W. H. F.
P.S.—The King spoke kindly of you, and about Wootton.
The Queen immediately tried to make the most of her "triumph," as it was called, and wrote to Lord Liverpool, demanding a palace. This was refused, though a handsome allowance was offered. She then agitated for a restoration of her name to the Liturgy, which was also firmly opposed.
The result of the withdrawal of the Bill was remarkable. A delirium of triumph appeared to have seized the entire country, and more particularly the populations of the large cities; but singularly true was Lord Castlereagh's prophecy, that in six months the King would be the most popular person in his dominions. The madness of the multitude necessarily brought about a reaction. "When the struggle was over and the victory gained," observes an historian of these events, "the King and his Ministers defeated, and the Queen secured in her rank and fortune, they began to reflect on what they had done, and the qualities of the exalted personage of whom they had proved themselves such doughty champions. They called to mind the evidence in the case, which they had little considered while the contest lasted; and they observed, not without secret misgivings, the effect it produced on the different classes of society. They saw that the experienced hesitated at it, the serious shunned it, the licentious gloated over it. The reaction, so usual in such cases when the struggle is over, ensued; and, satisfied with having won the victory, they began to regret that it had not been gained in a less questionable cause."[52] ]
The last entry in Plumer Ward's "Diary" of this date is very characteristic of the Duke of Wellington:—"Met the Duke just come to town. He took me under the arm, and walked me to Lord Bathurst's. He was in excellent humour, and asked what news—having, as he said, been a country gentleman for two days. I said, I thought the heat a little, and but a little, subsiding. He observed, he thought so too; and that it would more after to-morrow—the prorogation. He was more convinced than ever of the wisdom of that measure, and of withdrawing the Bill."[53] ]
As may be exemplified by a familiar hygrometer, this change of atmosphere sent the lady out of notice, and brought the gentleman again before the public gaze.
The Government have been much censured for their proceedings in the Queen's case, but it was quite an exceptional one; and their treatment of it, however open to objections it may be, is equally open to justification. Their task, from the first, was an up-hill one, which nothing but their devotion to their master's service made them continue; but when a thousand unmistakeable signs foretold a rebellion if they persevered, they had no alternative but to put an end to the thing with all convenient despatch. The value of this movement soon became apparent. It possessed advantages which a victory could not have secured.
Notwithstanding the opinions expressed by the heads of the great Whig families in favour of the Queen, they could scarcely have desired her to be at the head of the female aristocracy of the kingdom—their example, guardian, and liege mistress. The stout lady in the magnificent hat and feathers was very well as a source of Ministerial embarrassment; but much as some of them pretended to decry the evidence against her that was elicited during her trial, they took especial care not to allow her anything resembling an intimacy with their wives and daughters.
Plumer Ward describes in his "Diary" one of the Opposition peers who had been very active for the Queen during the discussion of the Bill, though acknowledging that he entertained no doubt of her guilt. "I suppose," observed Ward, "you mean to present Lady —— at Brandenburg House? He, with a sudden change to solemnity, and with great emphasis, exclaimed, 'Never!'"[54] ]
The Queen soon began to discover that her victory was a sensible defeat. "She is striving to keep the flame alive," we are told, "and blow it to fury."[55] ] But the mob, having nothing to clamour about, nothing to break windows for, ceased to shout and to throw stones. The better educated became influenced quite as strongly from a different source. The cause of the Queen had enjoyed every assistance which a considerable portion of the press could afford it; and Thomas Moore and George Cruikshank manufactured the most stinging satires and the most ludicrous caricatures upon every person of distinction who opposed her; but a writer had entered the field on the other side, whose caustic humour told more damagingly on the popular idol and her chief supporters than the pen of the poet or the pencil of the artist; and Theodore Hook, in the columns of the John Bull, made the respectable portion of the Queenites heartily ashamed of their cause.