Chapter XXXVIII.

George III. Addington And Pitt. (1801-1806).

Mr. Pitt, on retiring, urged Mr. Addington to accept the control of the government. "Addington," said he, "I see nothing but ruin, if you hesitate." He at the same time urged his friends to retain their places; he even consented to present the Budget which had been prepared, and which was unanimously passed. His support of the new cabinet was assured; nevertheless, Dundas, who had followed his friend into retirement, wrote to him from Wimbledon, on the 7th of February, at the time when Mr. Addington was still endeavoring to form his ministry, that he did not know what the speaker would attempt, but he was convinced that any administration of which Addington was chief, could not fail to break, up almost as soon as formed. The devoted friends of Mr. Pitt, who had remained in office at his solicitation, saw this with regret and chagrin; and among their mortifications was the feeling that they had joined a ministry under a chief absolutely incapable of directing them. This was the general sentiment. Discouraged and sad, even before the cabinet was formed, the king remained pre-occupied and deeply agitated. He read over his coronation oath, and exclaimed: "Where is that power on earth to absolve me from the due observance of every sentence of that oath, particularly the one requiring me to maintain the Protestant reformed religion? Was not my family seated on the throne for that express purpose, and shall I be the first to suffer it to be undermined, perhaps overturned? No! I had rather beg my bread from door to door throughout Europe, than consent to any such measure. If I violate it, I am no longer legal sovereign of this country, but it falls to the House of Savoy."

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So much emotion and foreboding anxiety, shattered the tottering reason of the monarch; he had lost that faithful support, that sure guide on whom he had relied for more than seventeen years past. The conscience of the king was agitated and troubled. Upon recovering from a swoon, the old king repeated this verse from the Psalms: "Forty years long was I grieved with this generation, and said, it is a people that do err in their hearts, for they have not known my ways." He murmured afterwards, "I am better, I am better now, but I will remain true to the Church."

The malady had declared itself, and public prayers were ordered. The Prince of Wales sent for Mr. Pitt--still minister, in fact. "I will not hesitate," said Mr. Pitt, "to give to your Highness the best counsel that I am able; but with all the respect that I owe you, there is one thing that I demand of you permission to establish. It is this condition: that your Highness will interdict yourself from deliberating with those who have agitated so long in direct opposition to the government of his Majesty." The prince consented; not, however, without some show of temper.

Fox had quitted his pleasant retreat at St. Ann's Hill. He counselled the prince to accept the limited regency, that Mr. Pitt intended to propose. Already steps had been taken to form a Whig cabinet, when the rapid improvement of the king's health gave the hope of avoiding yet, for a time, that dreaded regency. On Friday, the 6th of March, George III. passed the day in the apartments of the Queen. He charged his physician to inform Mr. Pitt of it. "Tell him that I am now quite well, quite recovered from my illness; but what has he not to answer for, who is the cause of my having been ill at all."

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The sentiments of loyalty and personal attachment for the old king were profound in the reserved and proud soul of Mr. Pitt. The reproach of the sovereign deeply affected him. "Say to his Majesty," replied he to Dr. Willis, "that I have authorized you to assure him, that during his reign, whether _in_ or _out_ of office, I will never again agitate the question of Catholic Emancipation." The king drew a deep sigh. "Now my mind will be at ease," he exclaimed; and upon the queen's coming in, he repeated the message, and made the same observation upon it.

A moment after the question of conscience was decided, Mr. Pitt had some desire of yielding to the wishes of the king, and returning to power. Mr. Addington turned a deaf ear to the insinuations which were made to him upon the subject. Mr. Pitt did not insist; he had seen the king and reconciled him to his resignation. The Catholics, fully informed regarding all affairs, rendered their homage to Mr. Pitt for his fidelity to his engagements with them; they awaited their day. Pitt had just established himself in a small furnished house in Park Place. Poor, and without leisure to look after household matters, he was overwhelmed with debts. He had refused the patriotic gifts, as well as the liberalities of the king. He was now, however, compelled to accept, with great regret, the offers of his friends, and he borrowed from them the money necessary to pay his creditors. He sold his small estate at Holwood, and now lived very modestly. "Each day," writes Lord Stanhope, "when he came to the House of Commons, he took his place at the right of the speaker's chair, in the third row of benches, near one of the iron columns. {391} Many years later I saw old members point out that place, in the old house, with a sentiment of veneration." His friends remained steadily faithful to him. They either followed him into retirement, as Dundas and the young Canning--perhaps his favorite disciple, assuredly the most celebrated; or they occupied, at his request, posts of confidence. "I have taken the great seal, only upon the advice and pressing solicitation of Mr. Pitt," said Lord Eldon, "and I will only keep it as long as I shall be able to live in perfect concord with him."

