“Our King, too—our
Princess,—I dare not say more, sir,—
May Providence watch them with mercy and might!
While there’s one Scottish hand that can
wag a claymore, sir,
They shall ne’er want a friend to stand
up for their right.
Be damn’d he that dare not—
For my part I’ll spare not
To beauty afflicted a tribute to give;
Fill it up steadily,
Drink it off readily,
Here’s to the Princess, and long may
she live.”
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 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,