In March 1954 Peter Wildeblood, a London journalist, was one of five men charged with homosexual acts in the notorious Montagu Case, as it came to be known. Wildeblood was sentenced to eighteen months for homosexual offences, along with Lord Montagu and Major Michael Pitt-Rivers. The other two men were set free after turning Queen¿s Evidence. In this book, first published in 1955, Peter Wildeblood tells the story of his childhood and schooldays, his war service and university days, his life as a journalist, his arrest, trial and imprisonment, and finally his return to freedom. In its honesty and restraint it is eloquent testimony to the inhumanity of the treatment of homosexuals in Britain only a generation ago. Probably the first book on homosexuality to reach a mass audience in Britain, Against the Law had a direct influence on the Wolfenden Committee, whose Report in 1957 recommended that homosexual acts between consenting adults in private be legalised, proposals which were finally passed into law in 1967.
Date of Birth 19 May 1923, Alassio, Liguria, Italy Date of Death 14 November 1999, Victoria, British Columbia, Canada
Educated at Radley College, Oxfordshire and then Trinity College, Oxford.
Served in the Royal Air Force during the Second World War.
In January 1954, he was arrested by British police and charged with homosexual offences. He was sentenced to 18 months in prison. After his release, he became a campaigner for gay rights, writing the book "Against The Law", and his contribution to the Wolfenden Committee's report on homosexuality. This report paved the way to the decriminalization of homosexual acts between adult males in the UK in 1967.
In 1994, suffered a stroke which left him speechless and a quadriplegic.
It is hard to imagine that the happenings in this book took place just 60 years ago; how the world has thankfully changed on such issues since then.
Trumped up charges were laid at Peter Wildeblood's door, thanks to two of his so-called friends turning Queen's evidence - and then getting away with any misdemeanours (and there were some) that they had committed. Wildeblood tells the lead up to his being charged with his supposed crimes with complete honesty and without a trace of malice.
He was subsequently charged, on mainly trumped up charges, along with Lord Edward Montagu and Michael Pitt-Rivers and the police acted illegally in searching their premises prior to their trial. However, the judge chose to ignore the issues involved in that little circus.
Most of those close to the case felt that the three defendants would be found not guilty but it was not the case and, found guilty, they were sentenced to prison. Wildeblood served his time in Winchester and Wormwood Scrubs and he gives a full account of his time at the latter with mention of many of the prisoners, and warders, that he encountered there.
He tells the story in a most dispassionate way, not feeling sorry for himself but simply telling the truth about how he felt and what he was. He has to be admired for his courage in doing so and when he went to prison he feared that his fellow prisoners would not understand.
However, they did and treated him almost regally and he made many friends there while also petitioning the Government to do something about homosexual laws in this country. Eventually a committee was set up to investigate and before Wildeblood left prison he wrote to offer himself as a witness.
When he left prison he was worried how he would be received in the outside world and once again he was surprised and pleased to find that most people had complete and utter sympathy for him and had not lost any respect for him, indeed quite the opposite - and not surprisingly. He therefore found his rehabilitation into the outside world quite uplifting.
His final comment in the book is 'A man born with some defect of the body does not try to deny or to conceal his handicap; he acknowledges it, and does the best he can. That, I decided, was what I must do for myself.'
Peter Wildeblood has certainly done that and his story is gripping, heart wrenching, almost tearful and most emminently readable.
4 1/2 stars rounded up. Though some of the author’s opinions were understandably antiquated so many of them were so insightful and ahead of his time. He was a truly unsung and unselfish activist. A fascinating character study and a historical figure I knew nothing about.
Everyone should read this book, gay or straight. It is the story of a modern-day witchhunt, and it almost destroyed the lives of three men. Some might say it did destroy two of them. The book is dated, I know my hackles raise at the use of words such as 'normal', but the message is important and there are still lessons to be learnt from what Wildeblood went through.
A courageous book to publish in 1955, it still holds relevance today as we reflect on how far we have come in 70 years, and how far we haven't come.
