The popular voice had been heeded, and was satisfied with the triumph. Caroline must have felt that she was really of but secondary account in the matter, that the victory was not for her, and that, righteously or unrighteously, her reputation had been irretrievably shaken into ruins.
Her great spirit, however, was as yet undaunted. The bill was no sooner withdrawn than she formally applied to Lord Liverpool to be furnished with a fitting place of residence and a suitable provision. The premier’s reply informed her Majesty that the King was by no means disposed to permit her to reside in any of the royal palaces, but that the pecuniary allowance which she had hitherto enjoyed would be continued to her until parliament should again meet for the regular despatch of business. Caroline, determined to harass her husband, next sent the following note to the prime minister:—‘The Queen requests Lord Liverpool to inform his Majesty of the Queen’s intention to present herself next Thursday in person at the King’s Drawing-room, to have the opportunity of presenting a petition to his Majesty for obtaining her rights.’
The following humiliating minute was accordingly made to guide the King:—‘If the Queen should decline delivering her petition into any hands but the King’s, the King should not be advised to permit her to come up to the Drawing-room, but should himself go down to the room where the Queen is, attended by such of his household and his ministers as may be there, and receive the petition.’
The then present parliament was about to be prorogued, and the Queen was resolved that, if possible, that body should not separate until it had granted her what, as Queen-consort, she had a right to demand. Her solicitor-general, accordingly, went down to the Commons with a royal message, which he was not permitted to deliver. The House probably never presented such a scene as that disgraceful one of the night of the 23rd of November. Mr. Denman stood with the Queen’s letter in his hand; he was perfectly in order, but the Speaker chose rather to obey that brought by the usher of the black rod, summoning the members to attend at the bar of the Lords and listen to the prorogation. The Speaker hurried out of the House, and the Queen’s message was virtually flung into the street. The public, however, knew that its chief object was to announce the Queen’s refusal of any allowance or accommodation made to her as by ministerial bounty. She still claimed the restoration of her name to the Liturgy, and a revenue becoming her recognised rank as Queen-consort.
In the meantime she publicly partook of the Holy Communion at the parish church of Hammersmith, a proceeding which many persons considered as a new protestation of her innocence. The admirers of coincidences affected to have found a remarkable one in the first lesson for the day, on this occasion (Isaiah lix.); and particularly in the verse which declares that ‘Judgment is turned away backward, and justice standeth afar off, for truth is fallen into the street, and equity cannot enter.’ This was considered as applicable to the Queen’s case, but, as its applicability presented itself in a double sense, every one construed it as he thought best.
Caroline’s next step was to proceed to St. Paul’s in solemn, public array, to return thanks for her escape from the meshes constructed for her by her enemies. Due notice was given of her Majesty’s intention and object to the Cathedral authorities, and the day appointed by her was the 29th of November. The intimation excited in those authorities neither admiration nor respect. Even the dean, the mild and virtuous Van Mildert, seemed to think that it was highly unbecoming in the Queen to be grateful for the dispensations of Heaven. The whole chapter thought, or were taught to think, that there was no greater nuisance upon earth than for this woman to come to St. Paul’s and thank God that he had not allowed her enemies to prevail over her. Those who may have any doubt as to these being the capitular sentiments are referred to the ‘Life of Lord Sidmouth,’ by Dean Pellew, who records with emphatic approval what the good, but mistaken, Van Mildert very uncharitably said and did upon the occasion.
The Corporation of London were anxious to facilitate the Queen’s object; the Chapter of St. Paul’s, under pressure from very high authority without, resolved to do all they could to impede it. They determined that nothing should be changed in the ordinary service; that the Queen’s presence or purpose should in no way be recognised; that the doors should be thrown open to the rush of Queen and canaille indiscriminately; and that the mayor and corporation should be held responsible for the safety of the Cathedral.
The chief magistrate and his council soon, however, brought the chapter to a more proper sense of seemliness. The latter body indeed would not yield on any really ecclesiastical point; but they agreed that certain arrangements might be made by the mayor and his corporate brothers for the better maintenance of the decorum, dignity, and decency becoming so solemn an occasion.
The dean was satisfied that the unwashed artisans—the unclean public generally—would make of the day a ‘saturnalia,’ a festival of obscene desecration. The public, it is to be hoped, pleasingly surprised him. It generally comports itself with propriety when it descends in countless masses into the streets to form a portion of the solemnity, partly actors, partly spectators, on great occasions. The people never behaved with more decency than they did on this day.
The circumstance was really solemn, but there were matters about it that robbed it of some of its solemnity. It was solemn to see a Queen proceeding alone, as it may be said, but through myriads of people, to acknowledge publicly the mercies of Heaven. Lady Anne Hamilton was her solitary female English attendant; but every woman who witnessed her progress either praised or pitied her that day. Her ‘procession’ was made up of very slender material, though all her court followed her in the person of Mr. Vice-Chamberlain Craven. This little company, however, was swollen by numerous additions on the way; members of parliament, among others, Sir Robert Wilson, Mr. Hume, and Mr. John Cam Hobhouse, lent some dignity by their presence. Horsemen fell into the line, vehicles of every degree took up their following, and the ‘trades’ marshalled themselves, either in joining the march or drawing up to greet the pious Queen as she passed upon her way. Among these, perhaps, the solemnity most suffered. Some very ill-favoured individuals shouted for her Majesty beneath banners which declared, ‘Thus shall it be done to the woman whom the people delight to honour.’ The braziers added a joke to the occasion by raising a flag over their position at the end of Bridge Street, on which it was recorded that ‘The Queen’s Guards are Men of Metal.’