Perhaps the surest testimony to the pain left in his soul by her loss is his silence in his Autobiography concerning her. She—and his love and his sorrow—were too sacred to be brought before the public eye. He never mentioned her, or that he had been married, even to his best friends; and in Murray's Reminiscences it is asserted that Gifford never was married.
In Lord Grosvenor's house Gifford proceeded with his translation of Juvenal, that had occupied him off and on for some years. His bitter humour agreed with the biting sarcasm of the Roman poet, and the work on which he was engaged was one of love. But, previous to its publication, he hurled his Baviad at the heads of the Della Cruscan school of poetasters, in 1794. The name signifies "of the Bran," and was adopted by a literary coterie, to signify that their poetic productions were sifted, and of the purest wheat. It was a mutual admiration society, and was composed of Robert Merry, a fanatical Republican, who had married Miss Brunton, the celebrated actress, and sister of the still more celebrated Louisa, who became Countess of Craven; another member of the society was Mrs. Piozzi; others were Mrs. Robertson and Bertie Greathead. This set inundated the newspapers, magazines, and annuals with a flood of weak and watery "poetry."
As Byron says, addressing this set:—
With you I was not: Gifford's heavy hand
Has crush'd, without remorse, your numerous band.
In 1795 appeared the Mœviad, a satire of the same class, in which, although equally personal, there was less unnecessary virulence.
Following up a line of composition so congenial to his temper and talents, he published, in 1800, his Epistle to Peter Pindar, of which some lines are given
