MARY I (1516–58), queen of England (1553–58), known as “Bloody Mary.”
1 Calais, England’s last possession in France, was lost to the French in 1558. This disaster further undermined Mary’s health, which had been weakened by a phantom pregnancy. A lady-in-waiting suggested to her during her last illness that her distress was caused by the absence of her husband, Philip, from her side. “Not only that,” said the unhappy queen, “but when I am dead and opened you shall find ‘Calais’ lying in my heart.”
In his Encyclopedia of Eccentrics De Morgan tells the story of the slow-witted royal duke of the previous century who was once out riding with noble members of his retinue. “The rain comes into my mouth,” complained the royal rider with a grimace. An equerry politely suggested that His Highness would be wise to shut his mouth in that case. The duke did so. A few minutes later he commented thoughtfully, “It doesn’t come in now.”
— AUGUSTUS DE MORGAN,
The Encyclopedia of Eccentrics
MARY (1867–1953), queen consort of George V of Great Britain.
1 As Prince and Princess of Wales, George and Mary once visited Portsmouth, where they were entertained by the commander in chief of the British fleet, Admiral Sir John Fisher. Sir John offered to take the prince down in a submarine, and the invitation was eagerly accepted. Mary was not altogether happy about this idea, but with true regal self-control managed to suppress her feelings. As the vessel disappeared below the surface, she simply murmured, “I shall be very disappointed if George doesn’t come up again.”
2 When she was informed of the death of her son, King George VI, all that escaped Queen Mary’s lips was the smallest “Oh!” She looked so upset, however, that the members of her household asked her daughter, the Princess Royal, to come to her as quickly as possible. The princess, then in her mid-fifties, hurried to Queen Mary, full of concern for the old lady. To her surprise she was greeted with disapproval. “When you come before the queen,” said her mother, “please do your hair properly.” The princess retreated to her room.
MARY, Queen of Scots (1542–87). The daughter of James V of Scotland, she became queen soon after her birth.
1 Surviving portraits of Mary show her with exquisite auburn hair. After she had been beheaded, the executioner stooped to pick up her head to exhibit it, as the custom was, to the crowd. As he stood and cried, “Long live the queen!” he found he was holding only a kerchief to which was fastened an auburn wig. At his feet lay the head of the queen of Scots, almost completely bald.
MASARYK, Jan (1886–1948), son of the founding president of Czechoslovakia, politician.
1 Early in his career Jan Masaryk served as Czech ambassador to the United States. At a party he was prevailed upon by the hostess to play the violin. He graciously accepted the invitation and played a Czech nursery song, to rapturous applause from all present. He left the party with a Czech friend, who wanted to know why on earth he had been asked to play the violin. Masaryk explained, “Oh, it’s all very simple — don’t you see? They have mixed me up with my father; they mixed him up with Paderewski. And they mixed the piano up with the violin.”
MASCAGNI, Pietro (1863–1945), Italian composer.
1 Mascagni was much irritated by an organgrinder who stood outside his apartment playing tunes from Cavalleria Rusticana at about half the correct speed. Eventually he could stand it no longer, went out into the street, and said to the organ-grinder, “I am Mascagni. Let me show you how to play this music correctly.” He gave the handle of the hurdy-gurdy a few vigorous turns.
The following day Mascagni again heard the organ-grinder in the street outside. When he looked out, he noticed a sign over the instrument: “PUPIL OF MASCAGNI.”
2 When in 1901 the time came to dedicate his opera Le Maschere, Mascagni solved the problem neatly. He dedicated it to himself “with highest esteem and unchanging affection.”
MASSENET, Jules (1842–1912), French opera composer.
1 Massenet was conducting a rehearsal of Manon with a particularly lackluster chorus. Finally he rapped on the rostrum and exhorted them, saying, “Brother and sister artists! Sing it like an encore! Sing it as though the audience had applauded!” The appeal was immediately successful.
MASTROIANNI, Marcello (1923–97), Italian actor.
