4 Caesar’s confrontation with the senatorial party came to a head in 49 BC, when he was ordered to relinquish control of the armies he had commanded as governor in Gaul. Realizing that his opponents would not rest until they had destroyed him, Caesar decided to invade Italy. However, when he reached the Rubicon River, which formed the boundary between Gaul and Italy itself, he could scarcely bring himself to issue the fatal order to cross. As he hesitated, a figure of superhuman size was seen on the bank. It snatched a trumpet from a soldier, blew a mighty blast on it, and then ran into the river and crossed over. Caesar accepted this as a sign from the gods and led his troops over with the words: “Iacta alea est” (The die is cast).
5 When Caesar sailed from Italy at the end of 49 BC to attack Pompey in northwestern Greece, he was hampered by lack of transport for his troops and by the midwinter storms that made crossing the Adriatic a hazardous enterprise. When the transports he had sent back to Brindisi to fetch reinforcements failed to return (some had been lost to enemy action and the remainder were afraid to sail), Caesar resolved to return to Brindisi himself and reorganize them. Disguised as a slave, Caesar set out in a small boat against the wind. The sea became so stormy that the pilot gave orders to turn back, but Caesar stood up and encouraged him to persevere. “Go on and fear nothing,” he cried. “You carry Caesar and his fortune.”
6 In the Alps Caesar came upon a poor and miserable village. One of his company idly wondered whether there was competition for civic honors in such a place, whether the village’s men struggled and schemed to be head of their wretched community. With great earnestness, Caesar said, “For my part, I would rather be the chief man in this village than the second man in Rome.”
7 While he was dining with friends on the evening of March 14, the question arose: “What is the best kind of death?”
“A sudden one,” exclaimed Caesar before the others could answer. The next day he was assassinated.
8 Early in March of 44 BC the augur Spurinna warned Caesar that a great danger would befall him on the Ides of that month. On the Ides Caesar set off as usual for the Senate house; he encountered Spurinna and said to him with a smile, “The Ides of March have come.”
“True, they have come,” answered Spurinna, “but not yet gone.”
9 Among the conspirators who attacked Caesar on the fatal Ides of March in the Roman Senate house was Marcus Junius Brutus, whom Caesar had trusted and favored as a son. In the accounts of the assassination by Roman historians, Caesar is said at first to have resisted the onslaught of the assassins. But when he saw Brutus among them with his dagger drawn to deliver a blow, he ceased to struggle, and pulling the top part of his robe over his face, said, “You too, Brutus?”
CAGLIOSTRO, Alessandro (1743–95), Italian alchemist and adventurer.
1 Among the stories attaching to this famous charlatan was a rumor that he was three hundred years old. One of his servants, asked to confirm this, replied, “I can’t. I’ve only been in his service a hundred years myself!”
CAGNEY, James (1899–1986), US film actor.
1 (His wife was proud of Cagney’s incredible memory. She recalled one instance of it.)
“One day not long ago, we were getting into the car in New York, and he saw a man across the street. ‘You see that fellow over there?’ Jimmy said to me. ‘He sat next to me in school. His name is Nathan Skidelsky.’ ‘Prove it,’ I told him. ‘Go say hello.’ So he did. And you know what? It was Nathan Skidelsky. The only problem was, he didn’t remember who Jimmy Cagney was.”
2 Cagney was presented with a Life Achievement Award by the American Film Institute for his great contributions to film. After thanking those in his profession who had advanced his career as a movie star, he paused, then said, “And the names, the names of my youth — Lagerhead Quinlivan, Artie Klein, Pete Leyden, Jake Brodking, Specs Toporcer, Brother O’Mara, Picky Houlihan … the unmistakable touch of the gutter without which this evening might never have happened at all.”
3 Near the end of his life Cagney agreed to see an old friend. He had not socialized for years, and no one knew what to expect. But the luncheon was a great success. Cagney told stories and cried as he remembered companions long past. When he was kidded about his tears, Cagney dabbed at his eyes and said, “Ah, you know the Irish, we cry at card tricks.”
CAINE, Hall (1853–1931), British novelist.
