The Fall of the House of Wilde (15 page)

Their passionate engagement was also a revolt against their own world. They were attracted to Aran as a place where the deep past seemed to survive in the present and were continuing a venerable utopian tradition – from Montaigne to Gauguin – in searching out a Virgilian world, a Golden World in a purer state of nature, unsullied by urban and mercantile values. Ferguson admired these people of ‘pure ancient stock', unlike the hybrid races on the mainland. He thought it easy to find common ground with the people of Aran. ‘The most refined gentleman might live among them in familiar intercourse and never be offended by a gross or sordid sentiment.' Petrie also honoured the ‘noble-looking and noble-hearted race, full of lively intelligence and kindly feelings'.
¹⁰
They belonged to the modern tradition that viewed primitive conditions in glowing colours. William, having grown up in the west, was less naive.

No matter the primitivist idealising, these Celtophiles were ideological pioneers. William, in particular, was sufficiently astute to see the political potential in preserving Ireland's history and culture. He believed the future of the country depended upon Unionists' willingness to embrace the whole of Ireland, and their first step had to be to understand its history and its culture, optimistically hoping that a shared past would bind landlord and peasant.

But preservation of culture was also a way of seeding future art. Art has its own history and new art is richer when in dialogue with earlier art, as in the Renaissance. Petrie was not trying to set the music in aspic but to get inside the process of creation and rendition in order to transmit it more authentically to proceeding generations. Other artists followed in the steps of these Celtophiles, and out of this grew the Celtic Revival in the last decades of the century.

10

Wider Horizons

In the autumn of 1858, Jane and William made their first trip to Scandinavia. William planned to study the antiquities as an aid to complete the history of Irish antiquities for the Royal Irish Academy. Jane was trying to feel her way into the Scandinavian spirit by reading the works of the most widely read Swedish novelist Emilie Flygare-Carlén (1807–92), and a translated version of a Swedish saga,
Thekla: The Temptation
.
¹
Since the Kraemers' visit, she had been teaching herself Swedish and Danish. Jane kept a journal of their trip, noting the politics, culture, food, dress and education of the countries visited, and many years later wrote it up for publication:
Driftwood from Scandinavia
was published in 1884.

They travelled via Hamburg, then on to Denmark, Norway and Sweden. William's reputation as an archaeologist preceded him, and he and Jane were met and entertained by scholars. In Copenhagen, for instance, they spent much time with the founder of Denmark's national museum, Professor Thomsen. Of particular interest to William was the role of art, ancient and contemporary, in society, and where it stood in a government's priorities. The more William and Jane heard of the generous support in Denmark, the more they seethed about its insufficiency in Ireland. As Jane explained in
Driftwood from Scandinavia
:

The Danish Government gives money liberally for national purposes, and the museum is an especial object of State care . . . not an antiquity is suffered to be lost, for they are the precious hieroglyphs of an unwritten past; the highest price, therefore, is given for ‘finds', and full value for all articles of the precious metals. The peasants know this, and consequently every strange and curious object they meet with finds its way directly to the museum. Thus the Danes are never agonised, as we in Ireland have often been, by seeing the antique gold, the torques, armlets, or diadems sold to the goldsmith for the crucible, because no funds were available to purchase them for the nation . . . It is not surprising that a museum flourishes which has thus the munificent support of the State.
²

Clearly she felt William's frustration. The Royal Irish Academy was undecided as to whether it would financially support William to complete
The Catalogue of Irish Antiquities
.

Professor Thomsen had been funded to conduct a series of lectures to inform the public on the museum's collection. They attracted large numbers from all backgrounds and ethnicities. This was William's aim in Ireland – to use culture as a unifying force between class and religion. As Jane saw it, Professor Thomsen had been involved in shaping the country's history, and duly credited for so doing. In other words, he had done what William was trying to do in Ireland, but with neither the financial support nor the respect Professor Thomsen received.

