Walter D'Arcy Cresswell|
(1896 - 1960) New Zealand
Writer, poet, journalist
D'Arcy was born in Canterbury, NZ, in a prominent family, and was an architecture dropout, wounded in the Great War. He was convinced he was a poetic genius, determined to live by his gift:
Dear books, be all the nourishment I need!
A cousin of D'Arcy's on Monday, May 9, 1920, had introduced his handsome young cousin, the poet D'Arcy, 24 years old, to Charles Mackay, Mayor of Wanganui, apparently intending most of what followed.
I am so poor I scarce have means to buy
One meal a day. Alas! I must rely
On your fair thoughts for all my winter feed.
One day at last, like Venus' doves, you'll draw
My happy soul t' the star-empurpl'd glen.
Mackay invited to dinner at an hotel D'Arcy on the Thursday. It was then that Mackay invited Cresswell to visit the Sarjeant Art Gallery privately with him on the Friday. As a founder of the gallery, Mackay had his own key, and inevitably they must have spent time at the gallery's pride and joy, its marble reproduction of the ancient Greek nude, the "Wrestlers". The original "Wrestlers" is believed to be the work of an anonymous Greek sculptor of the 3rd century BC, now on display in the Tribune of the Uffizi in Florence.
Mackay then took D'Arcy back to his office, and showed him his collection of (female) nude photographs. What exactly happened then is shrouded in D'Arcy's self-serving account (signed by Mackay), but D'Arcy demanded that Mackay resign as Mayor, or else be exposed as a "pervert". In D'Arcy's defence, perhaps he too was being blackmailed. Mackay begged and pleaded for a delay at least, but D'Arcy demanded they meet again in the morning, when he would tell him when he must resign.
At half past nine on the Saturday morning, in Mackay's office, D'Arcy gave Mackay a week. Mackay pleaded for hours, threatened suicide, begged Cresswell to spare his family. D'Arcy forced him to write a confession, then, after further bargaining, a letter of resignation to be held in safe keeping for a month. They turned to leave. But...
"This is for you!" shouted Mackay, and shot Cresswell in the chest. Then he put the revolver in Cresswell's hand to give the appearance of suicide. As he was leaving, the "dying" man rose and pointed the revolver at him. Mackay slammed a door between them. Cresswell could not open it, so he flung a chair through the window and called for help.
Mackay rushed back and begged D'Arcy to shoot him, but D'Arcy discharged the revolver harmlessly. Passers-by rushed in. D'Arcy said he had "discovered a scandal" before he lost consciousness, and Mackay surrendered to the police. He at first claimed the revolver had gone off accidentally when he was showing it to D'Arcy, but the chair through the window quickly put paid to that story.
D'Arcy soon recovered (the bullet stayed lodged in his lung for 12 years) and gave the police a statement in which he claimed to have discovered "a certain disgusting feature" of Mackay's character, and led him on.
Mackay pleaded guilty to attempted murder on May 27 and was sentenced the next day. His lawyers said he had sought treatment from doctors and "metaphysicians" (presumably clergymen) for "homosexual monomania". As well as D'Arcy's harassment, Mackay had seen his lawyer the day before the shooting about an item in a local newspaper that "threatened him with exposure".
Mackay was sentenced to 15 years at hard labour and served seven, during which he was declared bankrupt and divorced by his wife, Wanganui's Mackay Street was renamed Jellicoe Street, and his name was removed from the Sarjeant Gallery's foundation stone. (It was replaced in 1985.)
The publicity had been entirely in D'Arcy's favour (we would say nauseatingly so: he was called a "wholesome-minded young man" while Mackay was excoriated in "Truth" newspaper for his "perverted and putrid pleasures"), but Cresswell went to England immediately after the trial, and continued to live off his family.
He married briefly and unsuccessfully, though one observer, Ormond Wilson, recorded that he liked "rough trade." Another, Geoffrey de Montalk, Count Potocki, knew him when he was living and sleeping with a young man called Edward. Potocki tells of D'Arcy pointing out a beautiful young man to a friend. "But what on earth would one say to him?" asked the friend. D'Arcy answered "I'd say, How much?"
He took up with the Bloomsbury set, having an extensive correspondence (since published) with Lady Ottoline Morrell.
Returning to New Zealand, he stayed at Eccleston Hill, Wellington, near Parliament, where he was visited by Charles Brasch in 1938, who was impressed by his "fine features and his manliness." He also impressed poet Mary Ursula Bethell, and Frank Sargeson, who had had his own brush with the law.
He published several volumes of poetry, written in a doggedly archaic style, not taken seriously then or now. To his credit, his verse comedy, The Forest (c. 1950), defends male homosexuality when that was outrageous and risky:
I'll never love a woman as I love George.
Mrs S. (in an altered voice):
I hope you're not like that!
Clive (disengaging his arm):
This craze for George has gone on long enough.
It gets unnatural.
Say it's unusual, regrettable, absurd,
Immoral, if you like; but never say
Unnatural! Why, it's Nature's strongest card,
Her ace, her trump! There's not an answer to it!
There's laws against such nonsense!
You bet there are!
The Devil sees to that, and men like Bishop!
Such laws are food for lawyers and blackmailers,
And cross-eyed stipend'ary magistrates,
For wowsers, womanisers, masturbators,
And married men with daughters.
There's laws all right!
What does love cares for laws? You ought to know!
Two men in love can laugh at all the World!
It isn't always love, Clive, so I'm told.
It can be love, whatever else it is:
The Forest (not surprisingly) also reveals a misogynistic streak:
The only love that's equal on both sides,
The only love that can be innocent,
Or free of every interest but itself.
Where men see first, women see further yet,
But left to themselves, their eyes are only gross.
It's when the Devil's their interpreter
His prose - as archaic as his poetry - includes two volumes of autobiography, Present Without Leave and The Poet's Progress in which he sets out his world-view, rejecting science (including the Copernican theory). He mentions the bullet in his lung, but not how it got there.
That they see best of all!
He died in 1960 by gassing, the coroner returning a charitable verdict of accidental death.
Source: by Hugh Young - © 1995-2002 Queer History New Zealand