Bartlett's Book of Anecdotes

by Clifton Fadiman

  MONTECUCCOLI, Raimund, Count (1609–80), Austrian general.

  1 The Roman Catholic (and ordinarily pious) general had dutifully ordered an omelet for his dinner one Friday. Being exceptionally hungry, however, he decided that there would be no harm in having a little ham sliced up in it. Just as the dish was set in front of him, an exceptionally loud clap of thunder announced the start of a storm. Without a word, the general strode to the window, opened it, and threw out the omelet. Looking up toward the source of the thunder, he exclaimed petulantly, “Voilà bien du bruit pour une omelette au jambon!” (What a lot of fuss over a mere ham omelet!)

  MONTEFIORE, Sir Moses (1784–1885), Jewish philanthropist.

  1 At a dinner party Montefiore found himself seated next to an anti-Semitic nobleman who opened the conversation by saying, “I have just returned from Japan, and it’s a most unusual country. Did you know that it has neither pigs nor Jews?”

  “In that case,” Montefiore replied, “you and I should go there, so it will have a sample of each.”

  MONTEUX, Pierre (1875–1964), French conductor.

  1 After hearing André Previn conduct the final movement of a Haydn symphony, Monteux called the younger man over to him. “Did you think the orchestra was playing well?” he asked. Previn, who had been rather pleased with the rendering, hesitated, then replied, “Yes, I thought they played very well.” Monteux nodded. “So did I,” he said. “Next time don’t interfere with them.”

  2 A rehearsal of Richard Strauss’s Till Eulen-spiegel with the Philadelphia Orchestra was not going well. Monteux suspected that the trouble lay with the orchestra’s overfamiliarity with the piece. Stopping the music suddenly, he said, “Gentlemen, I know that you know this piece backwards, but please do not let us play it that way. ”

  MONTGOMERY, Bernard Law, 1st Viscount Montgomery of Alamein (1887–1976), British field marshal, nicknamed “Monty.”

  1 When Paris was recaptured by the Allies from the Germans in 1944 a jubilant General de Gaulle invested Monty with the Grande Croix of the Légion d’Honneur. The British Embassy was packed with a wildly excited crowd who would take no orders from anyone but Monty himself. Monty mustered his best French and said, “Merci — et main-tenant — allez-vous en.” The crowd dispersed, but some people grumbled that Monty had said the wrong thing, been ungracious, and so on. Monty sought out A. P. Herbert. “‘Allez-vous en means ‘go away,’ doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well,” said Monty, “that’s what I wanted, and that’s what they did.”

  2 In 1944 Alan Brooke, chief of the imperial general staff and later to become first Viscount Alanbrooke, remarked to George VI that Montgomery was “a very good soldier, but I think he is after my job.” Replied the king, “I thought he was after mine.”

  3 Climbing into a London cab one afternoon, Montgomery gave his destination as Waterloo. “Station?” quipped the driver. Monty glanced at his watch. “Certainly,” he replied. “We’re a bit late for the battle.”

  4 Montgomery carried his flair for the dramatic into civilian life. One day during a sitting of the House of Lords, he turned to the man next to him and, with his expression unruffled and voice calm, said, “Excuse me, but I’m having a coronary thrombosis.” And away he went to look for medical attention.

  {The doctors discovered that he had indeed suffered a heart attack.}

  MONTGOMERY, James (1771–1854), Scottish poet and journalist.

  1 From 1792 Montgomery lived in Sheffield, where he attained a position of prominence as a writer and philanthropist. In 1812, however, his house was burgled. A treasured inkstand, presented to him by the ladies of Sheffield, was among the items stolen. There was a great public outcry, and some time later the inkstand was returned to its rightful owner with the following message: “Honored sir: When we robbed your house we did not know that you wrote such beautiful verses as you do. I remember my mother told some of them to me when I was a boy. I found what house we robbed by the writing on the inkstand. Honored sir, I send it back. It was my share of the booty, and I hope you and God will forgive me.”

  MONTMORENCY, Anne, Duc de (1493–1567), French nobleman and general.

