Thus matters went on for nearly a month, things going from bad to worse, majorities in Parliament getting smaller and smaller, supporters falling off one by one, and the popular ferment growing higher and higher. Petitions against the Bill poured in from all the large towns, that of the Common Council of London being the most violent of all. And the paper war raged unceasingly. “The public,” says Tindal, “was so heated with papers and pamphlets that matters rose next to a rebellion.”[89] But despite dwindling majorities and popular clamour, Walpole remained stubborn. At last, when the storm was at its worst, it was the Queen who saw the hopelessness of contending against it. In despair she asked Lord Scarborough, who had always been a personal friend of the King and herself, and who now threatened to resign his office, what was to be done. He replied: “The Bill must be dropped, or there will be mutiny in the army. I will answer for my regiment,” he added, “against the Pretender, but not against the excise.” Tears came into the Queen’s eyes. “Then,” said she, “we must drop it.”[90] The resolution was arrived at none too soon. On April 9th, after a furious debate in the House, Walpole went to St. James’s and had a conference with the King and Queen. It was then agreed to drop the Bill, though it was resolved not to make the intention known for a day or two longer. Walpole then had a private interview with the Queen, and offered to resign. It was necessary, he said, that some one should be sacrificed to appease the fury of the populace, and it was better that he should be the one. The Queen knew well what he meant, for she had so identified herself with Walpole’s policy that half the attacks of the Opposition on the Prime Minister were really veiled attacks upon her. But she refused to listen to such a suggestion and upbraided Walpole for having thought her “so mean, so cowardly, so ungrateful,” as to accept of such an offer, and she assured him that as long as she lived she would not abandon him. Walpole then made a similar proposition to the King, but George the Second replied in much the same words as the Queen had done. Both the King and Queen were greatly distressed at the turn events had taken. The Queen wept bitterly, but put a bright face on the matter in public, and held her evening drawing-room as usual. She was, however, so anxious, that she was forced to pretend a headache and the vapours, and break up the circle earlier than usual.