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Ouida: Wilde’s lionne and ‘The Woman’s World’

Rita Severi (University of Verona)

·         First published in Anglistica Pisana VI, 1-2, 2009, pp.131-140. Originally presented at the International Conference ‘Ouida in Exile: The Stubborn Pilgrim’, Bagni di Lucca, 30th-31st August 2008.  Here republished September 2010 by kind permission.

Apparently Ouida’s books had no place in Wilde’s library or, at least, they did not survive to be put on sale at the auction of all of his goods which took place on Wednesday, April 24, 1895[1].  In his letters, in late October 1887, when he was already busy planning and organizing the new layout for the feminine magazine that would become ‘The Woman’s World’, Wilde complained to the actress Mrs Bernard Beere: ‘We have no lionne now but Ouida’[2].  In the 1880s Wilde was invited to Ouida’s salons at the Langham Hotel in London[3] and Ouida attended Lady Wilde’s salons along with other popular novelists of the period, as Katharine Tynan and Marie Corelli[4] who, later on, were to write for ‘The Woman’s World’.  Wilde, a great society ‘lion’ himself in this period for his own, indisputable, conversational skills, was often surrounded by women who appreciated him for his aesthetic stance and, during his lectures, outnumbered the men, who often caricatured, or maliciously criticized him.

In recent years much has been written about Oscar Wilde’s journalism and, in particular, his editorship of ‘The Woman’s World’, about which there are articles by Laurel Brake[5], Anya Clayworth[6], Diana Maltz[7], myself[8], and others[9] which, respectively, deal with gender, journalistic writing, aesthetics, social studies, and descriptions of its contents and its reception.  All of these critical comments have contributed a new chapter to ‘Wilde’ studies which needs to be expanded to include what I’d like to call Wilde’s feminism which is – and this is not the proper time to discuss it – very much alive, evident and directly connected to the project of ‘The Woman’s World’ .  From Wilde’s letters and from the articles that were published in the journal we can assume that the editor took pains to make the enterprise of the feminine magazine work along the lines of his own political, anarchic-socialist ideas as well as of his literary, hedonistic-aesthetic beliefs[10].  The journal, which Laurel Brake has admirably defined as a ‘ “class” periodical with a readership and discourse determined by shared characteristics, primarily gender, education and wealth’, contains all this and even more, but within the precincts of ‘The Woman’s World’ it seems very difficult to find and distinguish what she calls ‘the introduction of male homosexual discourse’[11], especially in the illustrations which show young men in languid poses, which she selects as proof of her argument.  The ‘poses’ made up the typical self-fashioning of the ‘artistic’ male of the 1890s, whatever his sexual inclinations (even Gabriele D’Annunzio often describes himself and is portrayed in languorous poses), and such illustrations were quite common and frequent in most magazines of the period which reproduced photographs of contemporary writers (e.g.  the cover of Richard Le Gallienne, The Romantic ‘90s)[12].  Besides, what would be the point? Wilde was addressing women and, as his ‘Literary and other Notes’ show, light-heartedly ‘acting’ in a feminine way: guiding, encouraging, suggesting, accepting both sides of an argument, writing vivacious reviews with the same effortless, brilliant voice that made him a favourite guest in the best houses of Mayfair.       

Being Wilde the perfect gentleman with the ladies, his offer to contribute to a new magazine for the cultivated woman was most often gladly accepted by his feminine acquaintances who received retribution not only in money but also in praise.  In the first two volumes of ‘The Woman’s World’, 1887-89[13], George Fleming (Julia Constance Fletcher) who serialized her novel, The Truth about Clement Ker, F. Mabel Robinson (7), Amy Levy (8), Ouida (4), Olive Schreiner (3), Clementina Black(2), Edith Nesbit(2), Mathilde Blind(2) were the most frequent contributors.  Ouida wrote two articles for the journal in 1888 when Janet Ross, whom she had considered a rival for the love of the Marchese Della Stufa and her enemy (she revengefully satirized her plight in Friendship, 1878), submitted an article entitled ‘A View near Taranto’ (1888, p.  542).   But the magazine was hospitable, and Ouida wrote two more articles in 1889.  