  1 Montmorency was fatally wounded leading the Roman Catholic forces against the Huguenots at the battle of St. Denis in 1567, and was taken back to Paris to die. When a priest came to exhort him to make a good end, Montmorency said, “Father, do you believe that a man who knew how to live for nearly eighty years with honor does not know how to die for a quarter of an hour?”

  MOORE, George Augustus (1852–1933), British author.

  1 Moore was at the center of London literary life and gossip for many years. His various love affairs were well publicized — usually by the author. One woman acquaintance complained, “Some men kiss and do not tell; some kiss and tell; but George Moore told and did not kiss.”

  2 Moore had trouble keeping a cook. Yeats tells how he fired six in three weeks. One of them, in protest, summoned a policeman. Moore took the officer into his dining room and demanded, “Is there a law in this country to compel me to eat that abominable omelet?” The cook left.

  3 (In George Moore’s Ulick and Soracha the old harper Tadgh dies gazing at the beautiful naked back of the young peasant woman Bridgit, whom he had married in his extreme old age. In a chapter suppressed from the published version of her G. M.: Memories of George Moore, Nancy Cunard, the daughter of one of George Moore’s great lovers, Emerald Cunard, and herself a friend of the aged novelist, records the incident that gave rise to this scene. From time to time in the early 1920s, without any other amorous overtures, Moore had asked Nancy whether he might see her naked. She had always refused.)

  “The words were as sudden as ever, said this time with a good deal of wistfulness: ‘I do wish you would let me see you naked. I am an old man….Oh, let me at least see your naked back.’

  “Now, equally suddenly, something within me said, ‘Do this!’ and without more ado, facing away from him, I took off all my clothes, standing motionless a few feet from where he sat. How lightly, how easily, it came about. My clothes left me, lying in a graceful summer pool on the floor, as if they had slipped away of themselves. The night was warm and the mood serene. Without hesitation, my long, naked back and legs were at last in front of him and the silence was complete. It would be full-on he was looking at them and I did not turn my head. Of what could he be thinking? At length came a slow, murmuring sigh: ‘Oh, what a beautiful back you have, Nancy! It is as long as a weasel’s! What a beautiful back!’

  “Then, never turning, I put my clothes on again with the same ease.”

  MOORE, Marianne (1887–1972), US poet.

  1 A young man arrived at the great elderly poet’s apartment in Brooklyn with an armload of books for her to sign. As she was doing so, he looked around the dwelling and saw a trapeze hanging from a doorway. “Miss Moore,” he finally asked after thinking about it, “what is that up in the doorway?” “Oh,” said Moore without looking up, “that is my trapeze.”

  MORE, Hannah (1745–1833), British moralistic writer and philanthropist.

  1 Mrs. More was spending a pleasant evening with a group of friends, when a late arrival to the party introduced a note of tragedy by relating a harrowing scene he had just witnessed along the road. A young mother had heroically rushed back into her blazing house to rescue her child, but in the dense smoke had mistakenly seized upon the child of another woman, leaving her own to die. The company, distressed by this tale, immediately set up a collection for the poor woman. Mrs. More played a prominent part in organizing the collection, in the course of which she approached a wealthy peer, who was not known for his generosity. “I will give you …” he began, as Mrs. More held out her hand expectantly, “… I will give you this afflicting incident for the subject of your next tragedy.”

  MORE, Sir Thomas (1478–1535), British statesman, author of Utopia.

  1 When young Thomas More was looking for a wife, the three da
ughters of a certain John Colte seemed to him eligible and attractive girls. More’s inclinations led him to fix his choice first upon the second daughter, but then he thought what an affront it would be to the eldest if her younger sister was married before she was. He accordingly asked for the hand of the eldest daughter, Jane.

  2 In Utopia More recommends that young people should see each other naked before marriage in order to avoid disappointments and recriminations later. When Sir William Roper came early one morning to More’s house at Chelsea with a request to marry one of his daughters, More led him upstairs to the room where the two young girls were sleeping. They were lying on their backs, with the sheet lightly over them. The father whipped off the sheet. The startled girls awoke and turned quickly over onto their stomachs. “Now I have seen both sides,” said Sir William, and then and there made his choice of the elder daughter, Margaret.