Written by a publicly declared "invert", it would be two years until the Wolfenden Report, commissioned in part in response to the trial of the author, recommended the decriminalisation of homosexual acts between consenting adults in the UK, and a further 10 years until that recommendation was enacted by the Sexual Offences Act 1967.
Wildeblood's defence of his "condition" makes an interesting read, he is clearly working within the framework of his society, attempting to convince those not already convinced that while they may have seen homosexuality as a sin, that did not make it the province of the criminal law. In this attempt, he distances himself from the "effeminates" and the promiscuous, essentially arguing that homosexuals (the good kind) are not all that different from "normals". This argument is obviously of its time, and incidentally wouldn't have been out of place in Tasmania in the 1990s. But it reminds us of the change that people like Wildeblood have effected in our society by arguing incrementally for change and how remarkably far attitudes on the LGBTQ+ community have come.
The other main part of this book relates to the conditions in English gaols in the 1950s. This makes for equally interesting reading with Wildeblood's vivid first-hand account of the facilities, attitudes of the wardens, opportunities to reform, and the diverse life-experiences of the inmates. While I hope both in England and other English speaking countries things have moved on from the antiquated Victorian facilities still present in the 1950s, on other measures, such as addressing mental health issues and assisting prisoners in their rehabilitation, I fear we have sadly come not far enough.
A very well written book - no wonder it was a best seller in its day. I was only able to get my hands on a very well used edition of the book. [I note it was on the 'reserved list' of an English library - not for everyone's viewing. I think the fact that it was not on the shelves of the library and had to be requested gives some insight into the mindset of the 60s and 70s on this particular subject]. The reality is that the book is a straight forward account of Wildeblood's court case and his subsequent incarceration - how this came about, the characters he met and the political and social situation at the time of the trial. Very enlightening read. The second part of the book on prison and prison reform could have been written yesterday for all the changes that have taken place - at least in Ireland. He quotes extensively from newspaper reports and political speeches made at the time - some of them bizarre at best which make right wingers today seem very very tame in comparison.
As it says on the book cover, this is a "classic, courageous memoir" and I couldn't agree more.
It is the memoir of an extraordinarily brave man, a man who by saying when arrested, "I am a homosexual" helped set in motion a chain of events that made my life, and the lives of other LGBTQI+ in the UK and indirectly in the US, infinitely more open and bearable. His arrest and trial with two other codefendants, took place in 1954, in my lifetime. The enormous changes that have taken place in society are due in no small measure to his courage and openness. Wildeblood, who died in 1999, was also a creature of his time and some of the statements in the book made me cringe, but would I would probably have made those same statements trying to figure things out in the 1960s and 1970s. Other statements were insightful and prescient.
Wildeblood was a journalist and this book is easy reading, in style if not in subject matter.
I'd never heard of the gentleman, nor the book, until stumbling upon it in a charity shop. However, to put it simply, one could argue that this book is one of the most important books in recent British legal and social history. A defining story/memoir/life that helped shape the future for LGBTQ+ people, and particularly gay men. A difficult read, but an important one.
An amazingly well-written and completely engrossing book, written by the ex-foreign correspondent for the Daily Mail after his trial and imprisonment for homosexuality in a massive scandal in the early 50s (whipped up deliberately by the authorities for maximum public impact) A completely essential, I would say fundamentally important read in terms of LGBT history in the UK. As Matthew Paris writes in the 1999 edition's preface, Peter Wildeblood was virtually one of the first men in history to publicly come out as gay (in his trial) - at a time when male homosexuality was illegal in the UK. The book was published in 1955 on his release from Wormwood Scrubs prison and was an important text for the Wolfenden commission - as Wildeblood intended. It was his mission to have the laws changed.
