Another side-stepping Sojourn. Oscar Wilde was an Irish poet and playwright. After writing in different forms throughout the 1880s, he became one of the most popular playwrights in London in the early 1890s. He is best remembered for his epigrams and plays, his novel ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’, and the circumstances of his criminal conviction for gross indecency for consensual homosexual acts in "one of the first celebrity trials", imprisonment, and early death from meningitis at the age of 46. He became close friends with Watson’s literary agent, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and may even have affected the character of Holmes from the second novel onwards, being present when ‘The Sign of Four’ was commissioned.
Catching a train from my home station, I alighted twenty-minutes later at Platform 10 of Clapham Junction Station, as I do around fifty times per year. However, I normally immediately either make my way to the exit or one of the other platforms, but this time I remained on the platform itself, to look at a plaque was unveiled by Wandsworth LGBTQ+ Forum, Studio Voltaire and Network Rail in 2019, in memory of Wilde's passage through Clapham Junction Station in 1895, having been sentenced to two-years hard labour following his conviction for "gross indecency with men".
On 20th November 1895, Wilde was forced to stand in handcuffs for half-an-hour on this 'centre platform' whilst being transported from the nearby Wandsworth Prison (previously visited on multiple times by myself in a professional capacity) to Reading Gaol (visited by myself on a previous occasion). He was soon recognised and became the object of jeering, spitting and abuse as a crowd gathered around him. Wilde was so traumatised by the humiliating event that he wept at the same time and for the same length of time every day for a year afterwards, later writing about this in 'De Profundis', his autobiographical letter written to his partner Lord Alfred Douglas in 1897:
"From two o’clock till half-past two on that day I had to stand on the centre platform of Clapham Junction in convict dress, and handcuffed, for the world to look at. I had been taken out of the hospital ward without a moment’s notice being given to me. Of all possible objects I was the most grotesque. When people saw me they laughed. Each train as it came up swelled the audience. Nothing could exceed their amusement. That was, of course, before they knew who I was. As soon as they had been informed they laughed still more. For half an hour I stood there in the grey November rain surrounded by a jeering mob...Well, now I am really beginning to feel more regret for the people who laughed than for myself. Of course when they saw me, I was not on my pedestal, I was in the pillory. But it is a very unimaginative nature that only cares for people on their pedestals". [Extract - ‘De Profundis’ – Oscar Wilde (1897)]
Catching a train from Platform 12, I made my way to Victoria Station, changing onto the District Line for the one-stop journey to Sloane Square. From here it was a ten minute walk, past the National Army Museum, to Tite Street. Wilde reached the height of his fame while living at #34, and it was here that he wrote ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ and ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’. The Wildes took up residence in January 1885, after ‘original and, as some visitors considered, bizarre’ decorative work had been carried out by EW Godwin, a leading figure in the Aesthetic Movement. Wilde wrote mainly in the library – at ground-floor level, facing on to the street – but he also worked in the exotic smoking room at the rear of the first floor, while his bedroom was on the storey above, also to the rear. A blue plaque was erected on the building by London County Council in 1954 (one of multiple plaques in Tite Street).
It was at Tite Street that the Marquess of Queensberry – incensed by Wilde’s association with his son Lord Alfred ‘Bosie’ Douglas – made his unannounced appearance in 1894. After a row, he was thrown out, and Oscar sued him for libel. The action, which reached the courts in spring 1895, failed, and resulted in Oscar’s prosecution and committal to prison for two years for homosexual practices. At the insistence of Wilde’s creditors, the entire contents of his Tite Street home were sold.
From Tite Street, it was a twenty minute walk to The Cadogan Hotel in Sloane Street, a
65 room hotel built in 1887, which is infamous for being the venue where Wilde was arrested in 1895, after losing the libel case.
The incident, in room 118, was immortalised by John Betjeman in his poem, ‘The Arrest of Oscar Wilde at the Cadogan Hotel’. One of the hotel’s suites is also named after Wilde.
A thump, and a murmur of voices —
(”Oh why must they make such a din?”)
As the door of the bedroom swung open
And TWO PLAIN CLOTHES POLICEMEN came in:
“Mr. Woilde, we ‘ave come for tew take yew
Where felons and criminals dwell:
We must ask yew tew leave with us quoietly
For this is the Cadogan Hotel.”