  3 “Ascending the scaffold, [More] seemed so weak that he was ready to fall; whereupon he merrily said to the Lieutenant, ‘I pray you Mr. Lieutenant see me safe up, and for my coming down let me shift for myself.’ Then desired he all the people to pray for him, and to bear witness with him, that he should suffer death, in, and for the Faith of the Holy Catholic Church, a faithful servant both of God and the King. Which done, he kneeled down, and after his prayers ended, he turned to the executioner, and with a cheerful countenance, said, ‘Pluck up thy spirits, man, and be not afraid to do thine office. My neck is very short, take heed therefore thou strike not awry for saving thine honesty.’ Then laying his head upon the block he had the executioner stay until he had removed aside his beard, saying that that had never committed any treason. So with much cheerfulness he received the fatal blow of the axe, which at once severed his head from his body.”

  MOREL, Fédéric (1552–1630), French scholar and printer.

  1 Morel was engrossed in a translation of Libanius when a messenger arrived to tell him that his wife was seriously ill. “I have only two or three passages left to translate,” said Morel, without looking up from his work, “then I shall come directly.” After some time, a second messenger brought the news that Mme Morel had not long to live. “Just two more words,” cried the scholar, “and I shall be there.” A third messenger appeared. “Your wife is dead,” he announced solemnly. Morel sighed. “I am grieved indeed,” he said. “She was a good woman.” With that, he settled down to his translation again.

  MORGAN, John Pierpont, Sr. (1837–1913), US banker, financier, and benefactor of the arts.

  1 J. P. Morgan was as sharp an art collector as he was a banker; so the young Joseph Du-veen, who in later years became one of the world’s foremost art dealers, found out to his cost. Young Joseph was convinced that his uncle, Henry Duveen, was not getting as much as he should from Morgan. Accordingly, Joseph put before the great man a collection of thirty miniatures, of which six were very rare and the rest unremarkable. Morgan cast his eye briefly over the collection and then asked what the thirty pieces cost. Duveen gave him the figure, upon which Morgan pocketed the six good miniatures, divided Duveen’s figure by thirty, multiplied by six, and handed over that amount. “You’re only a boy, Joe,” Uncle Henry told the exasperated Joseph afterward. “It takes a man to deal with Morgan.”

  2 Morgan once told a jeweler of his acquaintance that he was interested in buying a pearl scarf pin. Just a few weeks later, the jeweler happened upon a magnificent pearl. He had it mounted in an appropriate setting and sent it to Morgan, together with a bill for $5,000. The following day the package was returned. Morgan’s accompanying note read: “I like the pin, but I don’t like the price. If you will accept the enclosed check for $4,000, please send back the box with the seal unbroken.” The enraged jeweler refused the check and dismissed the messenger in disgust. He opened up the box to reclaim the unwanted pin, only to find that it had been removed. In its place was a check for $5,000.

  3 The Cathedral of St. John the Divine, near Columbia University in New York City, has attached to it a Gothic château called the Cathedral House. It is an opulent structure, originally intended to be the bishop’s house. At the time of its completion there were critics who felt that it was perhaps too elegant to house a humble servant of God. One of the trustees, J. P. Morgan, defended it thus: “Bishops should live like everyone else.”

  4 Morgan was looking for a new director of the Metropolitan Museum. Sir Caspar Pur-don Clarke, director of the Victoria and Albert Museum in South Kensington, London, seemed the ideal choice. To the dismay of his English colleagues, Clarke accepted the new appointment. The secretary of the Victoria and Albert Museum was on vacation at the time; on his return he asked about some Chinese porcelains and tapestries that had come up for auction in his absence, which he had hoped to acquire for the museum. “I’m afraid J. P. Morgan bought them, sir,” replied the clerk. “Good God,” said the secretary, “I must tell Sir Purdon.” The clerk looked a little uneasy. “Sorry, sir,” he said. “Mr. Morgan bought him also.”