It's really fascinating as well for what he couldn't say in the book - as it would incriminate his friends. Written with anger but not a trace of self-pity he exposes the hypocrisy and stupidity of the laws and their execution with biting wit. A feature of his writing is that he always allows opponents respect and courtesy, but allows their actions to speak for themselves. His editor at the Daily Mail was called as a character witness in his trial. The editor said in court Wildeblood was a very good journalist but he had always regarded him as "a bit effeminate". Wildeblood notes drily that his editor was extremely proud of his extensive collection of flamboyant waistcoats, but chose to dress soberly that day in court.
Wildeblood asserts the anti-gay pogrom in early 1950's Britain was at the instigation of the USA - the client state obediently responding to its master's wishes (a similar anti-gay witch hunt was happening in the USA at the time). Anti-gay laws are, of course, at root inspired by biblical and religious prohibitions but apparently the Church of England had already stated firmly that they didn't believe in the criminalisation of homosexuality - adultery in the church's view was a far more socially damaging sin and it wasn't criminal.
An inspiring, terrifying, wonderful and dreadful book. The real-life story of a famous British trial for the serious crime of homosexuality in the early 1950s. The author, Peter Wildeblood, madly, foolishly and heroically refused to 'go quietly'. He stood up in court and openly said "I am a homosexual" - which was really unheard of at the time. His is the story of prejudice and persecution which, due largely to his expression of low for another man, ended up putting him in prison for 18 months. This book not only provides a unique insight into the terrible injustice of our recent past (the authorities wanted to try to "cure" him of his "perversion") but it also serves to remind us how recent and how fragile our rights are.
There’s a word - that tiresomely I can’t remember - for the satisfying phenomenon of someone having a surname that perfectly suits their character or vocation. Wildeblood is the perfect example. What surname could better suit a fired-up activist than Wildeblood!
Like many people whose names survive them as famous rally-cries of protest, Peter Wildeblood’s activism was, in fact, somewhat accidental. Unlike his surname, Peter Wildeblood wasn’t a hotheaded protester. As he explains in his autobiography, his entire disposition had always been characterised by an eagerness to fit in, to pass unnoticed, to be “normal” (his words) - not to stand on a public platform proclaiming defiance.
Yet knowing the high-profile campaigning role he was destined to take up following one of the most notorious trials of the 20th century, it’s difficult not to look for “early signs” of Peter Wildeblood’s highly sensitive, non-conforming behaviour in his childhood and school days. Things like:
- His pathological fear of putting food in his mouth after his nanny told him about a little boy who was devoured by the worms contained in sweets.
- The “refuge in friendship with other outcasts” at his boarding school, forming with other non-sporty types “a kind of secret society - a childish underworld” (p11).
- The “extraordinary lengths” he went to, to “conceal inner feelings” from his parents who “never suspected” how unhappy he was (p12).
- And interestingly, his distancing himself from schoolboy fumblings (“senior boys discovered experimenting together in the boiler-house” p16) which he describes with distaste, searching instead “for an ideal companion; someone strong, courageous and reliable, who could supply all the deficiencies of my own character” (p37).
By early adulthood Peter was learning how to “cover up” his sense of being different by over-compensating on conventional masculinity. For example:
- He withheld the letter from his heart specialist excusing him from military service and volunteered with the RAF as an officer pilot.
- He signed up as a meteorologist covering the most remote airfields in Africa, living in a mud hut with a tamed cheetah.
- He identified for the first time as “gay” (“apparently an American euphemism for homosexual”) with a naval officer who “did not look in the least like the popular idea of homosexual, bring well-built, masculine and neatly dressed” (p23).
The novel is a powerhouse of thoughtful, penetrating and sobering observations about human nature - observations that would often have been quite shocking back in the 1950s, an era when human nature was regularly suppressed. I found these thoughts and truths particularly striking:
- For so many people their attitude to homosexuality “was not one of particular condemnation or of particular tolerance; it was simply that they had not given the matter much thought, because they did not believe that they knew any homosexuals” (p32).
- “The worst snobs, I have found, are those men and women who are unsure of their own social position” (p36).
- “The homosexual world knows no [class] boundaries - which is precisely why it is so much hated and feared” (p26).