[Extract - ‘The Arrest of Oscar Wilde at the Cadogan Hotel’ – John Betjeman (1937)]
An eight minute walk brought me to Harrods, a luxury department store on Brompton Road. The current building was designed by C. W. Stephens for Charles Digby Harrod, and opened in 1905; it replaced the first store on the grounds founded by his father Charles Henry Harrod in 1849, which burned down in 1881 and was one of Wilde’s well-known London haunts. He was among the first selected customers - along with Lillie Langtry, Ellen Terry, Noël Coward, and Gertrude Lawrence - who were granted extended credit by Charles Harrod.
Catching the Piccadilly Line to Green Park, it was then a short walk to 13 Albemarle Street, where the exclusive Albemarle Club was based. The Club was unusual during Wilde’s time because it was a members’ club open to both sexes. Oscar and his wife Constance were both regulars. This club provided a key role in Wilde’s eventual downfall, with the Marquess of Queensberry arriving at the club on 18th February 1895 and demanding to see Wilde, who he (correctly) suspected of having a love affair with his son.
The porter blocked his entry, so Queensberry left a calling card with the message, “For Oscar Wilde, posing somdomite” (sic). Wilde didn’t receive the card until he turned up at the club two weeks later and was so offended by it, he decided to sue Queensberry for criminal libel. It was the libel trial which led to evidence being produced about Wilde’s sexuality, leading to his subsequent arrest and conviction for gross indecency.
A further five minute walk brought me to Hatchards Bookshop, which claims to be the oldest bookshop in the United Kingdom, founded on Piccadilly in 1797 by John Hatchard. After one move, it has been at the same location on Piccadilly next to Fortnum & Mason since 1801. Hatchards was another of Wilde’s well-known London haunts, with him declaring it his “favourite bookshop”. He signed his books sitting at the ground floor main table – today known as ‘Oscar's table’.
Continuing to Piccadilly Circus, I made my way to Café Royal, on Regent Street. Wilde and Conan Doyle were both regulars at the Café Royal, which was the preferred dining spot of the literati of the day. It opened in 1865, and in March 1894 was subject to a murder mystery when a young night porter, Marius Martin, was found lying at the entrance in a pool of his own blood. He had been killed by two bullets to the head. Two men were seen escaping via the rear exit into Glasshouse Street. They were never apprehended and the motive remains a mystery. It was also outside the Café Royal that Holmes was the subject of a ‘murderous assault’ in ‘The Illustrious Client’. The Café Royal closed in 2008, after 143 years, and is now a hotel, featuring an Oscar Wilde Lounge which serves a traditional afternoon tea.
A five minute walk brought me to Theatre Royal Haymarket, where Wilde's plays ‘A Woman of No Importance’ and ‘An Ideal Husband’ were first performed. In January 1995, Sir John Gielgud unveiled a plaque beside the stage door to mark the centenary of the first night of ‘An Ideal Husband’. Unfortunately due to scaffolding covering the back of the theatre, the plaque was partially obscured.
Making my way across Trafalgar Square, I reached Adelaide Street, and ‘A Conversation with Oscar Wilde’, an outdoor sculpture by Maggi Hambling. Unveiled in 1998, it takes the form of a bench-like green granite sarcophagus, with a bust of Wilde emerging from the upper end, with a hand clasping a cigarette. The memorial was first suggested during the 1980s and early 1990s by fans of Wilde's work, including Derek Jarman. Following Jarman's death in 1994, a committee called "A Statue for Oscar Wilde" was formed to bring a tribute to fruition. The committee, led by Jeremy Isaacs, included the actors Dame Judi Dench and Sir Ian McKellen, and the poet Seamus Heaney. The work is inscribed with a quotation from ‘Lady Windermere's Fan’: "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars".
A short distance away is Bow Street Police Station/Magistrates’ Court, where having been arrested at the Cadogan Hotel, Wilde was driven to in a four wheeler, via Scotland Yard. At Bow Street, the charges were read out to him, after which he was taken to a cell, where press reporters were allowed to peer at him through the grille, and where he paced to-and-fro all night, unable to sleep. The site is now Bow Street Police Museum, (also visited by myself on a previous occasion), being where Hugh Boone was taken in ‘The Man With The Twisted Lip’, and where the denouement of the adventure takes place.
