Chapter V: And a short time afterwards, Wilde went back to Paris.1

His play was not written--it will never be written now. Society well knows what steps to take when it wants to crush a man, and it has means more subtle than death. Wilde had suffered too grievously for the last two years, and in too submissive a manner, and his will had been broken. For the first few months he might still have entertained illusions, but he soon gave them up. It was as though he had signed his abdication. Nothing remained in his shattered life but a mouldy ruin, painful to contemplate, of his former self. At times he seemed to wish to show that his brain was still active. Humour there was, but it was far-fetched, forced, and threadbare.

I met him again on two occasions only. One evening on the Boulevards, where I was walking with G----, I heard my name called. I turned round and saw Wilde. Ah! how changed he was. 'If I appear again before writing my play, the world will refuse to see in me anything except the felon,' he had once said to me. He had appeared again, without his play, and as he found certain doors closed in his face, he no longer sought admission anywhere. He prowled.

Friends, at different times, tried to save him[2]. They did all they could think of, and were for taking him to Italy, but he eluded their efforts, and began to drift back. Among those who had remained faithful for the longest time, some had often told me that Wilde was no longer to be seen, and I was somewhat uneasy, I admit, at seeing him again, and what is more, in a place where so many people might pass. Wilde was sitting at a table outside a café. He ordered two cock-tails for G---- and myself. I was going to sit opposite to him in such a way as to turn my back to the passers-by, but Wilde, noticed this movement, which he took as an impulse of absurd shame, (he was not entirely mistaken, I must admit), and said, 'Oh, sit here, near me,' pointing to a chair at his side, 'I am so much alone just now.'

Wilde was still well-dressed, but his hat was not so glossy; his collar was of the same shape, but it was not so clean, and the sleeves of his coat were slightly frayed at the edges.

'When I used to meet Verlaine in days gone by,' he continued with an outburst of pride, 'I was never ashamed of being seen with him. I was rich, light-hearted, and covered with glory, but I felt that to be seen with him was an honour, even when Verlaine was drunk.' Then fearing to bore G----, I think, he suddenly changed his mood, tried to be witty and to make jokes. In the effort he became gloomy. My recollections here are dreadfully sad. At last my friend and I got up. Wilde insisted on paying for the drinks, and I was about to say good-bye, when he took me aside, and, with an air of great embarrassment, said in a low voice, 'I say, I must tell you, I am absolutely without a penny[3].

Some days afterwards I saw him again, and for the last time. I do not want to repeat more than one word of our conversation. He told me of his troubles, of the impossibility of carrying out, or even of beginning, a piece of work[4]. Sadly I reminded him of the promise he had made not to show himself in Paris without having finished one book. 'Ah!' I began, 'why did you leave Berneval so soon, when you ought to have stayed there so long? I cannot say that I am angry with you, but--'

He interrupted me, laid his hand on mine, looked at me with his most sorrowful look, and said, 'You must not be angry with _one who has been crushed_[5].'

* * * * *

Oscar Wilde died in a shabby little hotel in the Rue des Beaux Arts. Seven persons followed the hearse, and even they did not all accompany the funeral procession to the end. On the coffin were some flowers and some artificial wreaths, only one of which, I am told, bore any inscription. It was from the proprietor of the hotel, and on it were these words: 'A MON LOCATAIRE.'

[1] The representatives of his family were willing to guarantee Wilde a very good position if he would consent to certain stipulations, one of which was that he should never see ---- again. He was either unable or unwilling to accept the conditions.

[2] In October, 1897, he stayed with friends at the Villa Gindice, Posillipo, and was in Naples till the end of the year, or the beginning of 1898, when he went to Paris. In the following year he went to the South of France (Nice) for the spring, but was back in June or July. He went also to Switzerland in 1899 and stayed some time at Gland.