- “So many people have written about homosexuality in a spirit of self-pity and shame that I feel bound to confess that I thoroughly enjoyed my adventures” (p27).
- “A woman can never quite believe in homosexual desires; or rather, she underestimates them in the light of her own superior attractions” (p33).
- “I knew plenty of people who had received Education without being sufficiently intelligent to benefit from it” (p38).
Things that shocked and depressed me in the novel were manifold. Of course, this was exactly what Peter Wildeblood had intended and it’s why his novel is still so powerful and stirring. He was happily able to rely on the wider public’s outrage not over what consenting adults get up to in private but over the extent of the Establishment cover-up. For example:
- Early morning police raids on properties were carried out without warrants and with the national press tipped off in advance.
- Lord Montagu and Peter Wildeblood were prevented for hours from phoning a solicitor following their arrests - a basic legal right.
- Just “by chance” the jury for the trial happened to be all male - self evidently unbalanced and unrepresentative.
- The trial judge accepted only with silent, grim reluctance that Lord Montagu’s passport had evidently been doctored by the police.
- McNally and Rawlinson had been terrified and bullied into turning King’s evidence, and coerced and schooled by the Crown into exactly what to say.
- The so-called “orgy” at the beach hut was actually just beer & sandwiches.
- Journalists who were themselves gay filed some of the most vitriolic and sensationalist copy.
- The pseudo-scientific language used by the authorities - with separate categories for homosexual, invert and pervert - wasn’t even applied consistently by the Court and the authorities. (The Prosecution’s question which Wildeblood answered affirmatively, and at that time explosively, was whether he was an “invert”.)
- The letters between Wildeblood and McNally were emotionally charged but made no reference to anything physical in their relationship.
- More shocking to the authorities than Wildeblood’s homosexual inclination was his close friendship with a so-called “social inferior” - mixing with the plebs was the greatest threat to social order.
- The squalor of the prison with its shocking sanitation, and the hopeless drudgery of prison life, even while the authorities spoke reassuringly of reform and rehabilitation.
On the other hand, there were things that surprised and cheered me:
- The support Wildeblood had from his parents who sold everything they owned to pay for his defence (touchingly he dedicates the book “For my Mother and Father”).
- Shortly before the Montagu/Wildeblood case the Church of England had published a report condemning the “persecution in addition to the prosecution” of homosexual men and concluding that “although homosexual behaviour between consenting adults amounted to a sin, it was no worse - indeed, perhaps less harmful in its social effects - than adultery or fornication” (p64).
- The Church of England report - who knew! - went on to state that “There was certainly no grounds for treating [homosexuality] as a crime. The law as it stood did not merely fail to act as a deterrent; it encouraged blackmail, suicide and the corruption of the police.”
- The understanding, acceptance and kindliness of his fellow prisoners; and the respect and courtesy shown by his new neighbours in working-class Islington (not so working class now … )
Peter Wildeblood’s account is all the more readable, engaging and convincing because, in the face of all his shocking experience, he doesn’t get shouty and self righteous: “I met wicked men and foolish men, and cowards and men whose courage made me feel ashamed, and from each of them I gained a particle of strength, or tolerance, or compassion. I saw much to make me angry, but much, too, that made me glad to be a member of the human race” (p164).
Finally, with all the injustice and cruelty described in the book, it could easily have become overwhelming. Instead there’s always a lightness of touch - and humour. For example, at the very moment Peter Wildeblood is in the dock fighting for his freedom, he’s still able to see the comedy of life - and the ridiculousness of the pompous barristers whose bewigged heads suddenly remind him of nothing more ordinary than a “field of cauliflowers” …
An important document in British gay history and a valuable reminder of the progress we've made.
I recently saw a very good one man play called The Act, which zips along 3 periods gay history - the present day, when we are within a whisker of full equality; the 50s when a man could be imprisoned for 'offending public decency'; and the 60s, when MPs in the Commons debated the 'problem' of homosexuality, particularly the high incidences of blackmail. I've had this book on my Kindle for a while but seeing this play put it further up my list.