Wellington, at this time the Marquis of Wellesly and Governor-General of India, wrote to the fallen minister, that he counted sufficiently upon the testimony of his own heart, not to doubt that Mr. Pitt had full confidence in his fidelity to his cause, whatever the circumstances might be; when that cause should cease to prevail in the councils of the nation, he would hasten to free himself from the disgrace of office, in order to join Mr. Pitt in the fortress which it should please him to defend, wherever it might be. His political relations with Mr. Pitt, confirmed by so many ties of friendship, and by intimate testimonies of affection and private consideration, were not only the pride, but also the joy of his life; and that he could not support the idea of seeing Mr. Pitt other than the guide of his political conduct, the guardian of all that is dear and precious in the constitution and in the country; and the first object of his esteem, respect, and personal attachment.

That noble statesman, who had inspired such emotional and faithful respect in so many eminent men, was not insensible to the evidences of esteem and attachment lavished upon him; and, upon the other hand, the failure of many expectations, the forced abandonment of many cherished projects, caused him heartfelt regrets which he did not endeavor to conceal. {392} The cabinet of Mr. Addington was being made up. Lord Grey attacked the conduct of the last government. Mr. Pitt arose, and avowed frankly the regret that he felt in quitting the power before concluding peace. He did not pretend, he said, to that indifference to the opinions of others, that certain persons affect; he was not indifferent to the situation of his country. He was not indifferent to the opinion that the public might have concerning the part, the too great part, that he had taken in it. He avowed, on the contrary, that those questions occupied him much. Events had happened which had deceived his most cherished desires, and baffled the favorite expectations of his heart. He would have desired to pursue, even to the end of the struggle, the object of these expectations and desires for the success of which he had labored with so much care and anxiety. He had not recoiled before obstacles. He had lived during the past seventeen years with very little effect, if it was necessary now to explain that he had not quitted his post because he feared the difficulties; he had always acted--good or evil; it did not pertain to him to decide which, but assuredly as a man who had not the air of fearing difficulties. He was able to say at least this: if he could efface from the record these seventeen years, and speak only of that which has taken place during the past two months, he would dare to affirm, that enough facts have been presented, in that interval, to efface the idea that he was disposed to recoil before any difficulty whatsoever, or that he desired to clear himself from any responsibility. That which had happened since that epoch, had given him the opportunity to prove, very positively, that he was ready to accept all the responsibility that the situation might be able to thrust upon him.

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Even in his retirement, Pitt never avoided a responsibility, but was always ready to accept the weight of his past acts, and of his present counsels. An expedition, that he had planned, had just entered the Baltic. Sir Hyde Parker, who commanded it, had been appointed commander-in-chief. He was old and feeble; the dangers of the expedition affected his courage; the weather was bad. "We must brace up," said Nelson, second in command, to Parker; "these are no times for nervous systems."

On the 2nd of April, 1801, a decisive naval battle was fought. Nelson attacked the batteries and the enemy's squadron before Copenhagen. The old admiral, who had not taken an active part in the battle, seeing Nelson in danger, ordered signal No. 39--the signal for discontinuing the action, to be hoisted. The signal lieutenant asked if he should repeat it. "No," replied Nelson, "acknowledge it." He then continued walking about in great emotion, and meeting Captain Foley, said: "What think you, Foley, the admiral has hung out No. 39. You know I have only one eye; I have a right to be blind sometimes." And then putting the glass to his blind eye, he exclaimed, "I really don't see the signal. Keep mine for closer battle still flying. That's the way I answer such signals. _Nail mine to the mast._"

The victory was glorious. On landing, three days later, Nelson concluded an armistice with the crown Prince, by which Denmark abandoned the alliance of armed neutrality and the confederation against Great Britain. Some weeks later the Emperor Paul was assassinated, and the coalition of the powers of the north vanished. The first care of the new Russian Emperor was to restore liberty to English sailors.

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To the joy which the success before Copenhagen aroused, was added the satisfaction inspired by the news from Egypt. Kleber was assassinated, by a fanatic; on the 14th of June, 1800, General Menou, who succeeded him, preserved the positions gained by the victory of Heliopolis. At the beginning of the year 1801, and during the ministerial crisis, a body of English troops landed in Egypt; a desperate engagement took place near Aboukir. Sir Ralph Abercromby was seriously wounded, and died some days later. The French were hemmed in near Alexandria: Cairo was invested, and General Belliard, who defended it, was obliged to surrender before the end of June. The English received reinforcements from India, and General Menou was obliged to capitulate on the 27th of August. The French obtained all the honors of war, and were permitted to withdraw, with their arms and baggage, unconditionally, and were to be transported free, to their own coasts.

