W. Scott.

“Edinburgh, Saturday.”

Connected with Ballantyne’s editing of the Weekly Journal there is the following curious story. The speech of George IV. at the banquet in the Parliament House, Edinburgh, 1822, was reported in the Weekly Journal; but it happens that, though that version of his Majesty’s speech appears in all the works published at the time (not newspapers), it is not his Majesty’s speech at all, but James Ballantyne’s, so far, at least, as the concluding part is concerned. A reporter belonging to the Courant happened to be sitting beside Ballantyne on the occasion, and was invited by him, when the feast was over, to accompany him to St. John Street that he might look over his notes. The reporter went with him, and wrote out the royal speech in his presence. On reading the concluding sentences of the speech, Ballantyne exclaimed: “Ay, ay! his Majesty did say so; but it is not good—we will improve it!” With that he took his pen, cancelled what was written, and substituted the sentences which have always passed current as his Majesty’s. This is a tolerable specimen of Ballantyne’s ready tact in this way.[37]

On two occasions, however, the Journal threw a shadow between the two friends, which must have been painful to Scott, whose warm regard for his confidential critic and trusted friend was no secret. The paper adopted the popular side during the trial of Queen Caroline, and afterwards espoused the cause of the Reform Bill. On neither of these points could Scott’s high Toryism permit him to be silent. He urged the right of control belonging to a proprietor, whilst Ballantyne replied by insisting on the right of free action by an editor. The first dispute was got over, but that on the Reform Bill had a painful end. “The two old and faithful friends parted in a tiff, and never again met.” So completely had the long friendship been broken that, when Sir Walter began his “Castle Dangerous,” about June 1831, he told Cadell the publisher about his new work, but said nothing to his old ally, and even thought of giving the book to another printer. This severity, however, was too much for his genial nature.

James Ballantyne, equally with his partner in the collapse of 1826, as told in this chapter, was a ruined man; everything he possessed—including his house, No. 3 Heriot Row, to which he had removed from St. John Street—being surrendered to his creditors. Fortunately for all concerned a trust-deed was drawn up, and he was chosen to manage Paul’s Work for the creditors at a salary of £400 a year. He was assisted by his younger brother, Alexander, and by John Hughes—son of the Mr. Hughes who came with him from Kelso; and these two afterwards became, with James’s son, John Alexander Ballantyne, the active partners in the business. To add to his misfortunes his wife died in 1829, leaving a large family. In 1816, when forty-five years of age, he had married Miss Hogarth, of Berwickshire, sister of George Hogarth, author of “A History of Music.” Their household was a happy one; Mrs. Ballantyne was an amiable woman of simple habits, and the children were pleasant and well-mannered. Her death affected him so much that for some time he was unfit for business, and his health was impaired. He was never the same buoyant, happy man again. Scott writes regarding this event: “I received the melancholy news that James Ballantyne has lost his wife. With his domestic habits the blow is irretrievable. What can he do, poor fellow, at the head of such a family of children! I should not be surprised if he were to give way to despair.” He was not able to appear at the funeral, and this circumstance evoked much sympathy.

In the same year we find him residing in Albany Street. Some time after he removed to Hill Street, and here he died on January 17, 1833. Shortly before this event, he had expressed a hope that he might yet be restored to sufficient health, to enable him to place on record all he felt and knew regarding the great and good Sir Walter, who had so recently gone before him. Accordingly, one of the last acts of his busy life, when lying on his deathbed, was to write and send to Lockhart the Memorandum of which the latter made such full use in his “Life of Scott,” and in return for which he thought it not inconsistent with the courtesy of a gentleman to traduce the character of the writer.

CHAPTER IX
THE AUTHOR AND THE REVISER

On the 21st September 1832 Sir Walter Scott died, and four months later James Ballantyne followed him to that bourne “where the petty politics of terrestrial powers no longer inflame men’s minds, and the sound of discord and disagreement is not heard.” The following obituary notice appeared in the Scotsman of January 19, 1833:—

“It is with feelings of sincere regret that we have to announce the death of our able and excellent contemporary and friend, Mr. James Ballantyne. His health for several months past has been very delicate, and he expired on Thursday at noon, rather unexpectedly by his friends, as he had fallen into a soft sleep in the morning, after a night of painful suffering from a vomiting of blood, with which he had of late been visited.