There is something I enjoy about 50s gay culture, from the distance of history - but I wouldn't want to live it. As Wildeblood points out, it is those gay men who want long-lasting and loving relationships who leave a paper trail (in the form of love letters) who got caught. By 1954, when Wildeblood was sentenced and imprisoned, public sentiment was turning in favour of leniency, including Wildeblood's fellow prisoners. Wildeblood is an eloquent and witty writer, and his unashamed honesty is remarkable especially given the time he was writing in (1955).
I've benefitted from the campaigning of people such as Wildeblood, who bravely identified himself as homosexual in court and was therefore well placed to give testimony to the Wolfenden committee, set up following the Montagu case (of which Wildeblood was a part). That was one strike for fairness, and many more have followed. I now live with my partner, I'm out to friends, family and colleagues. I survived Clause 28. Men before suffered far worse, and I think it's important to remember that.
You might think that a book written so long ago would have lost its impact. Times have changed. Homosexuals are no longer imprisoned because of who they are, but aspects of this book make it, I believe, a must read for everyone. Being a journalist, the author has the ability to see the 'story' in his experiences, so material which might be boring or trivialised becomes a surprisingly entertaining read. He also bring a (true) journalist's impartiality to the subject. Those who moved for his incarceration were just "doing their job with the law as it stood". Thanks, in part, to this case and the author's work afterwards, this law changed. But central to the story is also a vivid and disturbing look at prison conditions and life inside. This isn't the stereotypical story of gay men fearing prison because of the way they will be treated. His experiences were quite different. Maybe it's a British thing, or reflecting the total segregation, but it was interesting how he received more acceptance inside than outside. I thoroughly recommend this book. Great read.
This book should be compulsory reading, especially for those too young to remember how things were, not only pre-1967 when the law made a major stride forward, but also for some considerable time afterwards while 'Society' adjusted to the changes. It is beautifully written and was, in its time, a very brave memoir of what it was like to be gay when to be so was illegal and gays were criminalised and persecuted.
I had been aware of this book for a fair while but had avoided reading it as I [wrongly] supposed that it would seem dated. I decided to do so only after reading Lord Montague's own brilliant memoir 'Wheels within Wheels' in which he referred to both Peter Wildeblood and the book itself. This book not only shows the extraordinary climate of the time and the lengths to which the police [and the courts] went to in order to secure a conviction but also the way in which the prison system operated.
The Montague case is one of the watershed moments in queer British history, and I've been meaning to read Wildeblood's account of it for years and I am so very glad I did.
'Against the law' was obviously written with the goal of bringing people on side with the idea of legalising male homosexuality, and there are many parts where Wildeblood is obviously hammering home this point. I've read other books with the same goal, and found them dry. This is a book written by a career writer, who has used every ounce of his skill to craft a narrative of his own life, pouring his soul onto the page in the hope that he can make the world better for him and his kind. It is beautifully written, expertly raising both the reader's sympathy and anger in turns.
It is a fantastic read, written by an intensely brave man. A must-read for anyone interested in queer history, the prison system, or being an empathetic human.
Anyone who knows me even vaguely will be aware that I am completely opposed to 'bad history', that is looking at the events of centuries ago through the prism of 21st century spectacles.
However, I am prepared to do this in this case, as many other, more civilised countries chose to conclude that what two consenting adults did in the privacy of their own environment was of no concern to anyone else.
That the UK police force chose instead to persecute homosexuals - at least partly as a way of keeping their arrest rates high - was a complete disgrace, especially since so-called ordinary citizens seemed to be largely of the opinion that there was nothing remotely criminal about being gay.
What Wildeblood and others suffered as recently as the 1960s is a blot on Britain's otherwise perfectly decent record of human rights.
