The man of genius in Great Britain is feared and hated in exact proportion to his originality, and if he happens to be a writer or a musician he is despised to boot.  The prejudice against Oscar Wilde showed itself virulently on all hands.  Mr. Justice Collins did not attempt to restrain the cheering of the court that greeted the success of Lord Queensberry.  Not one of the policemen who stood round the door tried to stop the “booing” of the crowd who pursued Oscar Wilde with hootings and vile cries when he left the court.  He was judged already and condemned before being tried.

The police, too, acted against him with extraordinary vigour.  It has been stated by Mr. Sherard in his “Life” that the police did not attempt to execute the warrant against Wilde, “till after the last train had left for Dover,” and that it was only Oscar’s obstinacy in remaining in London that necessitated his arrest.  This idea is wholly imaginary.

It is worth while to know exactly what took place at this juncture.  From Oscar’s conduct in this crisis the reader will be able to judge whether he has been depicted faithfully or not in this book.  He has been described as amiable, weak, of a charming disposition—­easily led in action, though not in thought:  now we shall see how far we were justified, for he is at one of those moments which try the soul.  Fortunately every incident of that day is known:  Oscar himself told me generally what happened and the minutest details of the picture were filled in for me a little later by his best friend, Robert Ross.

In the morning Mr. Mathews, one of Oscar’s counsel, came to him and said:  “If you wish it, Clarke and I will keep the case going and give you time to get to Calais.”

Oscar refused to stir.  “I’ll stay,” was all he would say.  Robert Ross urged him to accept Mathew’s offer; but he would not:  why?  I am sure he had no reason, for I put the question to him more than once, and even after reflecting, he had no explanation to give.  He stayed because to stay was easier than to make an immediate decision and act on it energetically.  He had very little will power to begin with and his mode of life had weakened his original endowment.

After the judgment had been given in favour of Queensberry, Oscar drove off in a brougham, accompanied by Alfred Douglas, to consult with his solicitor, Humphreys.  At the same time he gave Ross a cheque on his bank in St. James’s Street.  At that moment he intended to fly.

Ross noticed that he was followed by a detective.  He drew about L200 from the bank and raced off to meet Oscar at the Cadogan Hotel, in Sloane Street, where Lord Alfred Douglas had been staying for the past four or five weeks.  Ross reached the Cadogan Hotel about 1.45 and found Oscar there with Reggie Turner.  Both of them advised Oscar to go at once to Dover and try to get to France; but he would only say, “the train has gone; it is too late.”  He had again lapsed into inaction.