Famous Last Words

By Artemis Gouros

When I envisage my death I see myself going out in a blaze of verbal glory with a beautifully crafted yet spontaneous comment. I sincerely hope that in my last moments I will be inspired to say something memorable, witty and profound however I suspect that I will not fulfil this dream. If I am lucky and avoid misadventure, I will probably pass away painlessly in a sterile mid to late 21st century hospital surrounded by grandnieces. They will be kindly patting mad old aunty’s hand and trying to remember what level they parked the hover car on as I valiantly try to squeeze out a dying retort through toothless gums.

I blame it all squarely on progress. A hundred years ago I could have wasted away gracefully for months and used the time to come up with a profound farewell. I can see myself in the last stages of consumption, thin and with a hectic flush to my cheeks but miraculously not in pain, giving pathetic little coughs as grieving people cluster around my bed mourning the tragedy of my demise. There is little chance of that happening today and while death by consumption was undoubtedly horrible for the sufferer there is no denying it lends a certain romance to what must come to us all in the end, namely the inevitable exit from this mortal plane.

There is also the added problem of fame. I don’t have any and for your dying breath to be recorded for posterity and written about you have to be either notorious or renowned. I will not give up hope though. In my pursuit of dying with a future quote on my lips, the sort of thing they print on desk calendars, I have researched the last words of others and come across some startling statements from royalty, politicians and artists.

One thing that seems to characterise many famous dying quotations is the impatience factor. So many of the brilliant minds and glamorous personages of history seemed to view their impending death as an inconvenient interruption or a guest that has arrived too early.

There are many examples of people impatiently demanding more time.

My favourite is over two thousand years old. The greatest mathematician of the Hellenistic Age, Archimedes of Syracuse (298-212 BC), reportedly said to the Roman soldier intent on killing him; “Wait till I have finished my problem!”

Some of us always like to look our best and a perfect example of this can be found in 18th century France where the mistress of Louis XV, Madame de Pompadour (1721-1764), requested that God; “Wait a second”, while she applied some rouge before dying.

I appreciated the humorous quotes I came across, wit in the face of death is something to which more people should aspire. A parting joke I particularly liked came from Lady Astor (1879-1964), the first female member of Parliament, who upon discovering her entire family ranged around her sickbed quipped; “Am I dying or is this my birthday?”
Another admirable trait I discovered was that some men remain
perfect gentlemen to the last especially in the case of John Jacob Astor IV (1864-1912), who gave up his seat on one of the last lifeboats to leave the Titanic to a female passenger telling his young pregnant wife; “The ladies have to go first…Get in the lifeboat, to please me…Goodbye dearie. I’ll see you later.”

Nobly facing death is commendable but so is facing it politely. King Charles II (1630-1685), proved he was considerate of others when he said to the people who attended him during his demise; “I have been a most unconscionable time dying, but I beg you to excuse it.” He has also been credited as asking his friends not to let his mistress starve after he died, further proof of his impeccable manners.

While behaving like a gentleman is all very right and proper there is such a thing as misplaced courtesy as
illustrated by the unfailingly polite words of one French Queen. Marie Antoinette (1755-1793), allegedly trod on her executioner’s foot and on her way to the guillotine and said; “Pardonnez-moi, monsieur.”
Being considerate of your executioner is not necessary in my book but bravery in the face of being put to death is definitely praiseworthy. Jean Sylvain Bailly (1736-1793), the revolutionary mayor of Paris, showed remarkable self possession whilst waiting for the guillotine to drop. A spectator apparently jibed at the fact Bailly was trembling to which he replied; “Only from the cold, my friend.”

I have learnt that if you are going to be executed you stand a good chance of being quoted ever after. The old method of beheading left more time to say something meaningful and provided a suitably dramatic environment in which to say it. A philosophical approach is laudable but would be, I fear, a little hard to achieve. The unfortunate Anne Boleyn (1507-1536), second wife of Henry VIII, said to the Constable of the Tower who tried to comfort her the day before her death; “The executioner is, I believe, very expert, and my neck is very slender”. Her actual last words however were a plea for God to have pity on her soul as she laid her blindfolded head onto the executioner’s block.

Not everyone goes quietly however nor will some be hurried. A good example of a healthy antagonism toward being executed was demonstrated by Frances ‘Two Gun’ Crowley (1900-1931). Sentenced to electrocution for robbery and murder he said; “You sons of bitches. Give my love to mother.” And Ethan Allen (1738-1789), a US patriot who led the Green Mountain Boys during the American Revolution, had little patience for the doctor who tried to soothe him by saying the angels were waiting for him; “Waiting are they? Waiting are they? Well – let ‘em wait.”

I also enjoyed reading about those who behaved true to form right until the end. The actress Tallulah Bankhead (1902-1968), famous for her outrageous behaviour and enormous appetite for illegal substances, managed to whisper a request for; “Codeine…bourbon”, before slipping into a coma in a New York City hospital. Another example is the French grammarian Dominique Bouhours (1628-1702), who remained pedantic to the last saying; “I am about to – or I am going to – die; either expression is used.”

Fighting back and knowing when to give up is a quality most have a high regard for and Julius Caesar (100-44 BC), certainly did both! Caesar was set upon in the Senate on the Ides of March and despite being outnumbered he fought until he realised that his trusted friend Brutus was part of the conspiracy. Resigned to his fate he said to the treacherous Brutus before falling to the ground; “You too, Brutus?”. Many however believe that Caesar would have spoken (if in fact he said anything at all) in the Greek of the times and so it would have been; “You too, my son?”

In our sterile and homogenised world we are afforded less and less opportunities to impart anything of great interest on our deathbeds. No one has the location of a buried treasure to reveal, with our relaxed social rules there is no need to confess to parentage or adultery and lawyers ensure that debts are not overlooked as in the case of Socrates.

Despite all this I am determined however to leave a lasting impression in the minds of all who witness my end. Perhaps my time would be better employed in hoping there are people there to see me off and living my life accordingly but I can’t get past the desire to have a final starring moment before the curtain drops forever. Of course, if there is nobody around to hear me croak my last I can always follow William Saroyan’s example and call my comment in to the papers although this, in its lack of spontaneity, would be a last resort.

My favourite famous last words of them all is a quote that strikes a chord with me. Were I ever to attain the kind of celebrity that would motivate anyone to hang on my final mutterings, I would probably say something similar to the words uttered by the assassinated Mexican folk hero and revolutionary, Pancho Villa. As he lay dying Pancho Villa said to newspaper reporters on the scene: “Don’t let it end like this. Tell them I said something.”