Bartlett's Book of Anecdotes

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Bartlett's Book of Anecdotes Page 68

by Clifton Fadiman


  MELBA, Dame Nellie [Helen Porter Armstrong, née Mitchell] (1861–1931), Australian opera singer.

  1 According to the traditional account, the invention of Melba toast was an accident. While Dame Nellie Melba was staying at the Savoy Hotel in London, whoever prepared the star’s toast left it too long in the oven and it was brought to her in a thin, dried-up, fragile state. When the maître d’hôtel hastened to apologize, Dame Nellie cut him short, saying the toast was delicious.

  2 Opera, in the days before World War I, was often a much more emotional experience than it became in later years. Nellie Melba played Desdemona so heartrendingly during tours of America that many women in the audience burst into tears when she was strangled by Otello. If the applause was particularly persistent, Nellie would rise from her deathbed and signal for a piano to be brought on to the stage. She would then accompanying herself for an encore by singing Home, Sweet Home, with the audience joining in. When the ovation following the encore died down, she would collapse again upon the bed and the unfortunate Otello was allowed to finish the act.

  MELBOURNE, William Lamb, 2d Viscount (1779–1848), British statesman; prime minister (1834, 1835–41).

  1 In Dublin as secretary for Ireland, Lamb very quickly assessed the way in which the government there worked and was regarded by the Irish. The young son of one of his subordinates came in to be shown the office one day. “Is there anything here you would like?” asked Lamb, gesturing toward the top of his desk. The child selected a stick of official red sealing wax. “Quite right, my boy,” said the secretary for Ireland, pressing some pens into his hand as well, “begin life early. All the things here belong to the public, and it’s your business to get as much out of the public as you can.”

  2 Lord Melbourne had a strong distaste for religious zeal. Having been forced to sit through an evangelical sermon on the consequences of sin, he grumbled, “Things have come to a pretty pass when religion is allowed to invade private life.”

  3 Melbourne also had little patience with the ecclesiastical squabbles of the day and frequently ran into difficulties over the appointment of bishops, particularly as he favored the more liberal theologians in the church hierarchy. Consequently, he was distressed when the death of a bishop entailed a vacancy in the House of Lords which it was the prime minister’s duty to fill. “Damn it! Another bishop dead! I think they die just to vex me.”

  4 When the death in 1832 of the poet George Crabbe was announced, Lord Melbourne observed, “I am always glad when one of these fellows dies, for then I know I have the whole of him on my shelf.”

  MELLON, Andrew William (1855–1937), US financier, secretary of the Treasury, art collector, and philanthropist.

  1 (The writer Lucius Beebe recalls a breakfast at the Mellon establishment.)

  “The old man was very fond of thin little hot cakes and sausages, and their service was ritual. One morning in the midst of their presentation, one at a time by the day footman, another lackey brought in the telephone on a cord and announced that the Minister of Finance of France wished to speak with Mr. Mellon on the transocean. ‘Not with the hot cakes,’ said the old gentleman testily…. ‘These foreigners have no sense of propriety.’”

  MELVILLE, Herman (1819–91), US novelist.

  1 On a visit one evening to Nathaniel Hawthorne and his wife, Melville told them a story of a fight he had witnessed on an island in the South Seas, in which one of the Polynesian warriors had wreaked havoc among his foes with a heavy club. Striding about the room, Melville demonstrated the feats of valor and the desperate drama of the battle. After he had gone, Mrs. Hawthorne thought she remembered that he had left empty-handed, and wondered, “Where is that club with which Mr. Melville was laying about him so?” Mr. Hawthorne maintained that he must have taken it with him, and indeed a search of the room revealed nothing. The next time they saw him they asked what had happened to the club. It turned out that there was no club; it had simply been a figment of their imagination, conjured up by the vividness of Melville’s narrative.

  MENCKEN, H[enry] L[ouis] (1880–1945), US critic and journalist.

  1 Mencken coined his own epitaph: “If after I depart this vale, you ever remember me and have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner and wink your eye at some homely girl.”

  MENELIK II (1844–1913), emperor of Ethiopia (1889–1913).

