William McGonagall is universally known as the Worst. Poet. Ever. Although he was confident in his own ability, he is one of the few poets to have been banned from a local public performance due to the shittiness of his poetry.
In the time before tv, internet and radio, William was of a generation where important information would be conveyed through town criers, poets and actors. William decided to be an actor first.
As I’m sure you’re aware, one of the plot points in Shakespeare’s Scottish play is that Macbeth dies. I mean, it’s part of the plot. Unfortunately, believing the actor playing Macduff was outperforming his performance of Macbeth, William was so outraged he refused to die.
It looked like acting wasn’t his strong point, so he turned his hand to poetry. In order to succeed in the arts in this period, it was necessary to have a patron - someone that would pay for your expenses in return for piggybacking on your fame - and where better a place to start than the Queen of England?
Unfortunately, a royal representative’s ‘thanks, but no thanks’ letter spurred William into believing that he was truly gifted. He then walked 60 miles through a violent thunderstorm to Balmoral, a royal residence where the Queen was staying, and appeared at the door, soaking wet, introducing himself as ‘The Queen’s Poet’. The Queen already had a poet and he was told in no uncertain terms to sod off.
The next few years were spent pestering local pub owners about the dangers of drink via his verse, on one occasion being bombarded by peas for being a nuisance.
When 1883 rolled around, William decided to write a poem for the opening of the University near his home, which opened as follows:
Good people of Dundee, your voices raise,
And to Miss Baxter give great praise;
Rejoice and sing and dance with glee,
Because she has founded a college in Bonnie Dundee
Eventually, money troubles led William to performing in a local circus for 15 shillings per evening. He would stand on a small stage, recite his poetry and be pelted with rotten fish and vegetables. The events became so out of control that the city magistrates banned William’s public performances. Upset, William wrote a very angry poem, ‘Lines in Protest to the Dundee Magistrates’
Fellow citizens of Bonnie Dundee
Are ye aware how the magistrates have treated me?
Nay, do not stare or make a fuss
When I tell ye they have boycotted me from appearing in Royal Circus,
Which in my opinion is a great shame,
And a dishonour to the city’s name
Sadly, it never really got through to William how god awful his poetry was, or how much people took the piss of him. Around 1890 he received a message which said it was from ‘King Thibaw Min of Burma’, knighting him for his contributions to poetry. William just wasn’t astute enough to realise this was a joke, and for the rest of his life referred to himself as ‘Sir William Topaz McGonagall, Knight of the White Elephant, Burmah’
William died in 1902, penniless and alone, and is buried in an unmarked grave in Edinburgh. I enclose below some lines from his poem ‘The Famous Tay Whale’, about a whale that swam too close to the shore and got killed by local fishermen:
Then the water did descend on the men in the boats,
Which wet their trousers and also their coats;
But it only made them the more determined to catch the whale,
But the whale shook at them his tail.
Then the whale began to puff and to blow,
While the men and the boats after him did go,
Armed well with harpoons for the fray,
Which they fired at him without dismay.
And they laughed and grinned just like wild baboons,
While they fired at him their sharp harpoons:
But when struck with,the harpoons he dived below,
Which filled his pursuers’ hearts with woe.
William McGonagall, shitty poet, 1825-1902
