Bartlett's Book of Anecdotes

by Clifton Fadiman

  8 In the path of Napoleon’s advancing army, the Russians abandoned the city of Smolensk and set fire to it. Napoleon, watching the blaze with his aides, compared it to an eruption of Vesuvius, and asked his master of horse whether it was not a fine sight. “Horrible, sir,” said the man. Napoleon snorted contemptuously. “Remember, gentlemen,” he said, “as one of the Roman emperors remarked, ‘The corpse of an enemy always smells sweet!’”

  9 A little later, Napoleon may have had a change of heart. When the French defeated the Russians at Borodino, their losses were almost as great as those of the Russians. Napoleon considered Borodino the most terrible battle he had ever fought. On the following day he and his aides rode over the battlefield in silence, reckoning up the dead. They came across a prostrate body and, hearing a cry of pain, Napoleon ordered a stretcher. “It’s only a Russian, sire,” said one of his aides. Napoleon retorted, “After a victory there are no enemies, only men.”

  10 Later still all trace of compassion — even for his own — was gone. After the French victory at Eylau over the combined Russian and Prussian forces, Napoleon walked across the battlefield, turning over with his foot the corpses of French soldiers. “Small change, small change,” he said. “One Parisian night will soon adjust these losses.”

  11 After the Russian debacle Napoleon, fearing his position at home was precarious, left the French army in the lurch and hurried back to France almost unaccompanied. Arriving at the banks of the river Neman in his miserable sleigh, he inquired of the ferryman whether many deserters had come through that way. “No,” replied the Russian, “you are the first.”

  12 When Napoleon made his triumphant return from Elba in March 1815, the restored Bourbon king, Louis XVIII, fled, leaving a large sum of money with the banker Jacques Laf-fitte. An official thinking to curry favor with the emperor, informed Napoleon of the existence of the deposit. Napoleon, however, had it transferred to England, where Louis could have access to it. After Waterloo, when Napoleon himself was about to flee Paris, he made arrangements with Laffitte to leave a similarly large amount of money on deposit. When Laffitte sat down at his desk to write out a receipt for the deposit, Napoleon stopped him: “If I am captured and the receipt is found on me it will compromise you.” And he absolutely refused to accept one.

  13 Napoleon had a general, one Bisson, whom he called “Gargantua” for his appetite. Bisson once challenged an English admiral to a duel. The weapon he chose was food, and in the course of their “battle,” Bisson ate blood sausage, six chickens, and six lambs. After the admiral withdrew, Bisson went on to desserts and cheeses.

  14 The death of Napoleon on St. Helena was announced in a crowded Paris salon attended by Wellington and Talleyrand, among others. In the hush that followed the announcement, someone exclaimed, “What an event!”

  “It is no longer an event!” broke in the voice of Talleyrand. “It is only a piece of news.”

  NAPOLEON III (1808–73), emperor of France (1852–70), nephew of Napoleon I.

  1 The emperor was once implored by a lady to forbid all smoking on the grounds that it was a great vice. Laying aside his cigar, he replied, “This vice brings in one hundred million francs in taxes every year. I will certainly forbid it at once — as soon as you can name a virtue that brings in as much revenue.”

  2 For years Napoleon suffered agonies from stones in the bladder. The pain undermined his health and prematurely aged him. Before giving a public audience, he was seen once to hold his arm against the flame of a candle in an attempt to find some relief through a change of pain.

  3 The battle of Solferino in 1859 was technically a French victory, as the Austrian forces retreated. There was appalling carnage on both sides, and Napoleon, alarmed by unrest at home, made peace three weeks later. “I don’t care for war,” he remarked at the time. “There’s far too much luck in it for my liking.”

  NAPOLEON, Eugène Louis Jean Joseph (1856–79), French pretender to the imperial throne, known as the “Prince Imperial.”

  1 On a holiday at Biarritz, when the Prince Imperial was little more than a toddler, he seemed afraid to enter the sea, so he was picked up and hurled in bodily. He struggled out and ran away as fast as he could, howling in terror. He was caught and soothed, and then an attempt was made to rationalize his fears. Why, he was asked, was he afraid of the sea when he had stood by while soldiers fired off their cannon and had not been frightened? The child thought this one over for a moment, then said, “Because I’m in command of the soldiers, but I’m not in command of the sea.”