  1 In the late nineteenth century, news of the success of the electric chair as a means of dispatching criminals reached Ethiopia. Menelik II eagerly ordered one. When it arrived, however, he was disappointed to find that it did not work: no one had warned him that Ethiopia’s lack of electricity would be a problem. The criminals of the nation sighed with relief and the emperor, anxious that his new acquisition should not go to waste, had the chair converted into a throne.

  2 The emperor had one eccentricity. If he felt unwell, he was convinced that he had only to eat a few pages of the Bible in order to feel better. This odd behavior did him little harm, as long as his testamentary intake was modest. However, in December 1913 he was recovering from a stroke, when he suddenly felt extremely ill. On his instructions the complete Book of Kings was torn from the Bible and fed to him, page by page. He died before he had consumed the entire book.

  MENSHIKOV, Alexander Sergeievich, Prince (1787–1869), Russian general, commander in chief of the Russian forces during the Crimean War.

  1 During a sortie near Sevastopol a young British army officer was captured by the Russians, who searched him and found a number of letters in his possession. The man was particularly reluctant to part with one from his sweetheart, but the Russians insisted on having it and it was sent to Prince Menshikov along with the others. When the prince read it, he was amused to find that the girl had written flippantly that she hoped her young man would have the good fortune to capture Prince Menshikov and that if he did so he was to be sure to send her one of his buttons. Much to the man’s surprise the letter was returned to him, along with a note from Menshikov and a button. The note said that although events had not happened quite as the lady had envisaged, nonetheless here was one of Prince Menshikov’s buttons and it was to be sent to her.

  MERMAN, Ethel (1909–84), US entertainer.

  1 During Mary Martin’s Broadway run in Leave It to Me! Ethel Merman was asked her opinion of her rival. “Well,” replied Ethel rather tartly, “if you like talent …”

  MESSIER, Charles (1730–1817), French astronomer.

  1 Nursing his dying wife, Messier was obliged to abandon his search for a certain comet. In the meantime, the comet was discovered by a rival astronomer, Montaigue of Limoges. A friend, hearing of the death of Mme Messier, expressed his sympathy for Messier’s loss. The astronomer nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes filling with tears. “To think that when I had discovered twelve,” he said, “this Montaigue should have got my thirteenth.”

  METAXAS, Ioannis (1871–1941), Greek general.

  1 During a visit of inspection to an air base Metaxas was invited to test a new flying boat. He took the aircraft up for a short flight and was coming in to land when the commander of the base intervened: “Excuse me, General; it would be better to come down on the water; this is a flying boat.” Metaxas, who had been about to put the aircraft down on a runway, swerved quickly upward, made another circuit, and touched the flying boat down safely on the surface of the water. Metaxas switched off the engine and turned to his host. “Thank you, Commander, for preventing me from making a stupid blunder” — and so saying, briskly opened the aircraft’s door and jumped out into the water.

  METTERNICH, Klemens, Prince von (1773–1859), Austrian statesman.

  1 Metternich, who had a contempt for the average Englishman’s inability to speak French fluently, observed to Lord John Dudley that he was the only Englishman he knew who could speak French well: “The common people of Vienna speak French better than the educated men of London.” Lord Dudley replied, “That may be so, but Your Highness will recall that Bonaparte has not been tw
ice in London to teach them.”

  METTERNICH, Princess Pauline [née Countess Sándor] (1859–1921), autocratic wife of Prince Richard Metternich (1829–95).

  1 The princess was traveling on a train one day toward Compiègne. The other occupant of her compartment asked politely if smoking would bother her. The princess replied: “I have no idea, monsieur. No one has ever dared to smoke in my presence.”

  MEURISSE, Paul (1912–79), French actor.

  1 Meurisse, renowned for his taciturnity, once caught sight of a sign in a florist’s window: SAY IT WITH FLOWERS. He went in and asked for a rose. “Just one,” he told the young clerk. “To be delivered to this address with my card.” The girl picked out a delicate red rose and asked, “Is there any message?” Meurisse took the flower and plucked out all the petals except two. “There you are,” he said, handing back the mutilated bloom. “And even then, I wonder if I haven’t said too much.”

