“None by sabre or by shot
Fell half so flat as Walter Scott.”
Samuel Rogers, the London poet and banker, was the victim of a woman’s unsparing wit, when Lady Blessington wrote of his exquisitely illustrated “Italy” that “the work would surely have been dished had it not been for the plates.” Tom Moore once experienced a savage dislike for a cross-eyed woman, who was said to be a poetess, and sneeringly observed that “instead of her gazing at one muse at a time, she had an eye for the whole nine at once.” Garrick was a relentless critic of Sir John Hill, who was a doctor and dramatist:
“Thou essence of dock and valerian and sage
At once the disgrace and the pest of the age,
The worst that we wish thee for all thy sad crimes
Is to take thine own physic and read thine own rhymes.”
The great lake poets, Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey, were satirized by a cynical author, who wrote:
“They came from the lakes, an appropriate quarter
For poems diluted with plenty of water.”