In March 1888 ‘The Woman’s World’ published Apropos of a Dinner[14] where Ouida, who had taken offence because the painter W.P. Frith in his Reminiscences (1887) remembered having dined with her at a table where ‘smoking began with the oysters’, flippantly lists some of the worst habits of English society: smoking, want of politeness, too many dinner parties and too few salons, too much food and, then, of course, people who attend these social gatherings and write about them in their memoirs.  She’s particularly outspoken against smoking because besides being ‘silly and injurious’ it separates the men from the women: a ‘boorish habit’[15].  According to Ouida the painter had remembered incorrectly because at her table smoking would be allowed, if it really must, after the rôti.  The article, although lively, is mere gossip and received a letter of protest from W.  P.  Frith, who was one of the first artists, in 1881, to portray the young Oscar Wilde, surrounded by a small crowd of adoring gazers at the Royal Academy, in a painting called ‘A Private View’.

Later in 1888 Ouida contributed a longer article on The Streets of London[16] which, for the joy of all the city’s inhabitants decrees ‘that London is the worst-lighted capital in the whole of Europe’; its ‘streets are dreary’; almost every London house has ‘the aspect of a menagerie combined with a madhouse’ with awful basements, ‘subterranean places in which nothing but the soul of a blackbeetle can possibly delight’; they are smelly with the ‘odours of cooking and eating’.  ‘There is too much eating in all London houses;- she complains-, too many servants sleep in them; the air is not admitted freely enough;’ because of the fear of burglars.  What a difference with the great capitals of the Continent: Paris and Rome! There are a few exceptions.  For instance consider the houses in Tite Street or Cadogan Square! Places well known to the editor.  If the wealthy people of London care so little for the beauty and atmosphere of their houses it is no wonder that they ‘do nothing whatever for the populace’.  Ouida notices very few trees lining the streets and even the Houses of Parlaiment need ‘quantities of trees’ to be planted all around them.  People should also, when outdoors, be amused by what she calls ‘small things’, like music.  For such entertainment London should follow the example of Munich.  The idea of an aesthetically qualified environment, where urban settings are beautified by pleasant and comfortable architecture mostly derives from Ruskin, Morris, and the Pre-Raphaelites, is also the topic of one of Wilde’s American lectures and will become one of the main tenets of his aesthetic Socialism. 

In ‘Literary and Other Notes’ (December 1887) where Wilde reviews the poems of Constance Naden, A Modern Apostle, about a young clergyman who preaches Pantheistic Socialism and converts everybody except the woman he loves, he cleverly underlines the fact that ‘the external forms of modern life are hardly, as yet, expressive of that spirit (…) Art, however, is a matter of result, not of theory’.  In this field, Ouida’s ideas are very simple and clear: ‘I am inclined to believe that the monotony of ugliness in the London streets – buildings constructed without an idea, without meaning, without a single grace, without any charm of light and shade—repeating its own nullity again and again and again , as an idiot repeats its mumbling nothings – affects the minds of those who live amongst it (…) and I believe that the hypochondria of English men and women is due much less to climate than it is to the absence of beauty about them in their daily lives, and to the unenjoying haste at which they live’.  When beauty is displayed freely in society the public becomes ‘a sharer’ and ‘a gainer’ in its bounty.  Unfortunately, though, ‘the populace’, imagined by Ouida, will partake of airy of beauty but not of its substance once it returns to its unhealthy and dreary quarters. 

In another article Ouida denounced the evils of war[17] by saying that ‘with every century of age there is added to the world the lust of war’ and that ‘all the oft and over-vaunted progress of the human mind chiefly results in the arming of nations one against an- other.’ She was very opinionated, but often mistaken.  Italy to her appeared to be incessantly preparing for war and thereby ‘she cripples and impoverishes every class of the nation’.  The United States she avowed, ‘had no war, but civil war’ and will never interfere with other states.  She avoided to mention the many wars that made England a powerful empire, except for a stray remark on the ‘plunder and conquest of Africa’.  The war craze has brought on other evils such as ‘the cry for anarchy (…) which gives excuse and vigour to socialism’.  More interesting for us is perhaps the idea of ‘the union of religion and slaughter’ and her disturbing conclusions that ‘there is no remedy for the disease of war to be looked for from any form of government’ and that two thousand years of Christianity have been unsuccessful in their message of peace.  