  MEYERBEER, Giacomo (1791–1864), German pianist and opera composer.

  1 Meyerbeer took care to be on good terms with the Parisian critics, a policy he was able to implement with the help of his great wealth. Heinrich Heine was among those convinced by the lavishness of Meyerbeer’s generosity that his forthcoming works were very good indeed. Unfortunately for the impoverished critic, Meyerbeer suddenly cut off the flow of funds just at a moment when Heine’s resources were especially depleted. Heine avenged himself by remarking, “Meyerbeer will be immortal while he lives and maybe for a little while after, because he always pays in advance.”

  2 The rival composers Meyerbeer and Rossini, though polite, cordially disliked each other. One day Rossini was complaining to Meyerbeer that he felt in the lowest possible spirits, bored, melancholy, and so forth. Meyerbeer consoled him: “You listen to too much of your own music.”

  3 In 1839 a young German composer left his native land for Paris, where he hoped to obtain recognition for his work. One of his compatriots referred him to Meyerbeer, who received the young German amiably enough and gave him a sealed letter of recommendation to Léon Pillet, at that time director of the Opéra. What the letter actually contained were the words: “Take this imbecile off my hands.”

  The imbecile was Richard Wagner.

  MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI (1475–1564), Italian sculptor, architect, painter, and poet.

  1 One day Michelangelo happened to overhear a group of people admiring his Pietà. One man attributed the sculpture to Il Gobbo, much to the chagrin of Michelangelo, who took particular pride in the Pietà. Returning to the sculpture after dark that evening, he carved his name on it, so that no similar mistake could occur in the future.

  2 The figures Michelangelo completed for the Medici tombs ordered by Pope Clement VII represent the members of the family in highly idealized form. Someone remarked on this absence of realism. “Who will care,” replied the sculptor, “in a thousand years’ time, whether these are their features or not?”

  3 The pope’s master of ceremonies pestered Michelangelo to allow him a glimpse of the Last Judgment fresco before the artist was ready to unveil it. Michelangelo took his revenge by including the official among the damned in hell, being tormented by devils. When the master of ceremonies complained to Pope Paul III, the latter replied: “God has given me authority in heaven and on earth, but my writ does not extend to hell. You will just have to put up with it.”

  4 Michelangelo was once assisted in his work by a marble-hewer, who, by following Michelangelo’s detailed instructions — “Cut this away…level that…polish here” — was amazed to find that he had created a splendid marble figure. “What do you think of it?” asked Michelangelo. “I think it’s fine,” replied the man, “and I am much obliged to you. By your means I have discovered a talent that I did not know I possessed.”

  5 A certain painter had produced a picture that was a pastiche of details stolen from other artists. Asked by a friend his opinion of the picture, Michelangelo praised the workmanship but added wryly, “I don’t know what will become of this scene on the Day of Judgement, when all the bodies shall recover their members, for there will be nothing left of it.”

  6 A priest once remarked to Michelangelo that it was a pity that he had not married and had many children to whom he could have bequeathed his works. Michelangelo answered, “I have too much of a wife in this art of mine, which has afflicted me throughout my life, and my children shall be the works I leave. What would have become of Lorenzo Ghiberti’s reputation if he had not made the gates of San Giovanni? His children and grandchildren sold or squandered all he left, but the gates are still standing.”

  7 Michelangelo began the Rondanini Pietà when he was nearly ninety. The effort of cutting the marble exhausted him and revealed how far his power and genius had withered with age. He himself was tragically aware of his decline. One night Vasari, visiting the old sculptor, found his eyes irresistibly drawn to the unfinished Pietà standing in a corner. Michelangelo said, “I am so old that death often plucks at my mantle to bear me away, and one day my body will fall — like this.” As he spoke he dropped the lantern he had been holding, cutting off the scene from Vasari’s eyes.

  MICHELET, Jules (1798–1874), French historian.