1 Fame, it seems, can vanish as quickly as it comes. Few people now know the name of Hall Caine, for instance, who was internationally admired in the first half of the twentieth century. His books were translated into every known language, and his appearance (not unlike Shakespeare’s) was familiar to everyone. When Maksim Gorki visited London and was introduced at a party to such literary greats as Hardy, Conrad, Shaw, Wells, and Bennett, he inspected the guests for the famous face and, not finding it, demanded, “Where is Hall Caine?”
CALHERN, Louis (1895–1956), US actor.
1 Calhern was starring in an obviously doomed play that was having its first — and as it turned out, its last — night in Boston. Halfway through the first act the actors realized that the audience consisted of three people. Advancing to the proscenium, Calhern courteously invited them to join the cast so they wouldn’t feel so lonely.
CALIGULA [Gaius Caesar] (AD 12–41), Roman emperor. His nickname means “Little Boots,” a reference to the small military boots he wore as a boy.
1 Caligula was much addicted to gladiatorial games and other gory sports. On one occasion when the assembled Romans cheered on a team that the emperor did not support, he leaped to his feet in a rage, shouting, “I wish all you Romans had only one neck!”
2 At full moon, in accordance with his claim to be on an equal footing with the gods, Caligula used to invite the moon goddess to his bed. “Did you not see her?” he demanded of Aulus Vitellius (himself later to become emperor). “No,” said Vitellius tactfully, “only you gods can see one another.”
3 At a banquet Caligula was suddenly seized with a fit of helpless laughter. The consuls reclining next to him asked if they might share in the imperial merriment. Caligula, wiping the tears from his eyes, managed to gasp, “You’ll never guess! It suddenly occurred to me that I had only to give a single nod, and both your throats would be cut on the spot.”
4 Caligula was so hairy, and his legs so spindly, that he proclaimed it a capital offense to mention goats in his presence.
5 Caligula had a bridge built across the Gulf of Baiae, near Rome. Three and a half Roman miles long, it was made of boats lashed together with planking for a surface. He liked to ride back and forth over the bridge, and did so over and over. Years earlier, when his grandfather Tiberius was trying to select a successor, an astrologer had proclaimed, “Caligula has no more chance of becoming Emperor than of riding a horse dryshod over the Gulf of Baiae.”
CALLAS, Maria (1923–77), operatic soprano born in the United States of Greek parentage.
1 When Maria Callas was singing at the Metropolitan Opera in New York, she was interviewed by a reporter who said, “You were born in the United States, you were brought up in Greece, you are now practically an Italian. What language do you think in?” Miss Callas replied, “I count in English.”
2 Signing a contract to perform at the 1958 Festival of Two Worlds at Spoleto, Italy, Callas explained to Gian Carlo Menotti that he was actually saving money by employing her. He would not need to spend vast amounts on elaborate decor, which might distract the audience’s attention from her voice. An expensive tenor would also be unnecessary, as the crowds would flock to hear the great Callas regardless of the quality of the other performers. “I’ve signed up Luchino Visconti as director,” said Menotti. “Wonderful!” cried Callas. Then, after a moment’s thought, she added, “But he lacks just one thing. He lacks humility.”
3 Hearing a recording of her rival Renata Tebaldi, Callas said, “What a lovely voice — but who cares?”
CAMBRIDGE, George William Frederick Charles, 2d Duke of (181
9–1904), British field marshal.
1 Making the rounds of a hospital with Florence Nightingale during the Crimean War, the duke recognized a sergeant of the guard who had had a third of his body shot away. The duke addressed him by name, and asked jovially, “Aren’t you dead yet?” Later the wounded man said to Miss Nightingale with tears in his eyes, “So feelin’ of ’is Royal ’ighness, wasn’t it, ma’am? Bless ’is ’eart, ’e wondered why I ain’t dead yet!”
CAMBRONNE, Pierre-Jacques, Baron de (1770–1842), French general.
1 Cambronne commanded the French imperial guard at Waterloo. The circumstances of his capture by Colonel Hugh Halkett, a Hanoverian officer serving in the British army, are confused. The traditional account is that when Halkett called upon Cambronne to surrender, the Frenchman replied, “La garde meurt, mais ne se rend pas” (The guard dies but does not surrender).