Catching the Bakerloo Line from Charing Cross, I made my way to Oxford Circus, and at the bottom of Argyll Street, Liberty & Co., often known as Liberty’s, located on Great Marlborough Street, but spanning from Carnaby Street on the East to Kingly Street on the West. The shop was opened by Albert Lasenby Liberty in 1875, selling ornaments, fabric and objets d'art from Japan and the East. It is now known around the world for its close connection to art and culture, it is most famous for its bold and floral print fabrics. The vast mock-Tudor store also sells men's, women's and children's fashion, beauty and homewares from a mix of high-end and emerging brands and labels. In 1889, Wilde, who was a regular client of the store and used it as one of his London haunts, wrote "Liberty's is the chosen resort of the artistic shopper".
A few steps down Great Marlborough Street is the Former Marlborough Street Magistrates Court (now the Courthouse Hotel). When Wilde first sued Queensberry for libel, the initial proceedings took place here, at the former Marlborough Street Magistrates Court. The Albemarle Club’s porter Sidney Wright and Scotland Yard Detective Inspector Thomas Greet both gave evidence on 2nd March 1895, while Wilde and Queensberry made their depositions. The current building was erected in 1913 as a replacement for an older building which Wilde would have visited. Charles Dickens also worked as a reporter there for the Morning Chronicle in 1835, and in 1847 Napoleon’s nephew, Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte, appeared as a witness in a fraud case. It was in the new building that Christine Keeler attended for sex allegations leading to the infamous Profumo Affair.
Following his failed libel case, his trial for ‘gross indecency’ was heard at The Central Criminal Court, AKA ‘The Old Bailey’ (again visited by me previously, along with the site of Newgate Prison, where Wilde spent his first nights after sentence). Wilde pleaded ‘not guilty’ to the charges, and the jury was ultimately unable to reach a verdict. He was released on bail, and his final trial was preceded over by Mr Justice Wills. On 25th May 1895, he was convicted of gross indecency and was sentenced to two years hard labour, the maximum sentence allowable for his crime. Speaking in the courtroom, Wills said the maximum sentence was “totally inadequate for a case such as this” and insisted that it was “the worst case” he had ever tried.
Retracing my steps, I made my way back to Oxford Circus, then up Regent Street to Portland Place, and The Langham Hotel, where on 30th August 1889, a dinner took place between Wilde, Conan Doyle and the publisher of Lippincott's Monthly Magazine. This dinner led to Wilde writing ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ and Conan Doyle writing ‘The Sign of Four’ (the second Holmes novel). A plaque commemorating this ‘golden evening’ (as Conan Doyle described it) was unveiled in 2010 by Gyles Brandreth, author of a series of detective novels featuring Conan Doyle and Wilde solving mysteries together. Conan Doyle was very taken with Wilde and this may have led to Holmes becoming more bohemian than he was in ‘A Study in Scarlet’. In fact the Hotel appears in both of the first two novels, with it being Captain Morstan's last known address in London in the latter.
Returning to Oxford Circus, I caught the Victoria Line to Kings Cross St. Pancras, then the Piccadilly Line to Caledonian Road. A five minute walk then took me to my final stop, HMP Pentonville. Wilde was briefly resident here at the start of his sentence prior to being moved to HMP Wandsworth, and on 18th May 1897, Wilde, having spent most of his two-year sentence in Reading Gaol, was quietly transferred to Pentonville. On his release the next day, Wilde was met by More Adey, his friend and editor, and Stewart Headlam, an Anglican vicar who, even though he had never personally met Wilde, had put up bail money on Wilde’s behalf.
The prison is also mentioned by James Ryder in 'The Blue Carbuncle'. It is also here that Lord Blackwood was incarcerated and visited by Holmes in ‘Sherlock Holmes’ (2009) [filmed at Somerset House] and where Jim Moriarty managed to open all the cells in ‘The Reichenbach Fall’.
Catching the Piccadilly Line back to Kings Cross St. Pancras, I then caught the Northern Line home.
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