James J. Montague

While Montague was best known as the writer of "More Truth than Poetry," he also served as an editor at the Hearst papers when required. One of his tasks was completing an "autobiography" of Buffalo Bill Cody, The Great West That Was: "Buffalo Bill's" Life Story, which was serialized in Hearst's International Magazine from August 1916 to July 1917.[9] During the time Montague was working on the manuscript, Cody was a frequent visitor to the writer's New Rochelle home, "usually just in time for lunch or dinner."^[10] This friendliness ended when an installment of the autobiography characterized Wild Bill Hickok as a "bandit," something Cody hadn't approved of and didn't appreciate. As Montague's son Richard wrote in his memoir:

"Father claimed that [Cody had] re-armed himself with his old six guns and was stalking our sire with intent to kill. For several weeks after that we kids lived in delicious dread half-believing that father was in deadly danger. When we went out on a walk with him he'd send us on ahead to look around corners and behind trees to see if Bill Cody was waiting in ambush. The fact that he wasn't only made it more likely that he would be there next time. But he never was."^[11]

By this time the circulation wars between the Hearst and Pulitzer papers were past their "yellow journalism" zenith of the late 1800s, but the two continued to battle for market share and talent. Montague had originally been recruited by Hearst in 1902, and now The World came calling. On June 15, 1919, the paper announced that Montague would join them, bringing with him his poetry column. In the article, Montague was referred to as the "Aladdin of the Newspaper Poets" and a "successor to James Whitcomb Riley," a characterization he may not have appreciated.^[3] While compensation may have played a role in the move, according to his son, more personal factors were also involved:

"[Montague] had had enough of Hearst. In quitting, he said, he felt he had taken a

Turkish bath and got clean again. He admired the publisher's brilliance, capricious generosity and many worthy activities, but he didn't like his persistent distortion of the news and lack of principles. 'He could have been a great man,' father told me once. 'The only thing he lacked was character.' "^[5]

^: 168

Hearst never forgave Montague for moving to the World, yet continued to try to persuade him to return. Years later the publisher met him in the street and asked when he would come back. "Never," Montague said. "Yes, you will," Hearst replied. "Hunger will drive you back."[5]^: 168 The year after Montague left Hearst, a collection of "More Truth than Poetry" columns was published by the George H. Doran Company. ^[12] The book ran 160 pages with a preface by Irvin S. Cobb, and included classic poems such as "The Sleepytown Express,",^[12]: 17 "The Ouija Board"^[12]: 137 and "The Vamp Passes."^[12]: 151

Later in Montague's career, he joined the Bell Syndicate, working out of the editorial room of the New York Herald Tribune. The syndicate distributed both Montague's poems and light fiction pieces, all under his own copyright. One example is "No Appreciation for This Bard," about an out-of-work press agent, which was published in The Washington Post of January 27, 1924. According to The New York Times, Montague wrote six poetry columns a week for nearly 25 years;^[1] at this rate, he produced more than 7,500 examples of "More Truth Than Poetry" over his career.

In addition to writing "More Truth Than Poetry," Montague was keenly interested in the politics of his day.^[1] He covered New York City and New York State events for many years, including the 1913 impeachment trial of Governor William Sulzer^[13] and the 1915 libel case between Albany Times-Union owner and publisher William Barnes Jr., and former President Theodore Roosevelt.^[14][15] Because Montague worked for Hearst, who had no liking of Roosevelt, he had to exercise caution when covering the trial. In Eugene Thwing's 1919 book The Life and Meaning of Theodore Roosevelt, the author wrote:

"At the Barnes-Roosevelt libel trial in Syracuse I came across James J. Montague, a hardened reporter on a highly anti-Roosevelt newspaper, walking up and down and cursing. I asked him what moved him to these expletives. 'Roosevelt, damn him,' said Montague; 'I can't keep hating him if I get anywhere within twenty feet of him, and I'm always accidentally doing it. He's spoiling my story.' "^[16]

Working for Hearst's publications and wire service, Montague covered the national political conventions of

