20 Seriously Petty Historical Figures

Napoleon had the censors search for even the slightest insult, and his letters reveal an obsession with how he was perceived. When the writer Madame de Staël mocked his height, he had her kidnapped and sent into exile—twice. Furthermore, her books were banned throughout France out of sheer malice. 

Louis XI turned resentment into governance. He wore a shabby hat to insult the ostentatious nobles and sent sarcastic letters to his rivals before imprisoning them. Nicknamed “the Spider King,” he wove political traps to exact petty revenge, going so far as to revoke land titles in response to perceived slights. No barb went unanswered.

Catherine had statues of her lover, Orlov, erected, then had them destroyed when they parted ways. She thwarted his plans for a noble marriage and filled her memoirs with gossip. Her lovers were also documented in private notes, providing the court with endless scandals to whisper about.

During Watergate, Nixon completely barred Washington Post reporters from the White House. His infamous “enemies list” targeted critics ranging from political opponents to late-night comedians, and he personally kept track of the jokes made about him by watching the shows himself.

Philippe did not like the pope meddling in French fiscal affairs. So he created a rival pope, attempted to kidnap the real pope, and spread false accusations against his enemies. When the Knights Templar refused to lend him money, he accused them of heresy and had them tortured.

For Dalí, mocking his peers was an art form. He sold blank, signed canvases to annoy his fellow Surrealists, insulted Picasso in public, and showed up at a conference wearing a diving suit. Every move he made kept his name in the headlines and stirred up controversy.

When Dickens separated from his wife, he had her removed from family portraits and blamed her for his pregnancies and illnesses in public letters. He then spread rumors about her mental health and even openly flaunted a younger mistress. Dickens ultimately made sure that his personal grudge was as public as possible.

Richelieu punished personal insults by wielding the power of the state. He exiled nobles for gossip at court and filled the salons with spies. When Queen Anne’s friend displeased him, she was banished on several occasions. He was not content merely to crush his enemies; he silenced those who annoyed him.

After falling out with his friends, Picasso refused to return the paintings they had given him and even sold them against their will. Later, he erased people from history by renaming their works of art and frequently quarreled with art dealers.

Inheriting a fortune meant pretending to convert to Catholicism, and Voltaire played along—until the money was his. He then mocked the family in his writings and told his friends that he “would do it again for less.” To top it all off, he disinherited his entire family in his will.

Demolishing his rivals’ statues was not enough for Tiberius: he had them thrown into the Tiber. He even banned praise for his enemies, went into exile on a luxurious island, and staged spectacular departures while secretly plotting the downfall of all those who opposed him.

Known for his sharp wit, Pope often concealed brutal insults behind his elegant and refined verses. After a trivial quarrel during a card game, he wrote an offensive poem to ridicule all members of high society. He then went even further by challenging someone to a duel over something as trivial as a hairstyle.

For Wilde, theater also served as a means of revenge. He wrote A Woman of No Importance for the sole purpose of insulting his ex-boyfriend’s wife, only to face criticism from reviewers who did not applaud the play. Under a pseudonym, he even reviewed his own work, praising it in an extravagant style.

In his fresco of the Last Judgment, he depicted his detractors as demons being tortured in hell. When the pope’s master of ceremonies complained about the nudity, Michelangelo painted him as Minos, the judge of the underworld, with donkey ears. (Petty, but hilarious!)

With Henry, a grudge could throw the royal schedule into disarray. He would exile or execute wives he didn’t like. He would also ban dancing at court whenever the mood struck him. His courtiers never knew which pastime or which person would be the next victim. 

A huge wheel of cheese was Jackson’s weapon of choice against the political elite. He let it rot inside the White House so that his aristocratic guests would be forced to endure the foul odor. Cleverly, he also used his parrots to insult visitors.

Hoover used secret files to blackmail his enemies and even sabotaged Martin Luther King’s nomination for the Nobel Peace Prize. Furthermore, he fabricated letters of commendation from the FBI about himself. Over the years, he ruined many careers over minor personal offenses.

Petty squabbles were Hemingway’s favorite pastime. He publicly boasted about stealing his rivals’ partners and disparaged F. Scott Fitzgerald in his memoirs. On other occasions, he struck critics in the middle of an interview and used his Nobel Prize acceptance speech to settle scores with publishers.

Beard taxes became the means by which Pierre forced the nobles to adopt modern fashion. He personally shaved those who resisted, forced them to show off their clean-shaven chins at parties, and kept jars filled with “trophies” as proof. Sometimes he even went so far as to spy on the courtiers in disguise.

He shaped the legacy of the Renaissance through his collection of artists’ biographies, favoring Florentines such as Michelangelo while downplaying the importance of his rivals, particularly the Venetians. His vivid accounts of the artists turned reputation into a form of revenge. Many stories were exaggerated, designed to elevate his allies and bury his enemies. Art history owes him a great deal, but his pettiness has colored the picture.