4 Webster was not chosen to be valedictorian of his Dartmouth class, an honor he felt he deserved. When he received his diploma, he led a group of friends behind the college, where he ripped up the document, saying, “My industry can make me a great man, but this miserable parchment cannot!”
5 A friend advised young Webster not to attempt to enter the legal profession, which was already overcrowded and posed formidable obstacles to a man without either money or family connections to help him. “There’s always room at the top,” said Webster calmly.
6 Daniel Webster met Grace Fletcher, who was to become his first wife, when he was a young lawyer at Portsmouth. He was allowed to call on her, and on one of his visits was making himself useful by holding skeins of silk thread for her. Suddenly he stopped and said, “Grace, we have been engaged in untying knots; let us see if we can tie a knot which will not untie for a lifetime.” Then Webster took a piece of tape and began to tie a complicated knot in it, which he gave to her to complete — this they regarded as the ceremony of their engagement.
7 At the beginning of his legal career, Daniel Webster was engaged as associate counsel by a lawyer acting for a gentleman from Grafton County. The lawyer made known his choice to the client, who asked if this was Daniel Webster, son of old Ebenezer of Salisbury. Receiving an affirmative reply, he cried, “What! That little black stable-boy who once brought me some horses! Then I think we might as well give up the case.” It was too late to engage another associate counsel, and the case went ahead. The dejected client sat in court, not listening to the proceedings. Then he found that his attention was gradually arrested by the associate counsel’s voice. He was held spellbound until the end of the speech. The lawyer turned to his client and asked, “What do you think of him now?”
“Think! Why, I think he is an angel sent down from Heaven to save me from ruin, and my wife and children from misery!”
8 (Webster had an immensely impressive presence, especially in court, where his magnificent voice and his dark, beetle-browed eyes were of great advantage. Van Wyck Brooks recounts the story of how Daniel Webster looked a witness out of court.)
“He had set his great eyes on the man and searched him through and through; then, as the cause went on, and this fellow’s perjury was not yet called for, Webster looked round again to see if he was ready for the inquisition. The witness felt for his hat and edged toward the door. A third time Webster looked on him, and the witness could sit no longer. He seized his chance and fled from the court and was nowhere to be found.”
9 A Nantucket gentleman stopped a friend in the street and told him, “I am in trouble and wish your advice.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Oh, I’m in a lawsuit, and Webster is against me. What shall I do?”
“My advice is that your only chance of escape is to send to Smyrna and import a young earthquake.”
10 The lawyer Jeremiah Mason was Webster’s colleague and friend in Portsmouth. The two were often opposed in important cases, and performed impressively against each other in court. One day when a new case was called, the clerk of the court asked who was counsel on each side. “Which side are you on in this case?” Mason asked Webster. “I don’t know,” said Webster. “Take your choice.”
11 Daniel Webster attended a particularly illustrious dinner party. After the ladies had retired, the host produced a bottle of Madeira for the gentlemen. The wine, he said, had been bottled by his grandfather more than seventy years before. One of the guests did some calculations on the back of a letter and remarked that if the wine was worth 25 cents when bottled, its present value at current interest would reach $100. At that moment a servant announced that the carriage had arrived to take Mr. Webster to a ball given in his honor. Some of the guests escorted Webster to his carriage. As one of them was folding up the carriage step after he had climbed in, he found Webster’s foot in the way, and asked whether he wished to alight. “Yes,” said Webster quickly, “I want to go back and help our mathematical friend stop the interest on that damned expensive bottle of wine.”
WEBSTER, Noah (1758–1843), US lexicographer. His American Dictionary of the English Language (1828) was the forerunner of a great procession of American dictionaries bearing the name Webster in their titles.
1 Going unexpectedly into the parlor of their house one day, Mrs. Webster discovered her husband embracing their maid. “Noah, I am surprised!” she exclaimed. Webster released the maid and reassumed his professional dignity. “No, my dear,” he corrected his wife, “it is I who am surprised; you are merely astonished.”
