But whoever "stood up" for the Princess's right, certainly
Scott did not do so after his intimacy with the Prince Regent
began. He mentioned her only with severity, and in one letter at
least, written to his brother, with something much coarser than
severity;[45] but the king's similar vices did not at all
alienate him from what at [136]least had all the
appearance of a deep personal devotion to his sovereign. The
first baronet whom George IV. made on succeeding to the throne,
after his long Regency, was Scott, who not only accepted the
honour gratefully, but dwelt with extreme pride on the fact that
it was offered to him by the king himself, and was in no way due
to the prompting of any minister's advice. He wrote to Joanna
Baillie on hearing of the Regent's intention—for the offer
was made by the Regent at the end of 1818, though it was not
actually conferred till after George's accession, namely, on the
30th March, 1820,—"The Duke of Buccleuch and Scott of
Harden, who, as the heads of my clan and the sources of my
gentry, are good judges of what I ought to do, have both given me
their earnest opinion to accept of an honour directly derived
from the source of honour, and neither begged nor bought, as is
the usual fashion. Several of my ancestors bore the title in the
seventeenth century, and, were it of consequence, I have no
reason to be ashamed of the decent and respectable persons who
connect me with that period when they carried into the field,
like Madoc,
"The Crescent at whose gleam the Cambrian oft,
Cursing his perilous tenure, wound his horn,"
so that, as a gentleman, I may stand on as good a footing as
other new creations."[46] Why the honour was any greater for coming
from such a king as George, than it would have been if it had
been suggested by Lord Sidmouth, or even Lord Liverpool,—or
half as great as if Mr. Canning had proposed it, it is not easy
to conceive. George was a fair judge of literary merit, but not
one to [137]be compared for a moment with that
great orator and wit; and as to his being the fountain of honour,
there was so much dishonour of which the king was certainly the
fountain too, that I do not think it was very easy for two
fountains both springing from such a person to have flowed quite
unmingled. George justly prided himself on Sir Walter Scott's
having been the first creation of his reign, and I think the
event showed that the poet was the fountain of much more honour
for the king, than the king was for the poet.
When George came to Edinburgh in 1822, it was Sir Walter who
acted virtually as the master of the ceremonies, and to whom it
was chiefly due that the visit was so successful. It was then
that George clad his substantial person for the first time in the
Highland costume—to wit, in the Steuart Tartans—and
was so much annoyed to find himself outvied by a wealthy
alderman, Sir William Curtis, who had gone and done likewise,
and, in his equally grand Steuart Tartans, seemed a kind of
parody of the king. The day on which the king arrived, Tuesday,
14th of August, 1822, was also the day on which Scott's most
intimate friend, William Erskine, then Lord Kinnedder, died. Yet
Scott went on board the royal yacht, was most graciously received
by George, had his health drunk by the king in a bottle of
Highland whiskey, and with a proper show of devoted loyalty
entreated to be allowed to retain the glass out of which his
Majesty had just drunk his health.
The request was graciously acceded to, but let it be pleaded
on Scott's behalf, that on reaching home and finding there his
friend Crabbe the poet, he sat down on the royal gift, and
crushed it to atoms. One would hope that he was really thinking
more even of Crabbe, and much more of Erskine, than of the
royal[138] favour for which he had appeared, and
doubtless had really believed himself, so grateful. Sir Walter
retained his regard for the king, such as it was, to the last,
and even persuaded himself that George's death would be a great
political calamity for the nation. And really I cannot help
thinking that Scott believed more in the king, than he did in his
friend George Canning. Assuredly, greatly as he admired Canning,
he condemned him more and more as Canning grew more liberal, and
sometimes speaks of his veerings in that direction with positive
asperity. George, on the other hand, who believed more in number
one than in any other number, however large, became much more
conservative after he became Regent than he was before, and as he
grew more conservative Scott grew more conservative likewise,
till he came to think this particular king almost a pillar of the
Constitution.
I suppose we ought to explain this little bit of
fetish-worship in Scott much as we should the quaint practical
adhesion to duelling which he gave as an old man, who had had all
his life much more to do with the pen than the sword—that
is, as an evidence of the tendency of an improved type to recur
to that of the old wild stock on which it had been grafted. But
certainly no feudal devotion of his ancestors to their chief was
ever less justified by moral qualities than Scott's loyal
devotion to the fountain of honour as embodied in "our fat
friend." The whole relation to George was a grotesque thread in
Scott's life; and I cannot quite forgive him for the utterly
conventional severity with which he threw over his first patron,
the Queen, for sins which were certainly not grosser, if they
were not much less gross, than those of his second patron, the
husband who had set her the example which she faithfully, though
at a distance, followed.
[45] Lockhart's
Life of Scott, vi. 229-30.
[46] Lockhart's
Life of Scott, vi. 13, 14.
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