[3] M. Gide says that Wilde's words were '_je suis absolument sans ressources_,' which, I think, need not mean more than a temporary embarrassment. I have been at some pains to find out what the actual circumstances were, and I am able to state the following facts on the authority of Lord Alfred Douglas. When Mr. Wilde came out of prison, the sum of £800 was subscribed for him by his friends. Lord Alfred Douglas gave or sent Mr. Wilde, in the last twelve months of his life, cheques for over £600, as he can show by his bank-book, in addition to ready money gifts, and several others gave him at various times amounts totalling up to several hundreds of pounds. 'It is true,' Lord Alfred Douglas writes, 'he was always hard up and short of money, but that was because he was incurably extravagant and reckless. I think these facts ought to be known in justice to myself and many others of his friends, all poor men.' In another letter Lord Alfred Douglas says that Mr. Wilde, when he was well off, before his disaster, was the most generous of men. After 1897 received also large sums of money as advance fees for plays which he never finished. 'I hope,' Lord Alfred Douglas continues, 'you will not think that I blame him, or have any grievance against him on any account. What I gave him I considered I owed him, as he had often lent and given me money before he came to grief. I was delighted that he should have it, and I wish I had had time to give him more.' It was not, however, till after the death of his father, that Lord Alfred Douglas was in a position to help Mr. Wilde to the extent that he did, and Mr. Wilde died within a few months of the death of Lord Queensberry.

Lord Alfred Douglas adds that he thinks 'it is about time that some of the poisonous nonsense which has been written about Mr. Wilde should be qualified by a little fact.'

It must be remembered, however, that large as the sums of money were which Mr. Wilde received during the last few years of his life, they would not appear so to him, as in the days of his highest success he was receiving several thousands a year from his plays and other works.

It is since the first sheets of this book passed through the press that I have been favoured with the information that Lord Alfred Douglas has been good enough to give me, and I now wish to qualify the statement in my introductory remarks that Mr. Wilde died 'in poverty.' It would be more accurate to say 'in comparative poverty.'

[4] Two plays produced in London shortly hefore his death have been attributed to Oscar Wilde. One of these, _The Tyranny of Tears_, does not contain a single line of his. The other is _Mr. and Mrs. Daventry_, the plot of which was originally Oscar Wilde's, and he sketched out the scenario. The play was then sold to Mr. Frank Harris, who has always acknowledged Wilde's share in it, but the piece was entirely transformed, and except one or two of the situations in it there was very little left of Wilde's idea.

Referring to such works as the translations of _Ce Qui ne Meurt pas_ and the _Satyricon_ which have heen issued under Oscar Wilde's name, Mr. Robert Ross (the editor of _De Profundis_), writes:--'No one can produce even a scrap of MS. in the author's handwriting of these so-called "last works."'

[5] 'Scandals used to lend charm, or at least interest, to a man--now they crush him.'--_An Ideal Husband_, Act I.

* * * * *

TO OSCAR WILDE,

AUTHOR OF 'RAVENNA.'

BY AUGUSTUS M. MOORE.

No Marsyas am I, who singing came
To challenge King Apollo at a Test,
But a love-wearied singer at the best.
The myrtle leaves are all that I can claim,
While on thy brow there burns a crown of flame,
Upon thy shield Italia's eagle crest;
Content am I with Lesbian leaves to rest,
Guard thou thy laurels and thy mother's name.

I buried Love within the rose I meant
To deck the fillet of thy Muse's hair;
I take this wild-flower, grown against her feet,
And kissing its half-open lips I swear,
Frail though it be and widowed of its scent,
I plucked it for your sake and find it sweet.

MOORE HALL,

SEPTEMBER, 1878.

From _The Irish Monthly_, Vol. vi, No. 65.

* * * * *

LIST OF PUBLISHED WRITINGS OF OSCAR WILDE.

Αἴλινον, αἴινον εἰπὲ, Τὸ δ᾽ ευ̉ νικάτω. _Dublin University Magazine_, September, 1876.

APOLOGIA. _Poets and Poetry of the Century_, Edited by A. H. Miles, Vol. viii, 1891, 1898.

ARTIST, THE. In 'Poems in Prose.'

ARTIST'S DREAM, THE. _Green Room_, Routledge's Christmas Annual, 1880.

AVE IMPERATRIX! A POEM ON ENGLAND. _World_, August 25, 1880.

AVE! MARIA. _Kottabos_, Michaelmas Term, 1879.

BALLAD OF READING GAOL, THE. Leonard Smithers, 1898 (February), 7th Edition, 1899.

BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA, THE. (_Le Figaro Illustré_, Christmas Number?). In 'A House of Pomegranates.'