2 When Webster arrived in Philadelphia on a visit, he was met by Benjamin Rush, who greeted him by saying, “My dear friend, I congratulate you on your arrival in Philadelphia.” “Sir,” replied Webster, “you may congratulate Philadelphia on the occasion.”
WEIZMANN, Chaim (1874–1952), Jewish statesman; first president of Israel (1949–52).
1 As a chemist at Manchester University, Weiz-mann came into the constituency of the Conservative politician Arthur Balfour. There was a proposal at that time to establish a Jewish “homeland” in Uganda, a suggestion hotly countered by the Zionists. A mediator arranged for Weizmann to meet Balfour to put him straight on the unacceptability of Uganda and to explain the emotional and spiritual attraction of Palestine. Trying to get this idea across to Balfour, Weizmann said, “Just suppose, Mr. Balfour, I were to offer you Paris instead of London; would you accept it?” Balfour, off guard, said somewhat crassly, “But, Dr. Weizmann, we already have London.” Replied Weizmann: “But we had Jerusalem when London was a marsh.”
WELLES, Orson (1915–85), US film actor and director.
1 When Welles was given a tour of the Hollywood studio where he would be able to make his first film, Citizen Kane, he clapped his hands in delight, saying, “It’s the biggest train set a boy ever had.”
2 One Saturday during the production of his film The Lady from Shanghai, Welles decided that a certain set needed repainting for the following Monday’s filming. Having been told by production manager Jack Fier that this was quite impossible, Welles gathered together a group of friends. They broke into the paint department late on Saturday evening, repainted the set themselves, and left a huge sign over the entrance to the studio: “THE ONLY THING WE HAVE TO FEAR IS FIER HIMSELF.” When the official set painters arrived for work on Monday, they immediately called a strike. Fier was obliged to pay a hefty sum to each member of the crew as compensation for the work done by nonunion labor. He deducted the money from Welles’s fee and had a new banner painted “ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELLES.” Whereupon the two men, bitter enemies up to that point, called a truce and ultimately became great friends.
3 Film director Vincent Korda and his son Michael once had to chase Orson Welles, who was running from contract obligations, across Europe. Landing in Venice, Naples, Capri, and Nice, they finally caught up with him in Cagnes-sur-Mer and hoisted him off to a private airplane. Michael and Welles shared the back seats with a giant basket of fruit, which Vincent had carefully selected in Nice, wedged between them. Michael eventually fell asleep. When he awoke, he eyed the basket — and realized that Welles had systematically taken a single bite out of each piece of fruit. Having thus effectively destroyed Vincent’s fruit, Welles now slept soundly, his immaculate appearance marred only by a few spots of juice on his shirt front.
WELLINGTON, Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of (1769–1852), British general and statesman, nicknamed “the Iron Duke.”
1 On a sea voyage the vessel in which Wellington was traveling encountered a violentstorm and seemed in imminent danger of sinking. The captain came to Wellington’s cabin at dusk and said, “It will soon be all over with us.” Wellington, about to go to bed, replied, “Very well, then I shall not take off my boots.”
2 When the young Arthur Wellesley was in India, he was in charge of negotiations after the battle of Assaye with an emissary of an Indian ruler who was anxious to know what territories would be cede
d to his master as a result of the treaty. Having tried various approaches and found that the general was not to be drawn on the subject, the Indian offered him five lacs of rupees (about £50,000) for the information. “Can you keep a secret?” asked Wellesley. “Yes, indeed,” said the Indian eagerly. “So can I,” said Wellesley.
3 Wellington’s soldiers nicknamed him “Old Nosey” on account of his prominent nose. Riding up one day during his Spanish campaigns to inspect an exposed position, Wellington, about to be challenged, forgot the countersign. The sentry, an Irishman, nonetheless brought his musket to the salute and said, “God bless your crooked nose; I would rather see it than ten thousand men!”
