were the stains there, Sir?"
WITNESS.--"If they were there, they were not caused in the way the Prosecution most filthily suggests."
Sir Edward Clarke, after a slight "breeze" with the Solicitor-General as to the right to the last word to the jury, then addressed that devoted band of men for the third time, and asked for the acquittal of his client on all the counts.
Sir Frank Lockwood also addressed the jury and the Court then adjoined.
Next day the Solicitor-General, resuming his speech on behalf of the Crown dealt in details with the arguments of Sir E. Clarke in defence of Wilde, and commented in strong terms on observations that he made respecting the lofty situation of Wilde, with his literary accomplishments, for the purpose of influencing the judgment of the young. He said that the jury ought to discard absolutely any such appeal, to apply simply their common-sense to the testimony; and to form a conclusion on the evidence, which he submitted fully established the charges.
He was commenting on another branch of the case, when Sir E. Clarke interposed on the ground that the learned Solicitor-General was alluding to incidents connected with another trial. The Solicitor-General maintained that he was strictly within his rights, and the Judge held that the latter was ent.i.tled to make the comments objected to. "My learned friend does not appear to have gained a great deal by his superfluity of interruption", remarked the Solicitor-General suavely, and the Court laughed loudly. The Judge said that this sort of thing was most offensive to him. It was painful enough to have to try such a case and keep the scales of justice evenly balanced without the Court being pestered with meaningless laughter and applause. If such conduct were repeated he would have the Court cleared.
The Solicitor-General then criticised the answers given by Wilde to the charges, which explanations he submitted, were not worthy of belief. The jury could not fail to put the interpretation on the conduct of the accused that he was a guilty man and they ought to say so by their verdict.
The Judge, in summing-up, referred to the difficulties of the case in some of its features. He regretted, that if the conspiracy counts were unnecessary, or could not be established, they should have been placed in the indictment. The jury must not surrender their own independent judgment in dealing with the facts and ought to discard everything which was not relevant to the issue before them, or did not a.s.sist their judgment.
He did not desire to comment more than he could help about Lord Alfred Douglas or the Marquis of Queensberry, but the whole of this lamentable enquiry arose through the defendant"s a.s.sociation with Lord A. Douglas.
He did not think that the action of the Marquis of Queensberry in leaving the card at the defendant"s club, whatever motives he had, was that of a gentleman. The jury were ent.i.tled to consider that these alleged acts happened some years ago. They ought to be the best judges as to the testimony of the witnesses and whether it was worthy of belief.
The letters written by the accused to Lord A. Douglas were undoubtedly open to suspicion, and they had an important bearing on Wood"s evidence.
There was no corroboration of Wood as to the visit to t.i.te Street, and if his story had been true, he thought that some corroboration might have been obtained. Wood belonged to the vilest cla.s.s of person which Society was pestered with, and the jury ought not to believe his story unless satisfactorily corroborated.
Their decision must turn on the character of the first introduction of Wilde to Wood. Did they believe that Wilde was actuated by charitable motives or by improper motives?
The foreman of the jury, interposing at this stage, asked whether a warrant had been issued for the arrest of Lord Alfred Douglas and if not, whether it was intended to issue one.
The Judge said he could not tell, but he thought not. It was a matter they could not now discuss. The granting of a warrant depended not upon the inferences to be drawn from the letters referred to in the case, but on the production of evidence of specific acts. There was a disadvantage in speculating on this question. They must deal with the evidence before them and with that alone. The foreman said, "If we are to deduce from the letters it applies to Lord Alfred Douglas equally as to the defendant."
THE JUDGE.--"In regard to the question as to the absence of Lord A.
Douglas, I warn you not to be influenced by any consideration of the kind.
All that they knew was that Lord A. Douglas went to Paris shortly after the last trial and had remained there since. He felt sure that if the circ.u.mstances justified it, the necessary proceedings could be taken."
His lordship dealt with each of the charges, and the evidence in support of them, and he then, after thanking the jury for the patient manner in which they had attended to the case, left the issues in their hands.
The jury retired to consider their verdict at half past three o"clock and at half past five they returned into Court.
_THE VERDICT_
Amidst breathless excitement, the Foreman, in answer to the usual formal questions, announced the verdict, "Guilty."
Sir EDWARD CLARKE.--"I apply, my lord, for a postponement of sentence."
The JUDGE.--"I must certainly refuse that request. I can only characterise the offences as the worst that have ever come under my notice. I have, however, no wish to add to the pain that must be felt by the defendants. I sentence both Wilde and Taylor to two years imprisonment with hard labour."
The sentence was met with some cries of "shame", "a scandalous verdict", "unjust," by certain persons in Court. The two prisoners appeared dazed and Wilde especially seemed ready to faint as he was hurried out of sight to the cells.
Thus perished by his own act a man who might have made a lasting mark in British Literature and secured for himself no mean place in the annals of his time.
He forfeited, in the pursuit of forbidden pleasures, if pleasures they can be called, all and everything that made life dear.
He entered upon his incarceration bankrupt in reputation, in friends, in pocket, and had not even left to him the poor shreds of his own self-esteem.
He went into gaol, knowing that if he emerged alive, the darkness would swallow him up and that his world--the spheres which had delighted to honour him--would know him no more.
He had covered his name with infamy and sank his own celebrity in a slough of slime and filth.
He would die to leave behind him what?--the name of a man who was absolutely governed by his own vices and to whom no act of immorality was too foul or horrible.
Oscar Wilde emerged from prison in every way a broken man. The wonderful descriptive force of the _Ballad of Reading Gaol_; the perfect, torturing self-a.n.a.lysis of _De Profundis_ speak eloquently of powers unimpaired; but they were the swan-songs of a once great mind. All his abilities had fled.
He seemed unable to concentrate his mind upon anything. He took up certain subjects, played with them, and wearied of them in a day. French authors did not ostracise the erratic English genius when he hid himself amongst them and they honestly endeavoured to find him employment. But his faculties had been blunted by the horrors of prison life. His epigrams had lost their edge. His aphorisms were trite and aimless. He abandoned every subject he took up, in despair. His mind died before his body. He suffered from a complete mental atrophy. A nightingale cannot sing in a cage. A genius cannot flourish in a prison. He died in two years and is now--the merest memory! Let us remember this of him: if he sinned much, he suffered much.
Peace to his ashes!
HIS LAST BOOK AND HIS LAST YEARS IN PARIS _By_ "_A_"
(LORD ALFRED DOUGLAS?)