I'd expected a diatribe about the laws criminalising homosexuality - God knows he had every reason to do so. Instead, it's a straightforward account (via a short, potted history of his childhood and miserable school years) of his trial for "the abominable crime" followed by a description of his time in prison, first in Winchester and then in Wormwood Scrubs. As a journalist, he knows how to write a readable, page-turning account and his delineation of the horrors and iniquities of the prison system are heartfelt (and just as valid today). The book is very much of its time, so he talks about his "tragic disability" of being homosexual, but argues persuasively against the laws of the time. I found this account moving and an important reminder why we should never forget our recent past
Oh, I love this book so painfully much! Wildeblood's bravery, determination, humour and passion for social justice shine through in every word. Not only is this important piece of history, but it's also a wonderful book that makes me love its author.
Summary (not spoilery):
Wildeblood was one of three defendants in a high profile sodomy trial in the 1950s. This book is an overt piece of activism written and published to a wide audience in order to push for the decriminalisation of (male) homosexual acts in the UK. In it, he talks about his experiences as a gay man, and the trial and , and he argues for legal and prison reform.
In his closing words of his memoir, Peter Wildeblood states that the “right I claim for myself, and for all those like me, is the right to choose the person I love.” (175). As a gay man in 1950’s England that was not a right Wildeblood had to assert in the face of the law. For being a gay man in England Wildeblood was convicted to a term of 12 month’s imprisonment. More specifically, he was convicted of “conspiracy to incite certain male persons to commit serious offences with male persons”.
Wildeblood’s account, first published in 1955 shortly after his release, gives a first-hand account of his life and experience with a focus on his arrest, trial and experience in prison.
What made Wildeblood’s legal defence different from his co-accused was that while the case was defended it was a key part of his approach to the case that he publicly acknowledged his homosexuality – an astoundingly brave position at the time. The reason for this is because he was conscious a public debate on the criminalisation of homosexuality may be around the corner and that the this would better enable him to contribute to such a debate. And contribute he did as Wildeblood was a key witness in the inquiry that would produce the Wolfenden Report in 1967.
By profession Wildeblood, who died in 1999, was a journalist. This does come across in the text which I found a really engaging and well-written account. Reading this some seventy years after first being published certainly causes some eyebrows and Wildeblood himself exhibits some prejudicial opinions but as a narrative it’s power is not diminished at all. A recommended read.
This a harrowing and mindblowing book, written by a man who gets sent to prison for being gay. Especially considering this happend only 70 years ago and some of the rhetoric used by the people who try and defend imprisoning gay people feels eerily similar to what right wing influencers are still pushing these days.
But there is also hope. While Peter Wildeblood starts his book in a terrible place and is likelywise filled with internalised homophobia, throughout the book you witness a journey towards acceptance, identity and pride in being oneself. I HIGHLY recommend this book to anyone and everyone.
Fascinating read. Set during the time that my great grandparent would only remember, one has to continually remind themselves of when it was written.
Definate recommendation. Very interesting insight into gender conformaty from a time in which transness was completely incomprehensible, but also the situation that the queer community found themselves in, long before section 28, or the AIDS crisis
A fantastic insight into what life for homosexuals was like pre the decriminalisation. Its interesting to note that whilst Wildeblood does discuss the changes in society towards homosexuality, he doesn't seem to feel any hope in there being a change. He gives an honest and a very modern feel to his writing which made it an enjoyable read. Balanced and fair I will certainly be looking to read some of his other works now.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I imagine at the time this book was written it was the first of its kind. Advocating for prison reform for individuals penalized for sodomy, this is the memoir of one man’s experience in the UK. It was a difficult book for me to get through with how it was written, I understand the importance, but the cliffs notes on this one would do
Brave, inspiring, heartbreaking and of simply monumental importance, this book is an incredible testament to Wildeblood's determination and courage which has lost none of its impact in the decades since it was written.
Read a short extract for a university module on queer literature – will no doubt be returning to the full book, which will no doubt boost the rating to a 5* too. Fascinating – and equally shocking – read in just the short extract I read.
A brave, honest and beautifully crafted account of his trial and conviction! Such an important insight into the 50s Britain where homosexuality was considered a crime and perversion