“Damned humbug,” Halkett later remarked of this famous utterance, leaving it unclear whether he was referring to its authenticity or its sentiment.
CAMBYSES II (d. 522 BC), king of Persia (529–522 BC), son of Cyrus the Great.
1 Cambyses was a drunken despot, yet one of his actions shows that he was not without a sense of poetic fitness. When a judge was found guilty of corruption, Cambyses ordered him to be flayed alive. After the sentence had been carried out, the skin was used to cover the seat from which judgments were handed down. Cambyses then appointed the dead judge’s son to his father’s position.
CAMERON, Julia Margaret (1815–79), British photographer.
1 Julia Cameron used to present her friends with inappropriate and rather eccentric gifts that had caught her eye — a pair of yew trees for the poet Alfred Tennyson to plant, old catalogues for his children to read, rolls of wallpaper, legs of mutton from her sister’s estate, a violet poncho for Mrs. Tennyson’s father. Her gifts were not always graciously received. Thomas Carlyle once unwrapped a Christmas parcel and found a prayer book. “Either the Devil or Julia Cameron must have sent me this!” he exclaimed.
CAMERON OF LOCHIEL, Sir Ewan (1629–1719), Scottish highland chieftain, reputed to have killed the last wolf in Scotland.
1 Sir Ewan was out camping in the highlands with his young grandson, Donald Cameron (1695–1748), later known as “the Gentle Lochiel.” There had been a heavy fall of snow and the Cameron of Lochiel noticed that his grandson had rolled up a snowball to make a pillow. Sir Ewan kicked the snowball away. “I’ll have no effeminacy here, boy,” he snarled.
CAMPBELL, Mrs. Patrick [Beatrice Stella Campbell, née Tanner] (1865–1940), British actress, famous for her wit as well as her dramatic tantrums.
1 Mrs. Patrick Campbell was rehearsing William Butler Yeats’s Deirdre at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin. After a particularly wild display of her famous temperament, she walked downstage and peered out at the author, who was pacing up and down the stalls. “I’d give anything to know what you’re thinking,” she shouted. “I’m thinking,” replied Yeats, “of the master of a wayside Indian railway station who sent a message to his company’s headquarters saying: ‘Tigress on the line: wire instructions.’”
2 When Mrs. Campbell went to Hollywood in the early 1930s to be considered for film roles, she was handed the customary mimeographed publicity form. As requested, she gave details of her name, the color of her hair and eyes, her height, her hobbies, and so forth. When she came to the sheet headed “Experience,” she wrote, “Edward VII.”
3 At dinner Mrs. Patrick Campbell was sitting next to a biologist who could talk of nothing but the marvelous social organization of ant colonies. “Do you know,” he said enthusiastically, “they have their army and their own police force?”
“What, no navy?” said Mrs. Campbell.
4 Mrs. Campbell once attempted to smuggle her pet Pekingese through customs by tucking him inside the upper part of her cape. “Everything was going splendidly,” she later remarked, “until my bosoms barked.”
5 During the course of an American tour, Mrs. Pat once lost her usual control of the situation. A rather shy, unobtrusive little man was taking her in to dinner. She turned her magnetic eyes on him and, in her most effective histrionic tones, said, “Tell me which would you sooner do — love passionately or be loved passionately?” The little man took a deep breath, considered, then ventured, “I’d rather be a canary.”
6 Sara and Gerald Murphy, talented in their own right, were wealthy, well-connected friends of the novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald. Sara was also a favorite of Mrs. Pat Campbell, so much so that Mrs. Pat, whenever out shopping for clothes for her theater appearances, would insist on Sara’s accompanying her. “Sara, darling,” she would say, “does the dress walk? Or does it make me look just like a cigar?”
7 Mrs. Campbell was once asked by a rather pompous gentleman why it was that women were so devoid of any sense of humor. “God did it on purpose,” replied the actress, “so that we may love you men instead of laughing at you.”