1 Film producer Joseph Levine once presented Mastroianni with a magnificent gold wrist-watch. It could have been an embarrassing moment, for the actor was already wearing a gold watch. On seeing what was inside the package, however, Mastroianni took off his own watch and nonchalantly dropped it into the nearest wastebasket.
MATHILDE, Princess (1820–1904), French noblewoman.
1 Separated from her husband within five years of their marriage, Princess Mathilde had a long affair with Count Niewekerke. The liaison was public knowledge, but because of Princess Mathilde’s position in the imperial family, no one was supposed to know about it. She was entertaining a group of ladies one afternoon when her dog, a miniature greyhound, came running up to her to be caressed. “Go away, you naughty dog,” said the princess, pushing it from her. “Don’t you know you’re in disgrace?” Then turning to her guests she explained: “Last night he kept jumping on the bed all night and I couldn’t get any sleep at all.” A short while later Count Niewekerke joined the party. The little dog ran to fawn on him as well, but he pushed it away. “You’re a very bad dog and I’m not going to pet you. You kept jumping on the bed all night and I didn’t sleep a wink.”
2 At the end of a pleasant social evening at Saint Gratien, her summer residence, the princess rose and said to her chevalier d’hon-neur, General Bougenel, “Now let’s go to bed.” Admiral Duperré was also present. “I wish I were in the general’s place,” he murmured. “I’m afraid you’d be cheated, mon cher” said the princess, playfully slapping the admiral’s wrist with her fan. “In this house we don’t provide night service.”
MATISSE, Henri (1869–1954), French painter.
1 At a museum in Antibes, Matisse sat down in front of a Picasso painting and began copying it. Curious bystanders came over to see what this old man was doing, and one asked the painter, “Can you tell me what this picture represents?” Matisse replied, “You see, I’m trying to find out for myself.”
2 Matisse’s painting Le Bateau hung upside down in the Museum of Modern Art, New York, for forty-seven days before anyone noticed (October 18-December 4, 1961). In that period 116,000 people had visited the gallery.
MATTHEWS, A[lfred] E[dward] (1869–1960), British actor.
1 Toward the end of his career Matthews was acting in a West End play. One scene involved a crucial telephone call, which Matthews was to answer. The telephone rang on cue; he crossed the stage, picked up the receiver, and promptly dried up. In desperation, he turned to the only other actor on the stage and said, “It’s for you.”
2 Matthews’s last memorable stage appearance was in The Manor of Northstead in 1953. During rehearsals, it was obvious that the eighty-four-year-old actor was having some difficulty learning his part, and his director was rather concerned. “I know you think I’m not going to know my lines,” said Matthews when approached on the subject, “but I promise you that even if we had to open next Monday, I would be all right.”
“But, Matty,” replied his director anxiously, “we do open next Monday.”
MATURE, Victor (1915–99), US film actor.
1 Victor Mature applied for membership in the exclusive Los Angeles Country Club, only to be told “We don’t accept actors.” “I’m no actor,” Mature is supposed to have protested, “and I’ve got sixty-four pictures to prove it.”
2 Groucho Marx was among the audience invited to a private screening of Victor Mature’s new film Samson and Delilah, in which he co-starred with Hedy Lamarr. “What did you think?” asked the producer buoyantly at the end. “I have one major criticism,” said Groucho. “You can’t expect the public to get excited about a film where the leading man’s bust is bigger than the leading lad
y’s.”
3 During a break in the filming of a historical picture, Mature slipped out with one of his fellow actors for a quick drink. As time was short, they did not bother changing out of their Roman gladiator costumes and strode into the local bar in full armor, complete with helmets and swords. The barman, speechless, stood rooted to the spot. “What’s the matter?” asked Mature. “Don’t you serve members of the armed forces?”
MAUCH, Gene (1925–), US baseball executive.
1 The manager of many teams, Mauch was known for making bad decisions that adversely affected his team’s chances in playoff games and often prevented them from getting into the World Series. Attempting to console him, a friend noted that one learned best from adversity. “If it’s true you can learn from adversity,” he shot back, “then I must be the luckiest sonofabitch in the whole world.”
