When
Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest: a
trivial comedy for serious people premiered in London
on Valentine's Day, 1895, Wilde (aged 40) was widely
acknowledged to have decisively conquered the theater
world...
Even the New York Times noted "Wilde may be
said to have at last, and by a single stroke, put his
enemies under his feet."
But within 100 days, Earnest had closed, Wilde's
plays were universally considered un-produceable,
Wilde had been publicly humiliated beyond all
imagining, and he was facing a two-year prison term...
all for being homosexual.
For the last two years, Wilde's primary
love-interest had been Lord Alfred "Bosie"
Douglas. Bosie's father, unfortunately, was a severely
repressed and repressive individual, best remembered
as the originator of the "Marques of Queensbury
rules" in boxing. The Marques was livid over his
son's relationship with Wilde, and determined to bring
Wilde down.
His first plan had been to disrupt the premiere of
Earnest, but Wilde having gotten wind of this, the Marques
was denied entrance. So a few days later, on February
18, he left a calling card at Wilde's club, with the
note: "To Oscar Wilde posing Somdomite".
Perhaps if Wilde had ignored this, it might have
resolved itself without any great tragedy... but more
likely Wilde knew that Queensbury was not going to let
the matter drop, so unwisely, at Bosie's urging, he
swore out a warrant on March 1 for the arrest of
Queensbury, for libel.
The trial was set for April 3, with Queensbury
represented by a college acquaintance of Wilde's--
Edward Carson. A day or two before the trial, Wilde
was appalled to learn that the defense had come up
with ten names of boys Wilde had (supposedly)
solicited, along with some letters he'd written Bosie.
Wilde took the stand on the first day, and at first
delighted the court with his wit. (Carson reads a
verse from an essay of Wilde's, and asks, "And I
suppose you wrote that also, Mr. Wilde?" "Ah
no, Mr. Carson, Shakespeare wrote that...")
But gradually, Carson zeroed in on his target, and
gained the upper hand. The tide's turning reduced
Wilde to: "You sting me and insult me and try to
unnerve me; and at times one says things flippantly
when one ought to speak more seriously. I admit
it..."
Queensbury was not just exonerated, the judge
instructed the jury to find him justified in calling
Wilde a sodomite in public. Having lost, Wilde's
friends unanimously recommended he flee the country,
because arrest seemed inevitable, but Wilde's pride
would not allow it, and on the fifth of April he was
arrested and jailed.
During April, Wilde faced a series of preliminary
hearings, in which new evidence was introduced by
various hotel employees testifying about Wilde's bed partners,
and the fecal stains found on his sheets! But the
trial ended in a hung jury, and a second trial had to
be scheduled for May 22.
Having been released on 5000 pounds bail on May 7,
Wilde again had the opportunity to flee, and chose not
to. On May 25, the jury found him guilty, and the
judge declared, "People who can do these things
must be dead to all sense of shame... It is the worst
case I have ever tried.... I shall, under such
circumstances, be expected to pass the severest
sentence that the law allows. In my judgment it is
totally inadequate for such a case as this. The
sentence of the Court is that... you be imprisoned and
kept to hard labor for two years."
In Pentonville prison he was required to walk a
treadmill for six hours every day, and to sleep on a
bare board. He was allowed no communication with the
outside world for the first three months. He lost
twenty pounds in the first month. A chaplain wrote:
When he first came down here from Pentonville [he
had been moved to Wandsworth] he was in an excited
flurried condition, and seemed as if he wished to face
his punishment without flinching. But all this has
passed away. As soon as the excitement aroused by the
trial subsided and he had to encounter the daily
routine of prison life his fortitude began to give way
and rapidly collapsed altogether. He is now quite
crushed and broken. This is unfortunate, as a prisoner
who breaks down in one direction generally breaks down
in several, and I fear from what I hear and see that
perverse sexual practices [masturbation] are again
getting the mastery over him. This is a common
occurrence among prisoners of his class and is of
course favored by constant cellular isolation. The odor
of his cell is now so bad that the officer in charge
of him has to use carbolic acid in it every day.... I
need hardly tell you that he is a man of decidedly
morbid disposition.... In fact some of our most
experienced officers openly say that they don't think
he will be able to go through the two years.
He was moved again, to Reading, the subject of his
"Ballad of Reading Gaol", where he wrote his
apologia, De Profundis. Released finally on May 18,
1897, Wilde settled in France, where he died on
November 30, 1900, at the age of 46.
During his final fever, he still retained his wit:
"My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the
death. One or the other of us has to go..."
In January 1882, before his (hetero) marriage and
long before his recognition of his own sexuality,
Oscar Wilde gave a well-received lecture tour in the
US.
One of his first stops was to pay a call, on
January 18, on the poet Walt Whitman at his home in
Camden, NJ. They drank homemade elderberry wine
together, and milk punch, talking for two hours...
"He is the grandest man I have ever
seen," Wilde told a reporter, "the simplest,
most natural, and strongest character I have ever met
in my life..."
And, much later, in private, he bragged: "The
kiss of Walt Whitman is still on my lips..."
|