Field-Work for Women is the last article Ouida published in ‘The Woman’s World’ in 1889[18], quaintly illustrated by two reproductions of the author’s oil paintings that show ‘Contadino’s house on the Greve river, Scandicci’ and ‘Contadino’s house, Val De Gesca, Tuscany’.  She has been observing the Tuscan contadine[19] and has concluded that field- work is much healthier for women than factory work.  She has noticed that a certain fifty-five year old peasant woman, a widow, who cultivates her land, ploughs the fields, digs and hoes and plucks out weeds and, when she sits down, plaits straws, is better-looking than a Duchess.  ‘She is like a matron of old stepped out from the eclogues of Virgil or the pastorals of Theocritus.  ‘This woman has led a wholly natural life; obeying natural instincts, enjoying natural affections and fed by the pure, fresh, sweet air of a sunny hillside.’ ‘In Italy’, she adds, ‘field work is largely done by women’.  She concedes that rural life can be brutal, and Zola in La Terre has drawn a vivid, terrifying picture of the ‘bestial life’ of those toilers without any concession to hope.  George Sand in her novels of rustic life, instead, ‘has kept within the just medium’.  The Tuscan contadina is made to fit into a literary frame, but she remains real, a living example for Ouida of the self-sufficient and confident woman.  ‘Let it be distinctly understood, and repeated as often as possible, that field-work does not degrade women in any way, does not unsex them, does not expose them to any especial temptations, but does render the probabilities far greater of the children whom they bear being robust in frame and healthy in constitution’.  Perhaps she should have written ‘of the surviving children’.

Her readable, varied, opinionated, even prejudiced contributions to ‘The Woman’s World’, which constitute the beginning of her collection of essays published in 1895 with the title Views and Opinions, were certainly received with graciousness and gratitude by the editor who, in 1889, when Ouida’s novel Guilderoy was published, wrote a cheerful, elaborate and diplomatic review for the ‘Pall Mall Gazette’ (May 17,1889, p.3). 

Lord Guilderoy who lives in a Tudor mansion and is full of ennui and indifference to women of his class is encouraged to marry by his sister Hilda.  He had loved the lovely Duchess of Soria, a Venetian, but now she bores him with her letters.  One day, during the hunt, he sees some young farmers pursuing a fox cub who is saved by a young girl.  The girl with the fox cub takes refuge in a shelter and the farmers try to break in.  Guilderoy irrupts upon this scene and saves the young girl.  She is Gladys Vernon, like Miranda, the daughter of a lonely scholar who has given up all his possessions and wealth, after 400 miners died in one of his mines in South Wales.  Guilderoy discovers Gladys and is immediately struck by the purity of her beauty: he sees a Gainsborough, a Romley, a Carolus Duran! He proposes to her and she accepts, although her father speaks of the marriage unfavourably because she’s only seventeen.  Once married, Gladys and Guilderoy travel to Venice where they meet the Duchess Soria.  Gladys hardly talks, seems a simpleton and is judged by everybody in society as an ingénue, a naïve country girl.  Guilderoy is bored by Gladys and fascinated again by the Duchess[20].  Then other women appear on the scene, a certain Mrs Shiffton, a woman with a past, an adventuress who steals his heart.  Gladys is left to cry her heart out without any feminine comfort because Hilda despises her.  But Audrey, Guilderoy’s cousin is understanding and will eventually help her to patch up her marriage.  The plot of the naïve young girl seduced and abandoned by a bored or vicious aristocrat recurs in most of Ouida’s narratives and is typical of the popular or sensation novel. 

Ouida uses the same plot even in her shorter tales, for instance in Two Little Wooden Shoes (1874).  Other standard plot elements are intricate relationships; catastrophes and exaggeration or hyperbole of situation, description, character and voice. 

Wilde in his review of Guilderoy for the ‘Pall Mall Gazette’ states that ‘Ouida is the last of the romantics.  She belongs to the school of Bulwer Lytton and George Sand, though she may lack the learning of the one and the sincerity of the other.’ He’s very careful to modulate his opinion on a positive, harmonious note.  ‘Her last book, Guilderoy, (…) is an elaborate psychological study of modern temperaments (…).  She has ‘caught the tone and temper of the society of our day (…) The central figures are exaggerated, but the background is admirable’ and so are ‘Ouida’s aphorisms on women, love, and modern society.’

The friendly relationship between Ouida and Wilde, but also between Wilde and English society suddenly ended when Oscar was put to trial for ‘gross indecency’.  It wasn’t only Ouida who abandoned Wilde: there is not one note of feeling addressed to him by any of the writers of ‘The Woman’s World’.  With the exception of Ada Leverson, the women deserted him.  The freedom-fighter, economically emancipated, lover of mercy Ouida in 1896 wrote to her friend Mrs H.C. Huntington, who lived in Tuscany: ‘I knew Oscar Wilde very well; he sent me Dorian Gray[21], and I did understand it; I do not think he is a clever man; he was a successful poseur and plagiarist; he was essentially the cabotin.’