CANTERVILLE GHOST, THE. Illustrations by F. H. Townsend. _Court and Society Review_, February 23, March 2, 1887. In 'Lord Arthur Savile's Crime and Other Stories.'

CASE OF WARDER MARTIN, THE. _Daily Chronicle_, May 28, 1897.

CHILDREN IN PRISON. Murdoch & Co., 1898 (February).

CHINESE SAGE, A. _Speaker_, February 8, 1890

CONQUEROR OF TIME, THE. _Time_, April, 1879.

CRITIC AS ARTIST, THE. In 'Intentions.'

DE PROFUNDIS. Methuen & Co., 1905 (February 23), 4th Edition, March, 1905.

DECAY OF LYING, THE. A DIALOGUE. _Nineteenth Century_, January, 1889. In 'Intentions.'

DEVOTED FRIEND, THE. In 'The Happy Prince and Other Tales.'

Δηξίθυμον Ἔρωτος Ἄνθος. _Kottabos_, Trinity Term, 1876.

DISCIPLE, THE. _Spirit Lamp_, June 6, 1893. In 'Poems in Prose.'

DOER OF GOOD, THE. In 'Poems in Prose.'

DOLE OF THE KING'S DAUGHTER, THE. _Dublin University Magazine_, June, 1876.

DON'T READ THIS IF YOU WANT TO BE HAPPY TO-DAY. _Daily Chronicle_, March 24, 1898.

DUCHESS OF PADUA, THE. Privately printed for the Author; America, 1883[1].

ENGLISH POETESSES. _Queen_, December 8, 1888.

ENGLISH RENAISSANCE, LECTURE ON THE. G. Munro's _Seaside library_, Vol. 58, No. 1183. New York, January 19, 1882.

ETHICS OF JOURNALISM, THE. _Pall Mall Gazette_, September 20, 25, 1894.

FASCINATING BOOK, A. _Womans World_, November, 1888.

FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL, THE. In 'A House of Pomegranates.'

FRAGMENT FROM THE AGAMEMNON OF ÆSCHYLOS, A. _Kottabos_, Hilary Term, 1877.

FROM SPRING DAYS TO WINTER (for Music). _Dublin University Magazine_, January, 1876.

GRAFFITI D'ITALIA (Arona. Lago Maggiore). _Month and Catholic Review_, September, 1876.

GRAFFITI D'ITALIA (San Miniato). _Dublin University Magazine_, March, 1876.

GRAVE OF KEATS, THE. _Burlington_, January, 1881.

'GREEN CARNATION, THE.' _Pall Mall Gazette_, Oct. 2, 1894.

GROSVENOR GALLERY, THE. _Dublin University Magazine_, July, 1877.

GUIDO FERRANTI (Selection from 'The Duchess of Padua'). Werner's _Readings and Recitations_, New York, 1891.

HAPPY PRINCE AND OTHER TALES, THE. David Nutt, 1888 (May), 1889 (January), 1902 (February).

HELAS! _Poets and Poetry of the Century_. Edited by A. H. Miles, Vol. viii, 1891, 1898.

HARLOT'S HOUSE, THE. 1885[2]

HEU MISERANDE PUER! See 'Tomb of Keats, The.'

HOUSE OF JUDGMENT, THE. _Spirit Lamp_, February 17, 1893. In 'Poems in Prose.'

HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES, A. Osgood, McIlvaine & Co., 1891 (November).

HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES, A (Reply to Criticism of). _Speaker_, December 5, 1891.

IDEAL HUSBAND, AN. Leonard Smithers & Co., 1899 (July)

IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST, THE. Leonard Smithers & Co., 1899 (February).

IMPRESSION DE MATIN. _World_, March 2, 1881[3].

INTENTIONS. Osgood, McIlvaine & Co., 1891 (May). New Edition, 1894[4].

KEATS' LOVE LETTERS, SONNET ON THE RECENT SALE BY AUCTION OF. _Dramatic Review_, January 23, 1886.

KEATS' SONNET ON BLUE. _Century Guild Hobby Horse_, July, 1886.

LA BELLE MARGUERITE. Ballade du Moyen Age. _Kottabos_, Hilary Term, 1879.