8 Her genius did not always include tact. In her latter years, during an American tour, she was introduced to a distinguished gentleman who happened to be virtually bald. They had met many times before, but each time she had failed to recognize him. So it was in this latest encounter. The gentleman finally muttered something expressing irritation. Mrs. Pat’s lovely voice filled with tears as she murmured brokenly, “I’m so sorry — I think it’s because you do your hair differently!”
Chertkov, a disciple of Tolstoy, was a wealthy aristocrat. Tolstoy once reprimanded him for traveling first class, suggesting that, to demonstrate his humility, he should go second. On his next journey the obedient Chertkov hired an entire second-class coach for himself.
— FROM MICHAEL SCAMMEL,
Alexander Solzhenitsyn: A Biography
CAMPBELL, Thomas (1777–1844), British poet, known especially for his war songs and narrative poems.
1 At the height of the Napoleonic wars Campbell attended a literary dinner at which he proposed a toast to “Napoleon Bonaparte.” An angry clamor broke out among the patriotic guests. Campbell raised his voice and continued: “Gentlemen, you must not mistake me. I admit that the French emperor is a tyrant. I admit that he is a monster. I admit that he is the sworn foe of our nation, and, if you will, of the whole human race. But, gentlemen, we must be just to our enemy. We must not forget that he once shot a bookseller.”
The audience, nearly every one of them an author, broke into applause.
2 Attending Paisley races with John Wilson, Campbell bet his companion £50 that a certain horse, Yellow Cap, would win the first race. When the race was over, Campbell, thinking his horse had lost, turned to Wilson and said, “I owe you fifty pounds; but really, when I reflect that you are a professor of moral philosophy, and that betting is a sort of gambling only fit for blacklegs, I cannot bring my conscience to pay the bet.”
“I very much approve of your principles,” replied Wilson, “and I mean to act upon them. In point of fact, Yellow Cap has won the race, and, but for conscience, I ought to pay you the fifty pounds. But you will excuse me.”
CANE, Facino (1360–1412), Italian condottiere.
1 Facino Cane’s marauding bands of soldiers were greatly feared. One day a rich man, dressed in a fine doublet, came to complain that one of Cane’s soldiers had held him up and robbed him of his coat. “Were you wearing that doublet on the day of the robbery?” inquired Facino Cane. The complainant said that he was. “Get out,” said the condottiere. “It wasn’t one of my soldiers who robbed you. None of them would have left you that doublet.”
CANNING, George (1770–1827), British Tory prime minister (1827).
1 Sydney Smith said that Canning in office was like a fly in amber: “Nobody cares about the fly. The only question is — how the devil did it get there?”
2 Canning was a master of the putdown. He once attended a church service, following which the clergyman asked his opinion of the sermon. Canning replied, “You were brief.”
“Yes,” said the clergyma
n, “you know I avoid being tedious.”
“But you were tedious,” said Canning.
CANNON, Cornelia James (1876–1969), US novelist.
1 (The Cannons’ daughter Marian Cannon Schlesinger, ex-wife of historian Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., tells this story about her mother.)
“A year or two later [she was about ninety], when sitting in the car waiting for my sister, who was buying apples in an orchard farm near Franklin [New Hampshire], my mother suddenly called out to her, ‘I’m dying, Linda. We must go home. This is such an undignified place to die!’ When my sister exclaimed, ‘Mother, how do you know you’re dying?’ she said, ‘How can I know, I’ve never died before.’”
When Vera Czermak learned that her husband had betrayed her, she decided she would end it all by jumping out of her third-story window. Some time later she awoke in the hospital to discover that she was still alive, having landed upon her husband. Mr. Czermak, however, was dead.
— JOHN TRAIN,
True Remarkable Occurrences
CANUTE [Cnut] (?994–1035), Danish king of England (1014–35).
1 The story of how Canute rebuked the flattery of his retainers is told in a twelfth-century chronicle. Tiring of their extravagant praises of his greatness, power, and invincibility, Canute ordered his chair to be set down on the seashore, where he commanded the waves not to come in and wet him. The incoming tide soon proved the futility of human commands, and the chronicler adds that from this time on Canute never wore his crown again, but hung it upon a statue of the crucified Christ.
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