  5 Morgan’s nose was disfigured by a skin disease that made it swollen and fiery. People, while pretending politely not to notice anything extraordinary, were nonetheless mesmerized by it. There is the story of the nervous hostess at the tea table, who inquired, “Do you take nose in your tea, Mr. Morgan?”

  6 Morgan disliked haggling and tended to make offers in his business dealings on a “take-it-or-leave-it” basis. The figure quoted for the purchase of Andrew Carnegie’s steel interests was almost a quarter of a billion dollars. When the slip of paper bearing the figure was handed to him, he barely glanced at it before saying, “I accept.” Later Carnegie met him by chance and said he regretted not having set the price 100 million dollars higher. “You’d have got it if you had,” said Morgan.

  7 Morgan was asked to contribute to an Ivy League medical school. Meeting representatives from the school, he said he was in a hurry and asked them quickly to show him the plans of the proposed buildings. The plans were spread out. “I’ll give that, and that, and that,” said Morgan, pointing to three buildings, and hurried from the room before he could even be thanked.

  8 Morgan fell afoul of Theodore Roosevelt over an antitrust action that the president brought in 1902 against one of his companies. When Roosevelt left office and immediately headed for Africa on a big game safari, Morgan is said to have exclaimed, “Health to the lions!”

  MORGAN, John Pierpont, Jr. (1867–1943), US head of the banking house of Morgan.

  1 A man who had been gazing enviously at J. P. Morgan’s yacht said to its owner, “I’m thinking of buying a yacht myself. Can you give me an idea of the annual upkeep?” Morgan replied, “Anyone who has to ask about annual upkeep can’t afford one.”

  2 One of J. P. Morgan’s servants availed himself of every opportunity to better and enrich himself. Eventually he decided that he had saved enough to retire in style, and so notified Morgan that he would be leaving his service. Morgan asked him to find a suitable replacement. The following day the man presented to his employer two likely candidates. Morgan interviewed them and selected one. “And I’ll take the other, Mr. Morgan,” said the retiring servant.

  MORLEY, Christopher (1890–1957), US writer and editor.

  1 Christopher Morley and William Rose Benét were gazing at the window of a wig shop in which were displayed two small identical wigs on their stands. “They’re alike as toupees in a pod,” observed Morley.

  MORLEY, Robert (1908–92), British actor.

  1 Playwright William Douglas-Home boasted to Morley over lunch one day that actor Alfred Marks was to appear in his new play. “I’ve always admired Mr. Marks tremendously,” said Morley enthusiastically. Then, without thinking, he continued, “Unfortunately, he always seems to choose the wrong play.”

  MORRIS, Clara (1847–1925), US actress, born in Canada.

  1 (Clara Morris told the following story of her own experience:)

  “Somewhere in the wide world there is an actor — and a good one — who never eats celery without thinking
of me. It was years ago, when I was playing Camille. In the first scene, you will remember, the unfortunate Armand takes a rose from Camille as a token of love. We had almost reached that point, when, as I glanced down, I saw that the flower was missing from its accustomed place on my breast.

  “What could I do? On the flower hung the strength of the scene. However, I continued my lines in an abstracted fashion, and began a still hunt for that rose or a substitute. My gaze wandered around the stage. On the dinner table was some celery. Moving slowly toward it, I grasped the celery and twisted the tops into a rose form. Then I began the fateful lines: ‘Take this flower. The life of a camellia is short. If held and caressed it will fade in a morning or an evening.’

  “Hardly able to control his laughter, Armand spoke his lines, which ran: ‘It is a cold, scentless flower. It is a strange flower.’ I agreed with him.”

  MORRIS, William (1834–96), British poet, designer, artist, and typographer.

  1 During William Morris’s last visit to Paris, he spent much of his time in the restaurant of the Eiffel Tower, either eating or writing. When a friend observed that he must be very impressed by the tower to spend so much time there, Morris snorted, “Impressed! I remain here because it’s the only place in Paris where I can avoid seeing the damn thing.”

  MORSE, Samuel Finley Breese (1791–1872), US inventor of the telegraph.

  1 In May 1844 Morse sent the first public telegram over the specially constructed line built between Baltimore and Washington. The text of the telegram was: “WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT.”