MAUGHAM, W[illiam] Somerset (1874–1965), British novelist and playwright.
1 Somerset Maugham’s Liza of Lambeth, his first novel, was published in 1897. Drawing on his experiences as a medical student when he spent some weeks as an obstetric clerk in the London slums, it achieved sufficient success to encourage Maugham to abandon his medical career for writing. Ten years passed before that success was repeated, and in the meantime his numerous novels and plays made no further mark. Edmund Gosse, then the doyen of the literary and social circles to which Maugham aspired, had been particularly enthusiastic about Liza of Lambeth, but for many years after that he rubbed salt into the wounds in Maugham’s self-esteem by saying every time they met, “My dear Maugham, I liked your Liza of Lambeth so much. How wise of you never to have written anything else!”
2 Somerset Maugham believed that early nights would keep him young, a habit his friend, the society hostess Emerald Cunard, found irritating. As he was preparing as usual to leave soon after dinner one night, Lady Cunard pressed him to stay. Maugham demurred: “I can’t stay, Emerald. I have to keep my youth.”
“Then why didn’t you bring him with you?” Lady Cunard asked. “I should be delighted to meet him.”
3 Asked why he always chose to sail in French ships, Maugham replied, “Because there’s none of that nonsense about women and children first.”
4 Unable to take his Spanish royalties out of the country, Maugham decided to use the money to pay for a luxury holiday there. He chose one of the best hotels and dined extravagantly every evening, until he felt satisfied that he had spent most of the accumulated sum. He informed the manager that he would be leaving the following day, and asked for his bill. The manager beamed at his distinguished guest. “It has been an honor having you here,” he replied. “You have brought much good publicity to us. Therefore, there is no bill.”
5 His ex-wife, who was about to leave for America, worried that she would never make the crossing alive — a torpedo would surely sink their ship. “I have only one piece of advice to give you,” Maugham told her. “Keep your mouth open, and you will drown the sooner.”
6 During the course of his eightieth-birthday celebrations, Maugham spoke at a dinner in his honor at the Garrick Club in London. “There are many virtues in growing old,” he began, then paused and looked down at the table. The pause grew uncomfortably long. Maugham fumbled with his notes, looked around the room, shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. The guests exchanged embarrassed glances. The writer cleared his throat and continued: “… I’m just trying to think what they are.”
MAUREPAS, Jean-Frédéric Phélippeaux, Comte de (1701–81), French statesman.
1 When Louis XVI ascended the throne, he cast about for experienced advisers. Two names were suggested to him: Comte de Machault as prime minister and Comte de Maurepas as master of ceremonies to arrange the court mourning for Louis XV. Both were summoned. Maurepas arrived first and, like the experienced courtier he was, quickly insinuated himself into the young king’s favor. When the king was called to a council meeting, Maurepas was still with him, and as Louis did not dismiss him, he followed him into the council chamber and sat down at the table. Seeing that Louis was nonplussed as to how to deal with him, Maurepas said boldly, “Is Your Majesty wishing to appoint me prime minister?”
“No,” said Louis, “I did not intend that.”
“Ah,” said Maurepas, “I understand; Your Majesty wishes me to teach him how to govern without one.”
{After this Maurepas became de facto prime minister, Machault returned home empty-handed, and the consequences for Louis’s government were disastrous.}
MAURY, Jean Siffrein (1746–1817), French cardinal.
1 In 1781 Maury was the Lenten preacher at Louis XVI’s court. The king observed of his preaching, “If the abbé had only said a few words about religion, he would have covered every possible subject.”
2 During the period 1789–92 Maury’s wit stood him in good stead in the Constituent Assembly; it was said that a single bon mot might preserve his life for a month. On one occasion he was followed as speaker by Mirabeau, who announced, “I shall enclose the abbé in a vicious circle.”
“Ah, Mirabeau,” interjected the abbé, “are you proposing to embrace me?”