LA FUITE DE LA LUNE. _Poems and Lyrics of Nature_, Edited by E. W. Rinder, Walter Scott, 1894 (May 9).

LADY ALROY. _World_, May 25, 1887. In 'Lord Arthur Savile's Crime and other Stories.'

LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN. Elkin Mathews & John Lane, 1893 (November 8).

LE JARDIN DES TUILERIES. _In a Good Cause_, Wells Gardner, Darton & Co., 1885 (June).

L'ENVOI. _Rose Leaf and Apple Leaf_, by Rennell Rodd. J. M. Stoddart & Co., Philadelphia, 1882.

LE REVEILLON. _Poems and Lyrics of Nature_. Edited by E. W. Rinder. Walter Scott, 1894 (May 9).

LES SILHOUETTES. _Poems and Lyrics of Nature_. Edited by E. W. Rinder. Walter Scott, 1894 (May 9).

LIBEL ACTION AGAINST LORD QUEENSBERRY, THE. _Evening News_, April 5, 1895.

LIBERTATIS SACRA FAMES. _World_, November 10, 1880[5].

LITERARY AND OTHER NOTES. _Woman's World_, November, December, 1887; January to March, 1888.

LONDON MODELS. Illustrations by Harper Pennington. _English Illustrated Magazine_, January, 1889.

LORD ARTHUR SAVILE'S CRIME. A story of Cheiromancy. Illustrations by F. H. Townsend. _Court and Society Review_, May 11, 18, 25, 1887. In 'Lord Arthur Savile's Crime and Other Stories.'

_Lord Arthur Savile's Crime and other Stories_. Osgood, McIlvaine & Co., 1891 (July).

LOTUS LEAVES. _Irish Monthly_, February, 1877.

MAGDALEN WALKS. _Irish Monthly_, April, 1878.

MASTER, THE. In 'Poems and Prose.'

MODEL MILLIONAIRE, THE. _World_, June 22, 1887. In 'Lord Arthur Savile's Crime and other Stories.'

MORE RADICAL IDEAS ON DRESS REFORM. _Pall Mall Gazette_, November 11, 1884.

MR. PATER'S LAST VOLUME. _Speaker_, March 22, 1890.

MR. WHISTLER'S TEN O'CLOCK. _Pall Mall Gazette_, February 21, 1885.

NEW HELEN, THE. _Time_, July, 1879.

NEW REMORSE, THE. _Spirit Lamp_, December 6, 1892.

NIGHT VISION, A. _Kottabos_, Hilary Term, 1877.

NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE, THE. _La Plume_, December 15, 1900. In 'The Happy Prince and Other Tales.'

NOTE ON SOME MODERN POETS, A. _Woman's World_, December, 1888.

OH! BEAUTIFUL STAR. (Three verses of 'Under the Balcony'). Set to music by Lawrence Kellie. Robert Cocks & Co., 1892.

ON CRITICISM; WITH SOME REMARKS ON THE IMPORTANCE OF DOING NOTHING. _Nineteenth Century_, July, September, 1890. In 'Intentions.'

PEN, PENCIL, AND POISON: A STUDY. _Fortnightly Review_, January, 1889. In 'Intentions.'

PHRASES AND PHILOSOPHIES FOR THE USE OF THE YOUNG. _Chameleon_, 1894 (December).

PHÊDRE. See 'To Sarah Bernhardt.'

PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY, THE (13 Chapters)._ Lippincott's Monthly Magazine_, July, 1890.

PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY, THE (20 Chapters). Ward, Lock & Co., 1891 (July 1). New Edition, 1894 (October 1).

PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY, THE. (Replies to Criticism of). _Daily Chronicle_, July 2, 1890. _Scots Observer_, July 12, August 2, 16, 1890.

POEMS. David Bogue, 1881 (July). 5th Edition, 1882. Elkin Mathews & John Lane, 1892 (May 26).

POEMS IN PROSE. _Fortnightly Review_, July, 1894.

Πόντος Ἀτρύγετος. _Irish Monthly_, December, 1877.

PORTIA. _World_, January 14, 1880.

PORTRAIT OF MR. W. H., THE. _Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine_, July, 1889[6].