Free Sons, Servants and Statesmen by John Van der Kiste Page B

of intense unpopularity, and it would not do for her to forfeit any more the considerable fund of public goodwill which had greeted her on her accession. Her phase of hero-worshipping ‘Lord M’ was running its course.
    Queen Victoria, it is said, was a man’s woman, and ‘the men whom she liked best were strong and imperturbable men who made her laugh, maybe with a touch of the rascal about them’. 19 The Hanoverian in her relished life and laughter, and without it she had a tendency to become morbid and introspective. Some of the men whose lives were to be bound up closely with hers recognised this. Melbourne had been quick to see it in her early days on the throne, while in later life the Ponsonby family and her youngest son-in-law, Prince Henry of Battenberg, would notice it equally.
    Lord Melbourne remained in office for two more years. Not the least of his services to the Queen was his ready, if reluctant, acceptance of the inevitable. His period of influence on her and his days of power as head of government were coming to an end. Nevertheless, she was very touched when he took communion with her on Christmas Day 1839. ‘It was a fine and solemn scene,’ she wrote afterwards. ‘I felt for one, my dearest Albert, – and wished he could be by my side, – also dear Lehzen, – but was very glad Lord Melbourne was there, the one whom I look up to as a father, and I was glad he took it [communion] with me.’ 20
    While he was ‘much affected’ at her wedding to Prince Albert in February 1840, Melbourne was not so selfishly devoted to her as not to care deeply about her future happiness. Whatever initial reservations he may have had about the young man as his adored sovereign’s husband and advisor were quickly dispelled, for he soon learnt to appreciate and respect Albert’s conscientious approach and intelligence. The Prince, he foresaw, would soon acquire ‘boundless influence’. He discussed political matters with Albert and urged the initially hesitant Queen to take her husband fully into her confidence. Albert had equal respect for Melbourne, aware that the outwardly imperturbable manner concealed the shrewdest of minds.
    In May 1841 Melbourne’s government was defeated by one vote, and parliament was dissolved at the end of June. The Queen was certain that the administration ‘would gain by a dissolution’, but when elections were held the Tories won with a clear majority. George Anson, Prince Albert’s private secretary and treasurer, had dreaded the possibility of another bedchamber crisis, and on 12 June he expressed his fears to Melbourne. The latter was strangely unhelpful, advising him to ‘let it alone until the time for action arrives’. Anson pointed out that the uncertainty kept the Queen’s mind ‘in perpetual agitation, when it ought to be perfectly calm, & that under existing circumstances this excitement might be attended by serious consequences’. The Tories were equally anxious, and Lord Ashley warned Anson that any repetition of the events of 1839 would ‘destroy the position of the Queen, & it would be impossible to foresee the effect of it upon the country’. Peel, he said, had been deeply hurt by her conduct two years earlier and would probably be unable ‘to place entire confidence in the disposition of the Queen before him . . . if it had been proposed to him to take office 6 months after that intrigue he was certain that nothing wd. have induced him.’ 21
    Melbourne left office for what he knew was the last time. His last advice to the Queen was that she should put her trust in her husband. In another memorandum from Anson, the outgoing Prime Minister recommended that his successor, Sir Robert Peel, ‘should write fully to Her Majesty, and elementarily , as Her Majesty always liked to have full knowledge upon everything which was going on. He would advise the Queen to be cautious in giving a verbal decision, that she should not allow herself to be driven into a