This second story appeared in a contemporary book of reminiscences. An Irish check-taker at the Zoological Gardens told a friend that the Queen had come once to the gardens incog.
“Why,” said his friend, “it is odd that we never heard of it.”
“Not at all, not at all,” replied Pat, “for she didn’t come like a Queen, but clane and dacent like any other body.”
During the year of 1839 the spite against Melbourne became stronger and led to absurdly wild statements; indeed, the whole agitation was the result of an acute and semi-public hysteria. His popularity with the Queen had led the Tory papers more or less to withdraw their support of the Crown, thus giving rise to annoying episodes, not only in political, but in social life. It was asserted that Victoria was surrounded with people of bad character, and though all the world, even the journals which delighted in scandal, had acclaimed the acquittal of Melbourne in the Norton case, the mud of the past was diligently scraped up and flung over him, with the evident desire that some of it would stick on the Queen. The Morning Herald remarked, “It is one of the unfortunate signs of the times that we see so many persons of known immoral character selected for office.” To this another paper added a list of a dozen people who were supposed to be unfit, about many of whom no evidence of being worse than their brothers remains. Of course, the person who heads the list is “Lord Melbourne, dinner eater and private secretary.” He is followed by the Marquis of Headford, who, many years earlier, had been convicted of adultery with his wife’s sister. The Marquis of Anglesey was a third, and I suppose it would be difficult for anyone to hold a brief for the particular line of Anglesey lords which was extinguished so dramatically a few years ago. Lord Palmerston had his place in the list, as it was whispered that Lady Cowper, Melbourne’s sister, had long been his mistress. Some time after her widowhood she married Palmerston—in December, 1839—of which event Princess Lieven says: “She wrote to me on the subject, and such a simple, natural, good letter, so full of yearning for that happiness and comfort and support which every woman needs, that I am quite convinced she is right in what she does.” Lady Cardigan, in her recent book of reminiscences, adds to this: “She was a perfect hostess, a charming woman, and an ideal helpmeet. At one of her parties her son (by Lord Cowper) was presented to a foreign ambassador, who, not understanding, looked at him and at Lord Palmerston, saying, ‘On voit bien, m’s’u, que c’est votre fils, il vous ressemble tant.’”
Upon the publication of this list of evil doers, other journals took up the cry, and indignant paragraphs, similar to the following, appeared on all sides.
“Is there a father in the Empire who would endure such a person as Lord Melbourne to be perpetually by the side of a young girl? Lord Melbourne may smile, because he had cast aside manly generosity, but we tell him that if loyalty is becoming dull, and sneers are taking the place of blessings; if, where the land would honour, it begins to censure, and where it would pay homage it passes an unwelcome jest; and if, as the result of all this, hearts grow cold, and regard only as a Ministerial puppet one who even yet is the object of love, he will have to thank his own selfishness for the blight he will have thus brought upon the Crown.”
The Glasgow Constitutional published an effusion upon the indifferent Prime Minister, and in considering these articles we must remember that if Melbourne had been a Tory he would have received praise and approbation from these very papers, while the quiescent Whig journals would probably have been ladling out abuse. “Even his private conduct is in some respects national property, and by acceptance of high office, even his personal character becomes no longer altogether his own, but is intimately associated both with the nation and its head. It is therefore a fair subject both of observation and comment, and the time has now arrived when these are imperiously called for. His present demeanour has led to most invidious remarks. It has become too notorious to escape the most unobservant eye, and whispers of suspicion have been poured into the dullest ear.”
Disloyalty and disrespect began to be shown openly for the Queen. Greville, the cynic and pessimist, constantly informs us that her people no longer cared for her. In 1838 Her Majesty was at Ascot, and was only tolerably received by a great concourse of people; there was some shouting, but not a great deal, and few hats taken off. “This mark of respect has quite gone out of use, and neither her station nor her sex secures it; we are not the nearer a revolution for this, but it is ugly. All the world went to the Royal stand, and Her Majesty was very gracious and civil, speaking to everybody.”
In March of the next year Greville shows how this antipathetic feeling had increased. “The great characteristic of the present time is indifference, nobody appears to care for anything; nobody cares for the Queen, her popularity has sunk to zero, and loyalty is a dead letter; nobody cares for the Government or for any man or set of men.... Melbourne seems to hold office for no other purpose but that of dining at Buckingham House, and he is content to rub on from day to day, letting all things take their chance. Palmerston, the most enigmatical of Ministers, who is detested by the Corps Diplomatique, abhorred in his own office, unpopular in the House of Commons, liked by nobody, abused by everybody, still reigns in his little kingdom of the Foreign Office, and is impervious to any sense of shame for the obloquy which has been cast upon him, and apparently not troubling himself about the affairs of the Government generally.”
Harriet Martineau adds her testimony to this state of affairs when she notes that “some rabid Tory gentlemen have lately grown insolent, and taken insufferable liberties with the Royal name.” This disloyalty was indeed recognised and justified to their own satisfaction by the Tories themselves; in alluding to Lord Melbourne one of their organs asserted:—