At London, negotiations were in progress. Mr. Pitt took an active part in them. Lord Hawksbury, who had charge of them, was one of his most intimate friends. On the 1st of October, 1801, Mr. Pitt personally announced the signature of preliminaries to Mr. Long, but recently a member of his cabinet: "I have only a moment to say to you, that the die is cast, and that the preliminaries have been signed. The conditions, without being precisely and in all respects, as one might desire, are certainly very honorable; and taken all in all, very advantageous. I do not expect that our friends will be entirely satisfied, but the great mass of the public will be, I believe, extremely satisfied, and I regard the event as very fortunate for the government and the country."

{395}

On the 25th of March, 1802, peace was signed at Amiens, between France, England and Spain. All the colonial conquests were restored to France and Holland, with the exception of the Island of Trinidad and the Dutch possessions in Ceylon. Malta was given back to its Knight Templars, and Egypt to the Sublime Porte. The French evacuated the kingdom of Naples and the States of the Church. "It is a peace," said Sir Philip Francis, "which everybody is glad of, though nobody is proud of." The outbursts of popular enthusiasm forced the opposition to accept the peace without a contest. Fox alone was partisan enough to boldly rejoice over the brilliant successes of France. "Some persons complain that we have not attained the end of the war," said he; "assuredly we have not attained it, but this fact only pleases me better than the peace itself." In a letter to Lord Grey, who had reproached him for his imprudence, he wrote: "For the truth is, I am gone something further in hate to the English government than perhaps you and the rest of my friends are, and certainly further than can with prudence be avowed. For the triumph of the French government over the English, does, in fact, afford me a degree of pleasure which it is very difficult to disguise."

The peace which had but just been concluded was already tottering. Bonaparte's ambition for conquest, encouraged by the weariness of Europe, increased each day the pretensions of the French government. English travellers crowded to the continent, curious to visit that new France, so long closed to them. Fox was in Paris, and often saw the First Consul, for whom he had conceived the liveliest admiration. Bonaparte one day conducted his illustrious visitor to the Louvre; both stopped in front of a large globe. The General, putting his finger upon the spot occupied by England, sneeringly remarked: "See what a little place you occupy in the world."--Fox's English pride was awakened: "Yes," said he, approaching the globe and attempting to encircle it in his extended arms: "England is a small island, but with her power she girdles the world." The First Consul did not continue the conversation.

{396}

Some dissatisfaction had arisen between Pitt and Addington: the protégé had many times failed to defend his protector when violently attacked in the Houses; the counsels asked and given, were not always followed. Efforts had been made, more than once, to restore Pitt to power, but he felt that he could neither direct nor overthrow the cabinet that he had so long sustained, and for some time past he had absented himself from the House of Commons. "I am more and more persuaded," wrote he to his friend Mr. Rose, "after all that I see of affairs and of parties, that the role that I would play at present, if I were in town, would do more harm than good; it is therefore better, upon all accounts, that I remain, for the present, in the country." Pitt prolonged his stay at Walmer Castle some three months (February-May, 1803).

The general state of affairs was in fact disquieting and serious, and the execution of the treaty of Amiens seemed doubtful. New revolutionary movements agitated Holland; the Cis-alpine republic was recognized, under French influence. The mediation of Bonaparte in the affairs of Switzerland, assured to him a weighty and firm ascendancy. Piedmont was annexed to the French republic. An expedition of Col. Sebastiani into Egypt disturbed the English. The cabinets in London and in Paris exchanged complaints and recriminations regarding the delays in consummating the treaty. "We claim the treaty of Amiens, all of the treaty of Amiens, and nothing but the treaty of Amiens," said the French. England still retained Malta, under the pretext that the Knights had not yet re-established themselves there, and that Malta was for them the only guarantee of good faith on the part of the French. {397} General Bonaparte made complaints regarding this subject, to Lord Whitworth, the English Ambassador at Paris. "I would rather see you in possession of the Heights of Montmartre, than of Malta," said the First Consul. He subsequently complained of the libels which were circulated against him in England, and of the delays in the trial of Peltin, the French pamphleteer and refugee. At the same time the consul himself wounded the legitimate pride of England by the arrogant language of his message to the Corps Legislatif. "The government declares with just pride that Great Britain cannot contend alone against France."

Considerable armaments were in progress at various points on the French coast, provoking similar measures on the part of the British government. A message from the king to Parliament announced the same.

The anger of the First Consul regarding these events was natural and insolent, as well as premeditated. Lord Whitworth assisted at a court reception at the Tuilleries. Bonaparte advanced quickly towards him. "So you are determined to go to war," said he, roughly. "No," calmly replied the noble ambassador, "we are too sensible of the advantages of peace--we have already fought for fifteen years." After waiting a moment for a reply he continued, "And that is quite enough."--"But you will have to fight for fifteen years longer," replied Bonaparte; "you force me to it." He insisted upon the infractions of the treaty of which he had accused England. Turning abruptly, and intimidating, by his angry frown, the members of the diplomatic corps, already disquieted and troubled, he exclaimed: "Woe to those who do not respect treaties."