MAYER, Louis B. (1885–1957), US film producer.
1 When Mayer visited Franklin Roosevelt in the White House, he laid his watch down on the President’s desk at the start of their meeting and said, “I’m told, Mr. President, that when anyone spends eighteen minutes with you, you have them in your pocket.” Their interview lasted seventeen minutes.
2 Driving away from the funeral of Irving Thalberg, his protégé, longtime colleague, and finally rival, Mayer was very quiet. MGM executive Edgar J. Mannix, who was in the limousine with him, wondered what the thoughts were going through his chief’s head. Suddenly a smile broke across Mayer’s face and he said, “Isn’t God good to me?”
3 Trying to persuade Mayer to give money to charity, a colleague reasoned: “You can’t take it with you when you go.”
“If I can’t take it with me,” retorted Mayer, “I won’t go.”
4 Mayer admired “class” and wanted badly to possess it. Told that golf was a classy American sport, he once took it up. But he never seemed to get the hang of it, never quite understood that it was scored in strokes. Instead, he saw it as a kind of race. He employed two caddies. One caddy was posted down the fairway to locate the ball at once. Meanwhile caddy number two would run ahead, Mayer pelting behind him, to station himself for the next shot. The game over, Mayer would consult his watch. “We made it in one hour and seven minutes! Three minutes better than yesterday.”
5 When Mayer appointed his daughter’s husband to an executive position at MGM over the heads of more experienced staff, a studio employee noted, “The son-in-law also rises.”
6 Mayer’s funeral was attended by huge crowds, a fact that could not in his case be attributed to universal popularity. Goldwyn explained: “The reason so many people showed up for his funeral was because they wanted to make sure he was dead.”
MAYO, Charles Horace (1865–1939), US surgeon.
1 In Dr. Mayo’s mail one morning was a letter from a spiritualist. “Ever since your late great father passed over,” it read, “he has been my doctor. What do you say to that?” Mayo picked up his pen and drafted a reply: “Fine! Please estimate what my father’s services have amounted to and send the money to me.”
MAZARIN, Jules, Cardinal (1602–61), French statesman.
1 A court gossip once told Cardinal Mazarin of a dreadful row between two ladies of the court. The ladies had bombarded each other with insults, each trying to blacken the other’s reputation with accusations and slander. “Have they called each other ugly?” asked the cardinal. His informant thought for a moment. “No, Monseigneur,” he replied. “Well, then,” said Mazarin, “it should not be too difficult to reconcile them.”
2 As Mazarin lay dying, the night skies of France were lit by a comet, which the superstitious saw as heralding the great statesman’s death. When Mazarin was told of the fears aroused by the phen
omenon, he remarked drily, “The comet does me too much honor.”
MEDICI, Lorenzo de’ (1449–92), Florentine ruler, known as “Lorenzo the Magnificent.”
1 Lorenzo was on one occasion watching a young apprentice carving the face of an old satyr. He remarked that he was surprised such an old face had a full set of teeth. When he next saw the young man at work again, he noted that one of the satyr’s teeth had been knocked out and the gums carefully aged and wrinkled. Impressed, Lorenzo invited the young man to live in the Palazzo Medici with his family. The youth was Michelangelo.
MEHMED II (1432–81), Ottoman sultan (1451–81) known as “the Conqueror.”
1 The son of Sultan Murad II and an obscure slave girl, Mehmed had an unhappy childhood and turbulent adolescence while his status as heir to the throne was being established. These early events probably instilled in him his inordinate deviousness and secre-tiveness. Once when asked what he intended to do, he replied, “If a hair of my beard knew, I would pluck it out.”
MEHTA, Zubin (1936–), Indian-born conductor.
1 Asked which orchestra gave him the most pleasure to conduct, Mehta tactfully refused to single out any particular favorite. “What would a devout Muslim answer as to which of his wives he preferred?” he reasoned. “One can have preferences about details only — a dimple here, an oboe there.”
Bartlett's Book of Anecdotes Page 67