Other, less serious events at the conference also contributed to the legend of his having been the "star" of the press corps:[3]

"[After the conference] a group of American correspondents, including Mr. Montague, shared a luxurious dinner, featured by a tremendous turkey. About to leave for England, Mr. Montague remarked that since it might be a long time before they had another such meal it might be worth while taking the remains of the turkey along. But when they arrived they were rushed to Buckingham Palace and the man with the turkey in the shoebox still had it under his arm. Over the protests of an equerry, he — Montague — is alleged to have still carried the box when presented to His Majesty George V.^[1]

Having jumped to Pulitzer's New York World in 1919, the following year Montague covered the U.S. presidential election for them. "A big convention without 'Jimmy' Montague at the press table would seem scarcely legal," the World magazine wrote in 1919.^[3] Montague also covered the 1924 conventions and election, which was notable for the split within the Democratic Party. In it, front-runners William Gibbs McAdoo and Al Smith fought a war of attrition until, 103 ballots later, John W. Davis was selected as the compromise candidate. Filing daily under the byline "the Looker-On," Montague chronicled the battle with stories such as "16 Candidates Trying to Pick Least Unpopular: Like So Many Jack Horners, They Dig Their Thumbs Into Convention Pie Containing One Plum."^[2]

While Montague was never interested in personally entering politics, he occasionally provided assistance to friends in their campaigns. He had known

Montague came to golf relatively late in life but showed a talent for the game. A member of the

Together with Montague, New York theater impresario John Golden organized the "Knot-Very Social and Musical Frat." The organization had only four other members: Newspaperman and publisher John Neville Wheeler, sports journalist and writer Ring Lardner, American Magazine editor John Sidall, and Grantland Rice. For the members, none of whom had attended college, the organization was miniature fraternity, as much social as athletic.^[5]: 196 According to Rice's biographer William Arthur Harper, "The club got its name from Ring Lardner's habit of commenting on another's tee shot; when one of them would hit a drive, another would say cheerfully, 'Nice shot, old boy.' 'Not very,' Ring Lardner would respond, drolly."^[18] The club's letterhead, designed by Golden, featured a knotted rope above the names of its members, the largest being that of its president, Montague.^[5]: 196

In 1924 artist Lucius Wolcott Hitchcock introduced Montague to illustrator Coles Phillips, also a resident of New Rochelle. A noted pigeon fancier, Phillips suggested to Montague that they could make a substantial amount of money raising and selling squabs to restaurants and hotels. The breed chosen was the red carneau. Together they bought four acres of land on Webster Avenue near the Wykagyl Country Club, built a row of pigeon houses and installed 4,000 birds. The result, called the Silver Ring Squab Farm, had set the two back a total of $15,000.^{[5]: 247 [19]}

Their dreams of pigeon-born wealth went anything but smoothly, however: A local mobster reputedly demanded a portion of the proceeds, while hotels had a habit of canceling orders. Friends were interested, but more in eating squab than paying for them. Not long after, Phillips contracted tuberculosis, and he and his wife left for Europe. Now sole manager of the farm, Montague put in thousands more to keep it afloat. Salvation came in the form of Westchester County, which wanted to buy the land to construct the Hutchinson River Parkway.^[5]: 247 Phillips later returned from Europe seemingly healthy, but died in 1927 at age 47.^[20]

While Montague once seemed tireless, his health began to fail in the 1930s. His last daily poem appeared in the New York Herald Tribune on May 16, 1936. "When he retired, the newspaper used free-lance verse rather than attempt to find a permanent successor", wrote The New York Times. His wife, Helen, died in January 1937 after nearly 40 years of marriage. As his health worsened, Montague went to the McLean Hospital in Belmont, Massachusetts. He died there on December 16, 1941, survived by his two sons and daughter as well as seven grandchildren.^[1]

• More Truth than Poetry, George H. Doran Company, 1920, 160 pages.^[12]

• "The Purloined Cod" – a Montague poem on an event in the news