Disgrace of Lord Melville, April, 1805.
Strong as Pitt was in the country he was weak in parliament. Before the end of the year (1804) he sought at once to gratify the king and strengthen his own position in the House by becoming reconciled with Addington, who entered the ministry as President of the Council and was created Viscount Sidmouth. The coalition lasted, however, but a short time. On the 8th April (1805) Henry Dundas, now Lord Melville and first lord of the admiralty, was charged with peculation, and had to stand his trial in Westminster hall. The lord mayor claimed to have a certain number of tickets allowed him to witness the trial, on the ground that a former lord mayor had been allowed them to witness the trial of Warren Hastings. He experienced, however, some difficulty in getting them as he could produce no record of the mayor having established his claim at the former trial.[657] Although the trial resulted in Melville's acquittal, Pitt could not do otherwise than advise the removal of his old friend from the Privy Council. It was a bitter blow and one that he must have felt the more keenly when he found his old supporters, the citizens of London, animadverting in no measured terms upon his friend's conduct and congratulating the king on his having rid himself and his councils of so obnoxious a minister.[658] The unfortunate affair again caused an estrangement between Pitt and Sidmouth, which ended in the latter withdrawing from the ministry (7 July).
The battle of Trafalgar, 21 Oct., 1805.
Although misfortune continued thus to follow Pitt in the House, his foreign policy promised well. Spain it is true had thrown in her lot with France. On the other hand, Pitt had succeeded in forming a strong coalition against the Emperor on the continent, and on the 21st October, Nelson succeeded in vanquishing the French and Spanish fleets off Cape Trafalgar, although at the cost of his own life. On the 13th November, the Common Council drew up an address to the king, congratulating him upon the recent victory, whilst expressing sincere sorrow at the loss of so brave a commander.[659] A fortnight later they resolved to bestow the Freedom of the City with swords of honour upon Collingwood and others who had distinguished themselves in this action.[660]
The funeral of Nelson, 8 and 9 Jan., 1806.
Nelson's funeral afforded an opportunity for a solemn water pageant such as has seldom been seen. On Wednesday, the 8th January (1806) his remains were borne up the Thames, by barge from Greenwich to Whitehall, and thence to the Admiralty. The mayor, aldermen and city officers drove down to Greenwich after breakfast, and were there received by Lord Hood. The City's barge had been sent on, and the barges of the Drapers' Company, the Fishmongers, the Goldsmiths, the Skinners, the Merchant Taylors, the Ironmongers, the Stationers and the Apothecaries were already there. The lord mayor's barge immediately followed the royal barges and the barge containing the lords commissioners of the Admiralty. As the procession made its way up the river, with a slow hanging stroke befitting the solemnity of the occasion, minute guns were fired. The body lay at the Admiralty that night, and the next day (9 Jan.) was brought to its last resting place in St. Paul's. The whole of the military arrangements for keeping the streets of the city were left in the hands of the lord mayor, and no question as to his authority was raised, such as had been raised in 1797. On the other hand, a controversy had arisen as to the position allotted to the lord mayor in the procession, after its entrance in the city; the mayor claiming to take precedence of all subjects of the crown within his own jurisdiction in the city and liberties, whether the king was present or not. The king was not to attend on this occasion; nevertheless the mayor claimed the same precedence as if his majesty were present, on the ground that in all commissions of gaol delivery he was named before the chancellor, the judges and all other subjects whatever. Time did not allow of the question being fully enquired into at the Heralds' College, and the difficulty had to be solved by a special royal warrant to Garter King-at-arms, authorising him to allot the same place to the lord mayor that he would have enjoyed had the king himself been there to receive the City's sword. When the procession entered the city, the mayor accordingly took up his position between the carriage of the Prince of Wales and the funeral car. At the moment the remains were lowered into the crypt volleys were fired by the troops, in Moorfields, by signal given from the gallery on the top of the dome of the cathedral.[661]
Nelson's monument in the Guildhall.
The City having resolved to erect a monument to the deceased admiral, the Hon. Mrs. Damer again offered her services. Her offer, however, was not accepted, the Common Council preferring to submit the matter to public competition. A number of designs were sent in, one of which was especially recommended by a committee of so-called experts (not being themselves artists). This was, however, eventually rejected on a ballot being taken, and a design accepted, which proved to be by James Smith, an artist who had studied under Flaxman, and who had assisted Mrs. Damer. His estimate of cost was the lowest of five selected by the committee of experts.[662]
Death of Pitt, 23 Jan., 1806.
Although the victory of Trafalgar had established England's supremacy at sea and had effectually put an end to Napoleon's project of invasion, the victory he subsequently gained (2 Dec.) over the allied forces on the field of Austerlitz, completely shattered the coalition, and made him all-powerful on the continent. The shock was too much for Pitt, whose health had long been failing. Last lord mayor's day, when news of Nelson's victory and death had recently arrived, he had attended the banquet at the Guildhall, but at the cost of much personal suffering. Once more he was received with acclamation, and his coach was drawn in triumph. It was for the last time. When the lord mayor proposed his health as "the Saviour of Europe," he replied in one of the shortest, and under the circumstances perhaps one of the most effective speeches ever delivered on the occasion by a prime minister:—"I return you many thanks," he said, addressing the mayor, "for the honour you have done me; but Europe is not to be saved by any single man. England has saved herself by her exertions and will, I trust, save Europe by her example."[663] With only these two sentences—the last words spoken by him in public—Pitt sat down. A month later (7 Dec.) he set out for Bath, and there he received the fatal news. From that day his health rapidly declined. He recovered sufficiently to be removed to a house he had hired at Putney, but on the 23rd January he died.