‘I have written three comedies in one year’ he said to a friend of mine, and my friend replied: ‘A great exercise of memory!’  The Italian papers assign him a much higher place than that which he held in London society.’[22] 

Yet the memory of Oscar Wilde and, in particular, of his works lingered in Ouida’s receptive mind.  In a novella, An Altruist, published in 1897 with four essays[23] there are quite a few reminiscences or intertextual parodies from Wilde’s masterpieces, from The Soul of Man Under Socialism (1891) to The Importance of Being Earnest (1895). 

The altruist Bertram is a wealthy young man who follows socialist ideals.  He falls in love with the daughter of a poor laundress, Annie Brown, but, painfully, soon realizes that her accent is impossible and that ‘her ankles are thick’[24].  He does not adopt the extreme solution of the poet Thomas Griffiths Wainewright, who, according to Wilde’s brilliant memoir in Pen, Pencil, and Poison, justified his murder of his lovely sister-in law, Helen Abercrombie by saying: ‘Yes; it was a dreadful thing to do, but she had very thick ankles.’[25], but he does leave her immediately.  He is then followed by Annie’s brother Sam, just like Sybil Vane’s brother James follows in pursuit of Prince Charming Dorian Gray, but in Ouida’s parody there are no consequences.  Bertram, though, is constantly challenged and defeated in his battle of ideas.  His butler, the clever Critchett is found stealing by Bertram and defends himself with the excuse that ‘I have only put your theories into practice, sir,’[26].  Critchett hints at those anarchic-socialist-Christian theories held by Wilde in The Soul of Man Under Socialism that said of the poor ‘Why should they be grateful for the crumbs that fall from the rich man’s table? (…) Disobedience, in the eyes of anyone who has read history, is man’s original virtue.  (…) a poor man who is ungrateful, unthrifty, discontented, and rebellious, is probably a real personality and has much in him.  He is at any rate a healthy protest’[27].  Critchett also resembles the butler Lane in The Importance of Being Earnest whose views on marriage, for instance, are considered ‘lax’, which makes Algernon consider, in the upside-down world of the play, that ‘Really, if the lower orders don’t set us a good example, what on earth is the use of them? They seem, as a class, to have absolutely no sense of moral responsibility.’[28], which is exactly what Bertram expects from Critchett. 

Bertram, who is a man with aspirations and a dwindling bank account, suddenly inherits a fortune from one of his Italian relative, who on his dying bed dictated a letter to his priest leaving all his possessions to the English young man with the final recommendation: ‘Take care of my horses and my dogs’.  The Italian relative shares Ouida’s love of animals – she was known, in Italy, as ‘la signora dei cani’[29] – and sounds very much like Ouida herself probably staging in the novel the very personal relationship she entertained (in her mind) with Oscar Wilde.  At first, Bertram wants to donate everything to Magdalen College, Oxford, which was also Oscar Wilde’s college, then he changes his mind and accepts the huge inheritance[30].   

Southwold, Bertram’s uncle encourages him to go to Italy: ‘And if you go and live on the Italian lands you can be self-sacrificing and as wretched as you like.  (…) Mosquitoes, malaria, malandrini, and the hourly probability of a shot from behind a hedge or a dagger thrust from an irate beggar will certainly provide you with constant material for the most active altruism.’[31].  Was Ouida thinking that a life in Italy would also have saved Oscar Wilde? Vincent O’Sullivan, who supplied the money that enabled Wilde to go to Naples in 1897, and who stayed on with him for a short time, when Lord Alfred Douglas left, thought this highly probable for the man. 

As for Wilde the writer, O’Sullivan stated that he ‘had little influence on the youth of the 1890s, and I have often thought that he did not care for their ideals.  He was sympathetically nearer to Ouida, that genius among women, than to the lucid, rather cynical Max Beerbohm, engaged in reducing human impulses – so far as his characters ever are impulsive – to unsentimental terms.  Wilde was not afraid to be sentimental.’[32]

The American writer Carl Van Vechten, an enthusiastic reader of Ouida and a follower of Oscar Wilde, believed that ‘the author of Lady Windermere’s Fan caught the trick of smart comedy dialogue from the talk of Lady Cardiff (a portrait of Ouida’s friend, Lady Orford), in Friendship[33].