  NAPOLEON, Joseph Charles Paul, Prince (1822–91), Bonapartist heir to the French throne.

  1 The courtesan Anna Deslion at one time shared her favors between Plon-Plon and the playwright Lambert Thiboust. Though the rivals met occasionally on the stairs of Anna’s house, neither of them was inclined to make a fuss. “To be dishonored by a prince is something of an honor,” said Thiboust. Plon-Plon was likewise philosophical: “To be deceived by a man of brains is no serious misfortune.”

  NARVÁEZ, Ramón María (1800–68), Spanish general and statesman, prime minister (1844–47, 1856–57, 1864–65, 1866–68).

  1 A priest asked the dying Narváez, “Does your Excellency forgive all your enemies?”

  “I do not have to forgive me enemies,” retorted Narváez. “I have had them all shot.”

  NASH, Ogden (1902–71), US writer of humorous verse.

  1 Radio director Tom Carlson’s dog had chewed up an autographed copy of one of Nash’s works. Though the book was out of print, Carlson finally managed to acquire a replacement. He sent it to Nash, explaining what had happened and asking for another autograph. The book was returned — with the dedication: “To Tom Carlson or his dog — depending on whose taste it best suits.”

  NASSER, Gamal Abdel (1918–70), Egyptian soldier and statesman.

  1 With emotions high on the night before the coup of 1952, one of Nasser’s associates was close to tears. “Tonight there is no room for sentiment,” said Nasser firmly. “We must be ready for the unexpected.” Some minutes later, when the man had regained his composure, he asked Nasser, “Why did you address me in English?” Nasser laughed. “Because Arabic,” he replied, “is hardly a suitable language in which to express the need for calm.”

  In the 1930s Guido Nazzo, an Italian tenor, sang only once in New York. The sole review read: “Guido Nazzo: nazzo guido.”

  — WILLARD R. ESPY,

  Another Almanac of Words at Play

  NAST, Thomas (1840–1902), US cartoonist.

  1 Nast’s greatest campaign was his war against corruption in New York politics during the 1870s. He pilloried the Tammany Hall machine in Harper’s until “Boss” Tweed writhed. “We gotta stop them damned pictures,” Tweed told his henchmen. “I don’t care so much what the papers write about me — my constituents can’t read. But they can see pictures.”

  {It was one of “them damned pictures” that stopped Tweed. After being sentenced to jail, he escaped in 1875 and made his way to Spain. While staying incognito at Vigo he was recognized from one of Nast’s caricatures, arrested, and returned to the United States.}

  NAVRATILOVA, Martina (1956–), US tennis player, born in Czechoslovakia.

  1 Navratilova played singles tennis matches for over twenty years, and was ranked the best woman tennis player in the world. After a time, though, she fell to third place in the ranking. Soon she was playing competitors young enough to be her daughters. But to a comment that she was at last nearing the end of her life in professional sports, she replied, “I’ve been in the twilight of my career longer than most people have had their career.”

  2 When asked about the prospect of life in retirement, she said, “It sure beats the heck out of life after death, that’s for sure.”

  NECKER, Suzanne (1739–94), Swiss society leader; wife of Jacques Necker, finance minister to Louis XVI, and mother of Mme de Staël.

  1 The Marquis de Chastellux was once invited to one of Mme Necker
’s dinner parties. Having arrived early, he was left alone in the drawing-room where he found a notebook under Mme Necker’s chair. Idly leafing through the pages, he discovered that the book contained detailed notes for the dinner-table conversation that evening. He carefully replaced it under the chair and later, during the course of the meal, was amused to hear Mme Necker recite word for word everything she had written down in her notebook.

  NELSON, Horatio, Viscount (1758–1805), British admiral.

  1 Shortly after the loss of his right arm, Nelson was presented to King George III, who congratulated him upon his naval victories, then added prophetically, “But your country has a claim for a bit more of you.”