4 During the Peninsular War a detachment of energetic but inexperienced young officers arrived to strengthen Wellington’s forces. Wellington observed, “I don’t know what effect they will have upon the enemy, but by God, they frighten me.”
5 Although the cavalry regiments tended to get more of the limelight, Wellington was fully aware of the crucial importance of the infantry. A few weeks before the battle of Waterloo an Englishman encountered the duke in a square in Brussels and asked if he thought he could defeat Napoleon. Wellington pointed to a soldier from one of the infantry regiments, who was doing some off-duty sightseeing in the town. “It all depends upon that article there,” he said. “Give me enough of it, and I am sure.”
6 At one point during the battle of Waterloo an officer commanding a gun battery sent a message to Wellington saying that he could clearly discern Napoleon among the enemy troops, his guns were in position, and he requested permission to fire. Wellington forbade him. “It is not the business of generals to shoot one another.”
7 At Waterloo, the Marquess of Anglesey, who was in command of the British, Hanoverian, and Belgian horse, was standing by the Duke of Wellington when a shot hit his right knee. “By God, sir,” he remarked to Wellington, “I have lost my leg.” “By God, I believe you have,” replied Wellington laconically.
8 Traveling to Belgium from his great victory at Waterloo, he was mobbed by a crowd of ecstatic citizens. Asked if he was pleased by the turnout, Wellington replied in the negative. “Not in the least; if I had failed they would have shot me.”
9 The hero of Waterloo was sitting in his office one day when the door flew open and a man rushed in, crying, “I must kill you!” Wellington did not raise his head from his papers. He merely said, “Does it have to be today?” The intruder looked confused. “Well, they didn’t tell me … but soon, surely,” he replied. “Good,” said Wellington briskly. “A little later on then, I’m busy at the moment.” The man withdrew and was promptly seized by the police, who had been informed that there was an escaped lunatic on the rampage.
10 At Vienna Wellington was compelled to sit through a performance of Beethoven’s Battle of Victoria (or, Wellington’s Victory). Afterward a Russian envoy asked him if the music had been anything like the real thing. “By God, no,” said the duke. “If it had been like that I’d have run away myself.”
11 When some French officers, cut to the heart at France’s defeat, turned their backs on Wellington at Vienna, an onlooker spoke sympathetically to the snubbed duke. Wellington smiled. “I have seen their backs before, madam,” he said.
12 When Sir John Steell was executing the colossal equestrian statue of Wellington to be placed in Edinburgh, he was troubled by the fact that his sitter did not look particularly warlike. All his efforts to get a more animated expression, by urging the duke to recall the glorious victories of the Peninsular campaigns and Waterloo, failed to produce their effect. At last in desperation, he suggested that he should model the duke as he was on the morning of the Battle of Salamanca, “as you galloped about the field inspiring your troops to deeds of valor.” The duke snorted. “If you really want to model me as I was on the morning of Salamanca, you must show me crawling along a ditch on my stomach, holding a telescope.”
13 Lord Douro, the duke’s eldest son, was extraordinarily like him in appearance. A lady once asked the duke if the numerous caricatures of him that had been published had ever annoyed him. “Not a bit, not a bit,” said Wellington, then added after a pause, “There is only one caricature that has ever caused me annoyance — Douro.”
14 Sparrows invaded the newly built Crystal Palace and became trapped under the glass roof, with predictably messy results for the exhibits and visitors. Queen Victoria sought the views of her eldest statesman on how to deal with the problem.
“Sparrowhawks, ma’am,” was Wellington’s laconic advice.
15 The French actress Mlle George boasted that she had slept with both Napoleon and Wellington. Asked in later life who was the better lover, she replied, “Ah, monsieur, le duc était de beaucoup le plus fort” (Ah, sir, the duke was by far the more vigorous).
