Lord Melbourne had long foreseen the ruin of the Ministry, and probably he secretly rejoiced at his approaching release from a task which had manifestly become hopeless. Before Baron Stockmar again left England, in the early part of 1841, the Premier told that distinguished German that his Cabinet was exposed to all sorts of dangers, and that he saw no guarantee for its stability. He conversed much with Prince Albert, and was most anxious that the Queen should communicate to his Royal Highness everything connected with public affairs. Writing to his father, in April, 1841, the Prince observes:—“I study the politics of the day with great industry. I speak quite openly with the Ministers on all subjects, so as to gain information, and I endeavour quietly to be of as much use to Victoria in her position as I can.” He saw that Sir Robert Peel would soon be again called upon to form a Ministry; he knew that an unpleasant incident had occurred on a similar occasion in 1839; and he felt that the recurrence of any such catastrophe should by all means be avoided. There must be no second collision between the sovereign and a leading statesman on a matter so unimportant from one point of view, yet so important from another, as the position of a few Bedchamber women. Prince Albert therefore brought the subject under the notice of Lord Melbourne, and remarked that he was naturally in a state of some uneasiness at the probable course of events; that his sole anxiety was that the Queen should act constitutionally, and with more general applause than on the previous occasion; that it was his duty, and Lord Melbourne’s also, to prepare her Majesty for possible eventualities; and that an agreement ought to be arrived at, as to what she should do under the circumstances.12 The Prime Minister assented to these views, and it was settled that, should there be a change of Ministry, the Queen would arrange that those of her ladies should retire of their own accord whose removal might be requested by the in-coming Cabinet, on account of their relationship to leaders of the Whig party. It was the view of Prince Albert, and also of Lord Melbourne, that Sir Robert Peel should be previously consulted. Negotiations were accordingly opened with that statesman, through the medium of the Prince’s secretary, Mr. Anson; and when Sir Robert accepted office soon afterwards, the Duchesses of Bedford and Sutherland, and Lady Normanby, relinquished their posts.13
The time was one of great trial for the Queen; but she had now always at her side an adviser of much discrimination, of excellent sense, and of the highest honour. “Albert,” wrote her Majesty, about this period, to her uncle, the King of the Belgians, “is indeed a great comfort to me. He takes the greatest, possible interest in what goes on, feeling with me and for me, and yet abstaining
HATFIELD HOUSE.
as he ought, from biassing me either way, though we talk much on the subject, and his judgment is, as you say, good and calm.” The Prince, in his turn, had an invaluable guide in Baron Stockmar, who frequently corresponded with him. In a letter written from Coburg on the 18th of May, 1841, the Baron says:—“If things come to a change of Ministry, then the great axiom, irrefragably one and the same for all Ministries, is this, namely, the Crown supports frankly, honourably, and with all its might, the Ministry of the time, whatever it be, so long as it commands a majority, and governs with integrity for the welfare and advancement of the country. A king who, as a Constitutional king, either cannot or will not carry this maxim into practice, deliberately descends from the lofty pedestal on which the Constitution has placed him to the lower one of a mere party chief. Be you, therefore, the Constitutional genius of the Queen. Do not content yourself with merely whispering this maxim in her ear when circumstances serve, but strive also to carry it out into practice, at the right time, and by the worthiest means.”
THE QUEEN AT THE LAUNCH OF THE “TRAFALGAR.”
While awaiting the political crisis which every one saw could not be long in coming, the Queen and Prince Albert made several interesting excursions to various places in the country, such as Nuneham, Oxford, Woburn Abbey, Panshanger, Brocket Hall (the seat of Lord Melbourne), and Hatfield. On these occasions, the Royal party were very well received by the country people, though the Queen, in her “Journal,” rather complains of the crowding and pressing, and of the dust raised by the mounted farmers who, in their well-meant but somewhat inconvenient loyalty, furnished supplementary escorts. Englishmen, of course, are not to expect the privileges of a more favoured race, and southern roads are naturally more dusty than northern moorlands. But her Majesty was not much offended, and speaks of the people as “good” and “loyal,” though, it would seem, a little troublesome. Among the places visited was the seat of the Duke of Devonshire at Chiswick; and on the 21st of June the Queen and Prince Albert went to see the Trafalgar launched at Woolwich. At the request of her Majesty, the vessel was named by Lady Bridport, a niece of Lord Nelson, and the wine used was a portion of that taken from the great Admiral’s flag-ship, Victory, after the battle of Trafalgar. Out of the five hundred people on board at the time of the launch, no fewer than one hundred had taken part in the ever-memorable action, and the scene altogether was of the most impressive kind. In a letter to his father, written on the following day, Prince Albert said that this was the most imposing sight he could remember. There were about five hundred thousand people present, the Thames being covered for miles with ships, steamers, barges, and boats.
The Melbourne Ministry, while struggling for existence to the very last, had contrived to offend both parties in the State by its half-heartedness. The lowering of the duties on cereals was to some extent a concession to the Free Trade party; but it did not go far enough to satisfy them, while at the same time it alarmed the agricultural interest. On the whole, it appeared as if the Government were gradually abandoning the Protective system, although, no farther back than 1839, Lord Melbourne had declared in the House of Lords that “the repeal of the Corn Laws would be the most insane proposition that ever entered the human head.” Even Lord John Russell, who was much more a reformer than his chief, had very recently spoken of Free Trade in anything but respectful terms. Indeed, the Ministerial Whigs generally were disinclined to adopt the opinions of Mr. Villiers and Mr. Cobden; yet, in the early summer of 1841, they showed a remarkable tendency to advance in that direction. In the debate on the Sugar Duties, Lord Palmerston, referring to what were now considered the necessary measures for relieving British trade from the encumbrances which had hampered it, observed, in a spirit of political prophecy:—“I will venture to predict that, although our opponents may resist those measures to-night, for the sake of obtaining a majority in the division, yet, if they should come into office, those are the measures which a just regard for the finances and commerce of the country will compel them to propose.” All this was a movement in the right direction; yet people would not believe in its sincerity. They said it was only a trick to obtain votes, and to stave off a little while longer the inevitable downfall. Probably they were right. At any rate, their views prevailed at the General Election.
On