  2 When he tried to obtain compensation for his lost eye, Nelson was told that no money could be paid without a surgeon’s certificate. Annoyed by this petty bureaucracy, since his wounds were well known, Nelson nevertheless obtained the necessary documentation. As a precaution, he asked the surgeon to make out a second certificate attesting to the obvious loss of his arm. He presented the eye certificate to the clerk, who paid out the appropriate sum, commenting on the smallness of the amount. “Oh, this is only for an eye,” said Nelson. “In a few days I’ll come back for an arm, and probably, in a little longer, for a leg.” Later that week he returned to the office and solemnly handed over the second certificate.

  3 After pursuing the French fleet around the Mediterranean for some weeks, Nelson caught up with it at Alexandria. As preparations were made for the battle, Nelson sat down for dinner with his officers. “Before this time tomorrow I shall have gained a peerage, or Westminster Abbey,” he said to them as they went out to their various stations.

  4 In the middle of the battle of Copenhagen, after the Danish bombardment had continued unabated for three hours, Nelson’s commander, Sir Hyde Parker, sent him the signal to “discontinue action.” Clapping his telescope to his blind eye, Nelson said that he did not see the signal. When the officers around him insisted it was there, he merely reiterated, “I have only one eye — I have a right to be blind sometimes — I really do not see the signal!”

  5 Sir William Hamilton, husband of Nelson’s Emma, behaved with perfect generosity toward his wife’s lover. When he died at an advanced age in 1803, he breathed his last in Emma’s arms, holding Nelson by the hand. He left Nelson a favorite portrait of Emma, done in enamel, and the codicil containing the bequest ended with the words: “God bless him, and shame fall on those who do not say, Amen.”

  6 Before the battle of Trafalgar, Nelson on board HMS Victory discussed their chances with Thomas Masterman Hardy, his captain. Hardy said that, all things considered, he would think the capture of fourteen ships a glorious outcome. “I shall not be satisfied with anything less than twenty,” replied Nelson. He then ordered the sending of his last signal: “ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY MAN WILL DO HIS DUTY.”

  7 (Mortally wounded, Nelson lingered for several hours in fearful agony, but knew before he died that the English had gained a magnificent victory. Robert Southey reports his final moments, after he had given his last orders concerning the fleet.)

  “Presently, calling Hardy back, he said to him in a low voice, ‘Don’t throw me overboard’; and he desired that he might be buried by his parents, unless it should please the king to order otherwise. Then reverting to private feelings: ‘Take care of my dear Lady Hamilton, Hardy; take care of poor Lady Hamilton. — Kiss me, Hardy.’ Hardy knelt down and kissed his cheek; and Nelson said, ‘Now I am satisfied. Thank God, I have done my duty.’ Hardy stood over him in silence for a moment or two, then knelt again and kissed his forehead. ‘Who is that?’ said Nelson; and being informed, he replied, ‘God bless you, Hardy.’ And Hardy then left him — for ever.”

  NERO (AD 37–68), Roman emperor (AD 54–68).

  1 Agrippina was determined to secure the imperial throne for her son despite Claudius’s plans to name Britannicus as his successor. She therefore fed the elderly emperor poisonous mushrooms, and he died in agony without having made plain his wishes concerning the succession. Nero ascended the throne, gave Claudius a splendid funeral, and later deified him. He remarked that mushrooms were indeed the food of the gods, because by eating them Claudius had become divine.

  2 “Pretending to be disgusted by the drab old buildings and narrow, winding streets of Rome, he brazenly set fire to the City; and though a group of ex-consuls caught his attendants, armed with oakum and blazing torches, trespassing on their property, they dared not interfere. He also coveted the sites of several granaries, solidly built in stone, near the Golden House [Nero’s palace]; having knocked down their walls with siege-engines, he set the interiors ablaze. This terror lasted for six days and seven nights, causing many people to take shelter in the tombs….Nero watched the conflagration from the Tower of Maecenas, enraptured by what he called ‘the beauty of the flames’; then put on his tragedian’s costume and sang The Fall of Ilium from beginning to end.”

  3 When he signed his first death warrant, he said, “Why did they teach me how to write?”

  4 Fleeing from Rome with his enemies hard on his heels, Nero took refuge in a villa a few miles out of the city. The four faithful servants who attended him insisted that he should commit suicide honorably, rather than fall into the hands of those who had seized power in Rome. Still obsessed with the greatness of his own gifts as an actor, poet, and singer, Nero watched the men preparing his funeral pyre and as he watched muttered through his tears, “Qualis artifex pereo!” (How great an artist dies here!)