In Norway, it was their system of government that was worthy of emulation. Though united with Sweden under one crown, the Norwegians were self-governed and made their own laws – this principle of ‘Home Rule' was what the ‘1848ers' had stood for. Moreover, the Swedish king was ‘obliged by law to reside a certain time every year at Christiania, to open parliament there, and hold receptions, for no Norwegian would condescend to go to Stockholm for presentation to their sovereign . . . In all these things the Norwegians show their proud, free spirit.' Queen Victoria's absence from Ireland was a bone of contention. Jane had little time for monarchy of any description. She could not tolerate the idea that kings and queens owed their authority to birth. Still less could she tolerate the deference monarchy fostered. She was thus reassured to see no pious resignation among the Norwegians, for, according to Jane, ‘they hold that kings were made for the people, not the people for kings'. She wrote, ‘their [Norway's] mode of government is certainly worth the study of other nations, especially of Ireland; for it has produced an industrious, contented people, self-respecting and self-reliant'.
³

Jane was able to put aside her reservations about monarchy and enjoy the regal splendour of Baron von Kraemer's castle at Uppsala, where vestiges of Queen Christina's reign remained. The baron had assembled the leading professors of the university to meet the Wildes, and while they were at Uppsala the university awarded William an honorary degree. Jane marvelled at the intellect of the company; as she put it to Lotten, ‘the never to be forgotten Athenian Symposium', and their capacity to converse in a range of languages.
⁴
The conversation moved easily from Shakespeare to Calderón and from Dante to Goethe.

The physicians of Stockholm marked Dr Wilde's visit with a banquet, which was probably instigated by Anders Retzius, the professor of anatomy from the Karolinska Institute in Stockholm, who was a close friend of William's, and had introduced the Kraemers to him.

The warmth of the welcome and hospitality, particularly from the Kraemers, deepened their friendship, and made the Wildes eager to return. As Jane put it in a letter to Lotten on 20 December 1858, ‘my husband talks of a run over to the Scandinavian world which he longs to explore. He has three special reasons: 1
^st
to see you & the Baron; 2
^nd
to catch salmon; 3
^rd
to study your antiquities. If he goes I swear “by the nine gods of Rome” that I will not stay behind.'
⁵
They went again the next year, in August 1859, allowing William to further his knowledge on antiquities.

It had been a bumpy ride with the Royal Irish Academy, which had decided to cease funding the catalogue. Heated quarrels ensued. The catalogue had already cost William dearly. The £250 he had received for the first part turned out to be grossly insufficient, and he had had to commit his own funds. He had also lost income by investing time he would otherwise have spent treating patients. But money was not really the issue. He had put his heart into the project – it was more a vocation. He wanted to put Ireland on the European map of Celtic history, but he could not do it singlehandedly. This was a vast national project; it required every district and parish to rally the people to watch for treasure, and to bring it forth if found. It also depended upon expertise from across the country and overseas. This level of involvement could only be achieved under the auspices of the Academy.

Some of his friends sympathised. Martin Haverty, author of a
History of Ireland
among other works, was one. He wrote to John Gilbert: ‘When last in town I saw Dr Wilde. He seemed a good deal annoyed about the proceedings in the Academy, and I think justly. He has been badly treated.' William was so infuriated and disheartened he went as far as resigning, though he rejoined soon after. He gave in to his tendency to tongue-lash, judging by the change of heart in the hitherto sympathetic Martin Haverty. ‘I am afraid, as you observe, that our friend Dr Wilde has been too hasty with the Academy. His nature is too impulsive, if it could be helped.'
⁶

Then, grudgingly, the Academy members agreed to set up a subscription, though not without strong opposition from some quarters. The catalogue was saved, at least for the time being, but the animosity continued. No matter: William dedicated himself to the task. Research for the catalogue allowed him to burrow deep into antiquity. According to Jane what stimulated him was making mute symbols yield up their secrets of centuries, or drawing stories of the hidden life of the old race from the rudest implement, and she spoke of the ‘loving zeal' with which William pursued the project.
⁷

Take, for example, one of William's entries in the catalogue: the item is an ornament called the ‘lunula'.