Although we know that she died in poverty, Ouida had it all: fame while she lived and an enviable literary afterlife for some time[34].  In the writings of Ronald Firbank she is transformed into a camp figure as the model for the ludicrous impersonations of the many popular writers that appear in his novels[35].  Although Ronald Firbank never openly acknowledged his debt to Ouida in his writings or his letters, her style – and especially her keen interest in fashion – resonates throughout his stories.  For instance, in Caprice (1917), a novella about a canon’s daughter, Sarah Sinquier, who leaves her provincial home in Applethorp, for London and the stage, the protagonist seems to imitate Vera Zouroff’s dresses and attitudes in Ouida’s Moths (1880)[36].  She often poses like Vera and rehearses her acts, dressing up like Ouida’s protagonist[37]. 

At the turn of the century, Ouida’s books are rarely read and very few readers know her today by her full name.  Yet Ouida’s influence on late Victorian and ‘indirectly on an entire band of Edwardian novelists’[38] is startling. 

Wilde, instead, whom she did not fully appreciate, continues to live in Naples[39] the gay life of Lord Orkish in Firbank’s play The Princess Zoubaroff (1920), a title borrowed from characters belonging both to Wilde (Vera Sabouroff in Vera or the Nihilists) and Ouida (Sergius Zouroff in Moths).

v     Rita Severi, one of THE OSCHOLARS’ Italian editors who teaches English Literature at the University of Verona and was Visiting Professor in the USA in 2010, has recently published Rinascimenti. Shakespeare & Anglo/Italian Relations, Bologna, Patron, 2009 and the contribution "Astonishing in my Italian":Oscar Wilde's First Italian Editions, in The Reception of Oscar Wilde in Europe, ed. by S. Evangelista, London-New York, Continuum, 2010, pp.108-123 and pp.314-317.  For more on this, click here.


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[1] R.  Severi, La Biblioteca di Oscar Wilde, Palermo, Novecento, 2004.

[2] The Complete Letters of Oscar Wilde, ed. by M. Holland and R. Hart-Davis, New York, Henry Holt, 2000, p.331.

[3] Ouida’s lavish life at the hotel included a ‘salon’, mostly decorated by an exaggeration of fresh flowers, as W.H. Mallock remembers in his Memories of Men and Places (in ‘Harper’s Monthly Magazine’, 141: 841 (June 1920), pp.124-125), where Robert Browning, Lord and Lady Lytton, Violet Fane, Oscar Wilde, Lady Dorothy Nevill, Winifred Lady Howard of Glossop, Lady Llandaff and Mr Walter of the ‘Times’ convened, as reported by E. Lee, Ouida: A Memoir, London, T. Fisher Unwin, 1914, p.133; Y. French, Ouida.  A Study in Ostentation, London, Cobden-Sanderson, 1938, p.111; M. Stirling, The Fine and the Wicked. The Life and Times of Ouida, London, Gollancz, 1957, p.165.

[4] J. Melville, Mother of Oscar.  The Life of Jane Francesca Wilde, London, Murray, 1994, p.158.

[5] L. Brake, Oscar Wilde and the Woman’s World, in Subjugated Knowledges.  Journalism, Gender and Literature in the Nineteenth Century, London, Macmillan, 1994, pp.127-147.

[6] A. Clayworth, The Woman’s World: Oscar Wilde as Editor, in ‘Victorian Periodicals Review’, vol.20, n.2 (Summer 1997), pp.84-101 and in the same issue of the magazine see also S.  Green, Oscar Wilde’s The Woman’s World, pp.102-120.  Anya Clayworth has also introduced and edited O. Wilde, Selected Journalism, Oxford, Oxford World’s Classics, 2004, but has not included Ouida’s articles.

[7] D. Malz, Wilde’s The Woman’s World and the Culture of Aesthetic Philanthropy, in Wilde’s Writings: Contextual Conditions, ed. by J. Bristow, Toronto, University of Toronto Press, 2003, pp.185-211.

[8] R. Severi, Alla direzione di ‘The Woman’s World’, in La Biblioteca di Oscar Wilde, cit., pp.31-45.

[9] See the Ph.D Dissertation by Loretta Clayton, Fashionably Wilde.  Oscar Wilde and The Woman’s World, Washington University, August 2005.