  5 Nero could not bring himself to face death, despite the hopelessness of his situation. Weeping and howling, he first tried to persuade his retinue to commit suicide first, to pave the way for his own death. When they refused, the abandoned despot finally stabbed himself. Only then did a centurion rush in, half-heartedly pretending to staunch Nero’s fatal wound with his cloak. “Too late!” gasped Nero. “But, ah, what loyalty!”

  NERVAL, Gérard de (1808–55), French poet, translator, and playwright.

  1 Gérard de Nerval walked in the gardens of the Palais-Royal in Paris, leading a lobster on a pale blue ribbon. Asked why he did so, he replied that he preferred lobsters to dogs or cats because they could not bark at one, and besides, they knew the secrets of the sea.

  2 For some time Gérard de Nerval had carried around with him an old apron string that, he maintained, was the Queen of Sheba’s garter — or a corset-string belonging to Mme de Maintenon or Marguerite de Valois. In the small hours of the morning of January 26, 1855, he knocked on the door of a dosshouse in a poor quarter of Paris. The concierge heard the knock but decided it was too cold to open up. When daylight dawned, the poet was discovered hanged from some iron railings with the Queen of Sheba’s garter. As a final macabre touch, a pet raven was hovering nearby, repeating the only words it knew: “J’ai soif!” (I’m thirsty!)

  NESBIT, Evelyn (1884–1967), US model and showgirl.

  1 In 1905 Evelyn Nesbit married millionaire Harry K. Thaw. The following year the couple were dining in a smart restaurant when Harry Thaw noticed his wife’s former lover, architect Stanford White, at a nearby table. He walked over, pulled out a gun, and shot his rival three times in the face. Evelyn Thaw’s reaction was memorable: “My, you are in a fix, Harry!”

  NEWMAN, Paul (1925–), US film actor and director.

  1 Despite an extraordinary range of films, as well as a large and fanatical audience, Newman was passed over for an Academy Award for many years. Finally, in the late 1980s, he was given a special award for his body of work — a reward usually given to actors much older, and certainly much less active. As he thanked the Academy, Newman said, “I’m grateful this award didn’t come wrapped in a gift certificate to Forest Lawn.”

  NEWTON, Sir Isaac (1642–1727), British physicist and mathematician.

  1 In an eighteen-month period during 1665 to 1666 the plague forced Newton to leave Cambridge and live in his mother’s house at Woolsthorpe in Lincolnshire (a house that can still be seen
and is preserved as a museum). One day he was sitting in the orchard there, pondering the question of the forces that keep the moon in its orbit, when the fall of an apple led him to wonder whether the force that pulled the apple toward the earth might be the same kind of force that held the moon in orbit round the earth. This train of thought led him eventually to the law of gravitation and its application to the motion of the heavenly bodies.

  2 Newton owned a pet dog called Diamond, which one day knocked over the candle on the scientist’s desk and started a blaze that destroyed records of many years’ research. Newton, viewing the destruction, said only, “O Diamond, Diamond, thou little knowest the damage thou hast done.”

  3 An admirer asked Newton how he had come to make discoveries in astronomy that went far beyond anything achieved by anyone before him. “By always thinking about them,” replied Newton simply.

  4 Newton once lived next door to a rather inquisitive widow, who was unaware of her neighbor’s identity and renown. The lady was visited one day by a Fellow of the Royal Society of London, to whom she related the strange behavior of “the poor crazy gentleman” next door. “Every morning,” she said, “when the sun shines so brightly that we are obliged to draw the window-blinds, he takes his seat in front of a tub of soap-suds and occupies himself for hours blowing bubbles through a common clay pipe and intently watches them until they burst.” Following his hostess to the window, the visitor saw Newton at his work. Turning to the widow, he said, “The person you suppose to be a poor lunatic is none other than the great Sir Isaac Newton, studying the refraction of light upon thin plates — a phenomenon which is beautifully exhibited upon the surface of common soap bubbles.”