16 Wellington once came upon a little boy sitting at the side of the road, crying as if his heart would break. “Come now, that’s no way for a young gentleman to behave. What’s the matter?” he asked. “I have to go away to school tomorrow,” sobbed the child, “and I’m worried about my pet toad. There’s no one else to care for it and I shan’t know how it is.” The duke reassured him, promising to attend to the matter personally. After the boy had been at school for little more than a week, he received the following letter: “Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Master ——— and has the pleasure to inform him that his toad is well.”
17 In his later years Wellington resented any kind of attention that implied he was decrepit. One evening, as Wellington was waiting to cross Piccadilly to reach his house, a gentleman nearly as old forcibly took the Duke’s arm and made a considerable parade of escorting him across the busy thoroughfare. “I thank you, sir,” said Wellington when he reached his door. The other clasped his hand and broke into effusive speech, concluding with, “I never dared to hope that I might see the day when I might render the slightest assistance to the greatest man that ever lived.” Wellington surveyed him serenely. “Don’t be a damn fool, sir,” he said, and walked into his house.
WELLS, H[erbert] G[eorge] (1866–1946), British novelist.
1 On leaving a Cambridge party, Wells accidentally picked up a hat that did not belong to him. Discovering his mistake, he decided not to return the headgear to its rightful owner, whose label was inside the brim. The hat fit Wells comfortably; furthermore, he had grown to like it. So he wrote to the erstwhile owner: “I stole your hat; I like your hat; I shall keep your hat. Whenever I look inside it I shall think of you and your excellent sherry and of the town of Cambridge. I take off your hat to you.”
2 At a dinner one evening H. G. Wells expounded his theory that mankind had failed. The dinosaur had failed because he had concentrated upon size. Homo sapiens had failed because he had not developed the right type of brain. So, Wells claimed, we will first destroy ourselves, then die out as a species, and revert to mud and slime. “And we shall deserve it,” he added. One of the guests objected that surely it wouldn’t be as bad as that. “One thousand years more,” said Wells. “That’s all Homo sapiens has before him.”
3 Wells refused to leave his London home during the Blitz, but the writer Elizabeth Bowen found him one evening after an air raid alert shaking with fright. “It’s not the bombs,” Wells told her. “It’s the dark; I’ve been afraid of darkness all my life.”
4 (C. P. Snow recounts a sobering conservation with H. G. Wells that took place well after midnight in a hotel lounge, where they were sitting under the potted palms, glasses of whiskey by their chairs. Snow comments that Wells’s bursts of intimacy tended to be lugubrious.)
“Untypically for [Wells] the conversation tailed off. The silences got longer and longer. Without any introduction, he broke into the quiet. It was a simple question. He said, ‘Ever thought of suicide, Snow?’ I reflected. I said, ‘Yes, H. G., I have.’ He replied, ‘So have I. But not till I was past seventy.’ He was then seventy-two. We drank some more whisky and looked sombrely at the palms.”
WERFEL, Alma Mahler (1879–1964), wife of composer Gustav Mahler, then architect Walter Gropius, and finally writer Franz Werfel.
1 The German playwright Gerhart Haupt-mann was a great admirer of Alma’s, although he had never been her lover. He said to her, “Alma, in another life we two must be lovers. May I make my reservation now?” Frau Hauptmann was standing close enough to overhear her husband’s remark. “Oh, darling,” she said, “I am sure Alma will be booked up there, too.”
WESLEY, John (1703–91), British religious leader.
1 At a stormy meeting a ruffian raised his hand to strike John Wesley on the head, but as he brought it down he checked his blow and murmured, “What soft hair he has!”
2 Preaching one day, Wesley noticed that some of his congregation were fast asleep. “Fire! Fire!” he suddenly cried. The sleepers awoke with a start and leaped to their feet. “Where?” they asked, looking anxiously around them. “In hell,” replied Wesley, “for those who sleep under the preaching of the word.”
WEST, Mae (1892–1980), US movie star and actress; the sex symbol of the 1930s.
1 “Goodness, Mae,” said a friend, on greeting her, “where did you get those beautiful pearls?”
“Never mind,” said Mae West, “but you can take it from me that goodness had nothing to do with it.”
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