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Updated: June 16, 2025
"Every body knew Mr. Oakley," was the evasive answer. "He was a remarkable man quite a genius, with all the faults of a genius. He drank, he ate opium, he " "Nay, he is dead," faintly said Aunt Maria. "Which, you mean, is a good reason why I should speak no more about him. I obey you, Miss Grey." "But his daughter? Did you say you knew his daughter?" pursued Miss Gascoigne. "Oh yes, casually.
Her brother Isaac had died at that awful camp and she herself would not have lived had Mr. Oakley not been so good to her. He was now comforting her with the assurance that he would have the foot cared for by a doctor as soon as they should reach the settlement; and she, believing him, was trying to be brave and patient.
The first thing I noticed was that the window gave on a wall of white tiles. In the middle of the somewhat dingy apartment was a vast, square table, and at this table sat a pale, tall man, whose youth astonished me for the firm of Oakley and Dalbiac was historic.
She omitted much that has been told in this chronicle. But she disclosed the essential fact, that Napoleonic Mr. Scobell had tried to force her into a marriage with a man she did not she hesitated at the word did not respect, she concluded. Mrs. Oakley regarded her inscrutably for a while before replying. "Respect!" she said at last. "I have never met a man in my life whom I could respect.
"Tell 'em, oh, tell 'em, Miss Leslie, dat you don't believe it. Don't let 'em 'rest Berry." "Why, Fannie, I can't do anything. It all seems perfectly plain, and Mr. Oakley knows better than any of us, you know." Fannie, her last hope gone, flung herself on the floor, crying, "O Gawd! O Gawd! he 's gone fu' sho'!" Her husband bent over her, the tears dropping from his eyes.
George J. Gould, Mrs. T. J. Oakley Rhinelander, Mrs. W. K. Vanderbilt, Mrs. John Jacob Astor, Mrs. Peter Cooper Hewitt, Mrs. M. Orme Wilson, Mrs. Simon Baruch, Mrs. Oliver Herford, Mrs. Wm. Reynolds Brown, and Mrs. Douglas Robinson. When this storm had subsided, Henry Ford rose to renew the pacifist attack.
Hiding up to the house, he gave the old familiar hail, "Whoo-e-e." The door opened, and with the flood of light that streamed out came the tall form of Brian Oakley. "Hello! Seems to me I ought to know that voice." The artist laughed nervously. "It's me, all right, Brian what there is left of me."
"The old fool!" he cried as he flung himself into a chair. "I 've got it! I 've got it! Maurice Oakley must see me, and then what?" He sat down to think out what he should do to-morrow. Again, with his fine disregard of ways and means, he determined to trust to luck, and as he expressed it, "brace old Oakley." Accordingly he went about nine o'clock the next morning to Oakley's house.
From the corner of Oakley Street to the church, Cheyne Walk faces a second garden, in which there is a statue of Carlyle in bronze, executed by the late Sir Edgar Boehm and unveiled in 1882. This locality is associated with many famous men, though the exact sites of their houses are not known.
In a map of 1838 there is no trace of it, but only a great open space where Winchester House formerly stood. In No. 32 lives Dr. Phené, who was the first to plant trees in the streets of London. Phené Street, leading into Oakley Crescent, is named after him. The line of houses on the west side of Oakley Street is broken by a garden thickly set with trees.
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