In the absence of any distinct reference in Irish history to these crescentic or moon-shaped ornaments, the mode in which they were worn is still a subject of discussion among antiquaries – some asserting they were hung around the neck; while others, with more apparent reason believe they were placed upright on the head, with the flat, terminal plates applied behind the ears. In this latter position they would be much more ostensible and attractive than if suspended around the neck, for which they were special decorations in the shape of gorgets and torques. In form they are identical with the nimbi on ancient carvings; and in the great majority of the oldest Byzantine pictures, similar ornaments surround the heads of the personages represented in scriptural pieces, or holy families. And, as many of these pictures are painted on panels, the glories, or nimbi, are generally plates of metal (usually silver gilt) fastened to the wood. There is a similar nimbus round the head of the chief figure in the Knockmoy fresco . . . Montfaucon has many examples of half-moon-shaped head ornaments in use among the ancient Greeks and Romans; and in the Etruscan collection at Berlin may be seen several Bronze statuettes with this exact head-dress; in one of which (that of a female) a plait of hair is drawn across the front of the lunula, between it and the forehead.
⁸

The pattern set in the ‘lunula' holds good for much of the catalogue. The richer the hinterland of knowledge, the richer the hypotheses one could develop.

William extended his knowledge by visiting the museums of northern Europe. In 1859, on their return from Scandinavia, he and Jane visited the collections in Germany. They spent many productive days in Berlin, meeting with experts and going through the museum's collection. Jane, too, enjoyed expanding her knowledge, and mentioned writing to Dr Anders Retzius for ‘information on some ethnological point'. Retzius died suddenly in April 1860, and William was particularly upset by his death. Jane told Lotten on 2 May 1860, ‘my husband has been sad ever since he had your letter – we were to have had some friends to dinner, but he put them off'. She added, ‘in truth we cannot believe that death will come to any we love'.
⁹

William's work on antiquities widened their horizons – they visited Scandinavia again in 1861 and intended to return in 1862. Many of the people they met took on an importance in their lives. There was, for instance, Rosalie Olivecrona, who lived in Stockholm, where she had founded and continued to edit a journal for women. She was married to the chief justice, and was a friend of Lotten's. She and her husband visited Dublin in August 1861 and spent much time with the Wildes. She and Jane corresponded, and there was talk of Jane writing a piece for her journal ‘on the condition of women'.
¹⁰
At Jane's request, Lotten had been sending her Swedish journals. Jane was particularly interested in reading discussions on women, and the works of contemporary Scandinavian writers, some of whom she had met through Lotten, such as the Swedish writer Thekla Knös (1815–80), or Bernhard Severin Ingemann (1789–62), a Danish novelist and poet. And much to Jane's delight, a poem of hers, ‘Man's Mission', written in 1847, was translated and published in Sweden. She presumed it was Lotten who had done her this favour. ‘Am I to thank you for it?' she wrote to Lotten. ‘Are you the fairy magician? It is at all events admirably done and I was greatly pleased to find that some little memory of me is destined to echo through the grand pine trees of Uppsala.' Jane was impatient with her slow progress in learning Swedish. As she said to Lotten, ‘if I only had anyone to help me but not a soul in Dublin can teach the Scandinavian language – However I try all I can & your translations always give me a fine opportunity for a lesson'. By the next year, March 1862, she wrote a letter to Lotten in Swedish, and asked Lotten if she knew of ‘a Swede that could speak both French & German – if you know any one that would like to come over as governess we would give her £40 Sterling a year . . . she could stay a couple of years with us'.

In the Wilde home, visitors were likely to be toasted in Swedish, at least since the arrival of a Swedish drinking horn, sent by Lotten as a gift to William. William had also come to admire Lotten; as Jane said to her, ‘you charm everyone. I even allow my husband to love you for I know he can't help it.' William had got his portrait done to send to Lotten, but as Jane explained to her, ‘then he took a dislike to it – It has a wishy-washy look & no eyes – However he will send it I think – He had it taken just as he returned from the Lord Lieutenant's soirée in his state dress as oculist to the Queen.' In due course Lotten sent one of herself in Swedish costume. Lotten's wasn't the only friend's portrait in the house, as Jane kept a book of visiting-card portraits, because by this time No. 1 Merrion Square had become a destination for foreigners visiting Ireland. For instance, Jane told Lotten, in March 1861, ‘Sunday last two gentlemen called here – strangers – one a Dane, Mr Steinhauer of Copenhagen, the other Mr Christy of London. They brought introductions from Professor Thomsen of Copenhagen – & we had a charming day for we kept them for dinner & had such talks over all our forgotten friends. To my grief they left next morning for London.'
¹¹
Henry Christy (1810–65) left his collection of ethnography to the British Museum. Steinhauer wrote the catalogue for the collection.