[10] Although Wilde was ridiculed at the time for his involvement in feminine matters, he ‘treats the works and views of the women under his review with respect and candor’, cf.  G.  Schmidgall, The Stranger Wilde.  Interpreting Oscar, London, Abacus, 1994, p.72. 

[11] L. Brake, op.cit., p.127.

[12] R. Le Gallienne, The Romantic ‘90s, with an Introduction by H.  Montgomery Hyde, London, Robin Clark, 1993.  Max Beerbohm’s whimsical caricature of Le Gallienne is reproduced inside, on the page opposite the title.

[13] ‘The Woman’s World’ edited by Oscar Wilde, London Paris New York & Melbourne, Cassell & Co., 1888; 1889; 1890.  Only the 1888-89 volumes were edited by Wilde, but the 1890 volume contains articles by writers he personally contacted.  It is surprising to discover that Mike Ashley, The Age of the Storytellers.  British Popular Fiction Magazines 1880-1950, London, The British Library and Oak Knoll Press, 2006, pp.52-58, mentions Cassell as editor of other magazines but completely forgets ‘The Woman’s World’.

[14] ‘The Woman’s World’, cit., 1888, pp.193-194.

[15] Mario Praz, in his 1938 review of Y. French’s biography of Ouida, notes that the novelist had set two rules for her ‘salon’: ‘Politique défendue; cigarettes permises’, in Studi e svaghi inglesi, Milano, Garzanti, 1983, p.242.

[16] Ibidem, cit., 1888, pp.481-484.

[17] War in ‘The Woman’s World’, cit., 1889, pp.171-173.

[18] ‘The Woman’s World’, cit., 1889, pp.339-342.

[19] Ouida’s infatuation with the rural Tuscan world is evident in such novels as Pascarel (1873), Signa (1875), A Village Commune (1881) and In Maremma (1882).  For this last novel see the well documented and informative introduction by M.  Ciacci to the Italian edition, Ouida, In Maremma, Firenze, Semper Editrice, 2008, pp.5-24. 

[20] Gary Schmidgall, op.cit., pp.99-100 notices that when Wilde wrote the review ‘he was probably already beginning to behave like Guilderoy’ and reproduces the plot of a play, entitled ‘The Haven’, that the writer had sketched while on vacation with his family at Worthing and submitted to George Alexander in 1894, similar to the plot of Ouida’s Guilderoy.  ‘The Haven’ would later be totally transformed into The Importance of Being Earnest.

[21] For Ouida’s influence on Dorian Gray, see T. Schaffer, ‘Origins of the Aesthetic Novel: Oiuda, Wilde and Popular Romance’, in Wilde Writings: Contextual Conditions, ed. by J.  Bristow, cit., pp.212-229

[22] E.  Lee, Ouida.  A Memoir, cit., p.157.

[23] Ouida, An Altruist and Four Essays, Leipzig, Tauchnitz, 1897.  The essays are: Garden, pp.153-167; O Beati Insipientes, pp.169-214; The New Woman, pp.215-241; Death and Pity, pp.243-286.

[24] Ibidem, p.88.

[25] Complete Works of Oscar Wilde, Introduced by M.  Holland, Glasgow, HarperCollins, 2003, p.1105.

[26] Ouida, An Altruist, cit., p.108.

[27] Complete Works of Oscar Wilde, cit., p.1176.

[28] Complete Works of Oscar Wilde, cit., p.358.

[29] I. Greenlees, Mrs. Stisted e Ouida a Bagni di Lucca, in Inghilterra e Toscana nell’Ottocento, Atti del Congresso di Bagni di Lucca per il Cinquantenario del British Institute of Florence, 22-24 settembre 1967, Firenze, La Nuova Italia, pp.71-77).  One of her admirers, Wilfrid Scawen Blunt, in My Diaries Being a Personal Narrative of Events, 1888-1814, Part One 1888 to 1900, London, Martin Secker, 1909, p.450 went to visit Ouida with Sir Sidney Cockerell, on 2 April 1900 at her villa in S. Alessio.  The driver understood who she was when the people along the way told him to go to ‘the lady with the many dogs’.  Blunt then met ‘a little old lady dressed in white (seated at a small table, as one sees in the opening scene of a play) surrounded by dogs.’  See also the account of a visit to Ouida in 1900 by the American Dr. George Charles Williamson, Behind my Library Door.  Some Chapters on Authors, Books, and Miniatures, New York, E.P. Dutton and Company, 1921, pp.1-14.  She was also a bird-watcher ante litteram.