  1 The July Revolution of 1830, which ousted the autocratic Charles X and ushered in the constitutional monarchy of Louis Philippe, broke out on July 27, when Michelet was delivering a lecture at the École Normale. As the sound of cannon fire became audible, the students grew restless. “Gentlemen,” Michelet said, “they are making history. We shall write it.”

  MIES VAN DER ROHE, Ludwig (1886–1969), German architect.

  1 Mies van der Rohe did not believe that an architect should indulge in self-expression. Once a student asked him for his opinion on this subject. He handed her a pencil and paper and told her to write her name. When she had done so, he said, “That’s for self-expression. Now we get to work.”

  MILL, John Stuart (1806–73), British political philosopher and social reformer.

  1 As John Stuart Mill, in Parliament, was expounding his famous principle of “the greatest good for the greatest number,” Disraeli, from the Tory benches, breathed, “Ah — the nursery governess!”

  MILLAY, Edna St. Vincent (1892–1950), US poet and dramatist.

  1 The poet’s middle name is that of a New York hospital. How did this come about? On a February day in 1892 a young man named Charles Buzzell boarded the ship El Monte, then in New Orleans loading cotton for New York, to watch the loading. Suffering from a slight fever, he fell asleep on a bale of hay, cotton stacked all about him. He awoke in the hold, all hatches battened down. Calls for help were unheard. Nine days later the hold was opened and Charles was found at the foot of the hatchway. The captain rushed him to St. Vincent’s Hospital, where he was given up for dead. But the doctors plus a strong constitution pulled him through. It was said then that he had survived “longer than anyone ever had without food or water.”

  At about that time a little girl was born to Mrs. Henry Tolman Millay, Charles’s sister. She gave the little girl a middle name in memory of the hospital in which her brother had recovered. These facts are recorded in a letter to The New York Times Book Review from Edna’s sister Norma, who concludes, “Had it been Doctor’s Hospital or Lenox Hill, she doubtless would have reconsidered — they wouldn’t scan.”

  MILLER, Arthur (1915–), US dramatist.

  1 “Arthur Miller, sitting alone in a bar, was approached by a well-tailored, slightly tiddly fellow who addressed him thus:

  “ ‘Aren’t you Arthur Miller?’

  “ ‘Why, yes, I am.’

  “ ‘Don’t you remember me?’

  “ ‘Well…your face seems familiar.’

  “ ‘Why, Art, I’m your old buddy Sam! We went to high school together! We went out on double dates!’

  “ ‘I’m afraid I —’

  “ ‘I guess you can see I’ve done all right. Department stores. What do you do, Art?’

  “ ‘Well, I. . . w
rite.’

  “ ‘Whaddya write?’

  “ ‘Plays, mostly.’

  “ ‘Ever get any produced?’

  “ ‘Yes, some.’

  “ ‘Would I know any?’

  “ ‘Well…perhaps you’ve heard of Death of a Salesman?’

  “Sam’s jaw dropped; his face went white. For a moment he was speechless. Then he cried out, ‘Why, you’re ARTHUR MILLER!’”

  MILLIKAN, Robert Andrews (1868–1953), US physicist.

  1 Millikan’s wife was passing through the hall of their home when she overheard the maid answering the telephone. “Yes, this is where Dr. Millikan lives,” she heard the girl say, “but he’s not the kind of doctor that does anybody any good.”

  MILNE, A[lan] A[lexander] (1882–1956), British journalist and writer, best known for his Winnie-the-Pooh.

  1 (Christopher Milne explains how his father tactfully corrected his table manners.)

  “Once, when I was quite little, he came up to the nursery while I was having my lunch. And while he was talking I paused between mouthfuls, resting my hands on the table, knife and fork pointing upwards. ‘You oughtn’t really to sit like that,’ he said, gently. ‘Why not?’ I asked, surprised. ‘Well…,’ he hunted around for a reason he could give. Because it’s considered bad manners? Because you mustn’t? Because…‘Well,’ he said, looking in the direction that my fork was pointing, ‘suppose somebody suddenly fell through the ceiling. They might land on your fork and that would be very painful.’ ‘I see,’ I said, though I didn’t really.”

 

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