[30] Ouida, An Altruist, cit., p.134.

[31] Ouida, An Altruist, cit., p.150.

[32] V. O’Sullivan, Aspects of Wilde, London, Constable & Co., 1936, p.177.

[33] C. Van Vechten, Ouida, in Escavations a Book of Advocacies, New York, A.  Knopf, 1926, p.62.

[34] Carl Van Vechten remembers that reading Ouida was ‘the pleasure of the ingenious chambermaids’ and the not so secret passion of many well-known writers, like the American Joseph Hergesheimer, Stephen Crane, the English, Max Beerbohm (who devoted an essay to her), Norman Douglas (who dedicated his first book, Unprofessional Tales to her), Edgar Fawcett (see his Agnosticism, Belford, Clarke & Co., 1889), Vernon Lee, G.  S.  Street (in ‘The Yellow Book’, An Appreciation of Ouida, July 1895), Arthur Symons, Wilfrid Scawen Blunt and Auberon Herbert, in Excavations, cit., p.48.

[35] Cf.  Hester Q. Tail in A Study in Temperament; Iris Iquavi in The New Rythum, in R.  Firbank, The New Rythum and Other Pieces, Introduction by A.  Harris, London, Duckworth, 1962, pp.21-29, and pp.71-107; Miss Valley in Vainglory; Geraldine O’Brookmore in Inclinations; Lady Violet Sleepwell, in Caprice; Mrs.  Chilleywater and Eva Schnerb, in The Flower Beneath the Foot; Diana Beira Baixa in Concerning the Eccentricities of Cardinal Pirelli and Blanche Negress in The Princess Zoubaroff, in The Complete Ronald Firbank, London, Duckworth, 1961 (reprinted in 1973; first Italian bi-lingual edition, with an introduction, ed. by R.  Severi, Palermo, Novecento, 2003). 

Nina Hamnett, who had met Firbank on two occasions, refers in her autobiography (Is She a Lady? A Problem in Autobiography, London, Allen Wingate, 1955, p.157) that in 1949 a reporter from the ‘Daily Graphic’, who was about to write an article on Ouida, asked her ‘When did she write the ‘Pricess Zoubouroff? (sic!)’.  See also E. Bigland, Ouida the Passionate Victorian, London and New York, Jarrolds, 1950, p.179, who states that ‘Ouida’s Princess Napraxine was a novel in advance of its time – if it had been published fifty years later people would have attributed it to Ronald Firbank.’

[36] Moths, as Franco Marucci has argued, is really a key novel in Ouida’s production because as a play it reached the provinces on both sides of the Ocean.  The young D.W.  Griffith starred in a stage production of Moths with The Meffert Stock Company, on September 6, 1897, in Louisville, Kentucky, cf. R. Merritt, Rescued from a Perilous Nest: D.W. Griffith’s Escape from Theatre into Film, in ‘Cinema Journal’, 21, no.  1, Fall 1981, pp.2-30.  Even James Joyce must have read Moths or glanced at it in his youth.  Mario the tenor- Corrèze in the novel – makes an appearance in Ulysses ‘with rougy cheeks, doublet and spindle legs.’, cf. J. Joyce, Ulysses.  The 1922 text, ed. by J.  Johnson, Oxford, Oxford World’s Classics, (1st. ed. 1993) 2008, p.113. 

[37] For instance, compare this passage from Ouida, Moths, Leipzig, Tauchnitz, 1880, vol.  3, p.13:

‘Vera was in white morning dress with a white mantilla of old Spanish lace about her head and throat; she moved with serene and rather languid grace;’

with R. Firbank, Caprice, in The Complete Firbank with an Introduction by A.  Powell, London , Duckworth, 1973, p.320:

‘She pulled about her a lace Mantilla shawl.  It was though it were Andalusia wherever she wrapped it on.’

Firbank borrows names from Ouida, for instance Nadine (Princess Nelaguine) from Moths is also one of the main characters in his comedy The Princess Zoubaroff.  A comparison of their works will certainly yield very interesting results. 

[38] Cf.  Tag-jung Kim, Positioning Ouida at the Turn of the Century, in ‘Modern Studies in English Language and Literature’, vol.  51, no.  1, Feb.  2007, pp.519-533.

[39] After David Hare’s The Judas Kiss (1998), a play about Oscar Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas in Naples, it seems that Rupert Everett is about to stage a new drama on the same subject.