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In the presence of this menacing attitude of France, and the alarmed state of Europe, England regarded with regret the loss of Pitt, and felt an ardent desire for his return to power. "It is a strange and sad fact," said Sir Philip Francis, in Parliament, "that at such a moment as this, all the eminent men of England are excluded from the councils and from the government of the country. When the sky is clear, an ordinary amount of ability is sufficient; but for the storm which is arising we need other pilots. If the vessel founders we shall all perish with her."

Addington felt this as well as the public. He made propositions to Pitt, through Mr. Dundas, recently become Lord Melville. This gentleman at first believed that he could induce Mr. Pitt to consent to a division of the power, but he was soon convinced of his mistake. "Really," said Pitt, with ironical disdain, "I had not the curiosity to ask what I was to be." Addington was both sincere and disquieted. He went further, and proposed to renounce his functions as Prime Minister. Some of the friends of Pitt urged him to accept, but the haughtiness of Lord Grenville, which had more than once badly served the minister when in power, now interfered with the negotiations.

Pitt refused the concessions that Addington demanded, and on the other hand, Addington would not consent to the admission of Lord Grenville and Mr. Wyndham to the new cabinet. The negotiations were broken off, to the grave displeasure of the king, who had been but imperfectly and tardily informed of the situation. "It is a foolish business, from one end to the other," said George III. to Lord Pelham; "it was begun ill, conducted ill, and terminated ill."--"Both parties were in the wrong," said the Duke of York to Lord Malmesbury; "so ill managed has been the recent negotiation, as to put Mr. Pitt's return to office, though more necessary than ever, at a greater distance than ever."

[Image] "See What A Little Place You Occupy In The World."

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The renewal of hostilities became imminent. The First Consul rejected the ultimatum of England; the declaration of war could not be deferred. The English ministers had committed some faults of detail in the negotiations, but already the dangers of a proud and insatiable ambition began to dawn. The repose and independence of Europe would be compromised if Bonaparte became, without resistance, master of the military and political situation. On the 18th of May, 1803, war was officially declared. Some days later, all English subjects travelling in France were violently seized and thrown into prisons, and were retained there until peace was declared.

Mr. Pitt left Walmer Castle, and re-appeared in the House of Commons. Although sad and melancholy at the recent loss of his mother, who died on the 3rd of April, 1803, he was, nevertheless, animated by an ardent patriotism, and decided to defend the declaration of war. When he arose to speak, the whole House cried--"Mr. Pitt! Mr. Pitt!" and the applause drowned the first accents of his voice. Fox himself was loud in praise of the brilliant success of his great rival, who had just re-appeared upon the scene. "It was a speech," he told the House, "which, if Demosthenes had been present, he must have admired, and might have envied."

Pitt ardently approved of the war measures. He sustained, nevertheless, against the advice of the government, a proposition from Fox, tending to accept the mediation of Russia. "Whether we are in peace or in war," said he, "whether we desire to give force to our arms or security to our repose, whether we wish to prevent war by negotiations, or to re-establish peace after the war shall have broken out, it is the duty of the ministers of this country to profit by the good offices of the powers with whom it is to our interest to become allied."

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War became inevitable. The mediation of Russia was useless and ineffectual; no one abroad realized the energy or sagacity of the English cabinet. "If that ministry lasts, Great Britain will not last," said Count Woronzow, the Russian Ambassador in England. Parliament rejected the resolutions of censure, indirectly sustained by Mr. Pitt; nevertheless the support of the great orator was necessary to the cabinet in order to carry its financial measures, and Mr. Addington accepted without resistance the modifications demanded by Mr. Pitt.

The First Consul had eagerly renewed his former project of a descent upon England. He established at Boulogne a camp and workshops for naval service; he personally superintended the same, inspecting the works and animating the men by his inexhaustible ardor. Thousands of flat-bottomed boats were to transport to England a hundred thousand soldiers, veterans of the great revolutionary struggles.

Bonaparte exacted from Spain a monthly tribute; he disposed of the resources of the Cisalpine Republic as well as those of Holland and Belgium. "By the end of autumn," he said, "I will march upon London."

Patriotic enthusiasm in England responded to the gravity of the peril. Thiers writes that "a shudder of terror ran through all classes of English society." The alarm, however, did not arrest the zeal. Three hundred thousand volunteers enrolled themselves at once. As lord warden of the Cinque Ports, Mr. Pitt powerfully contributed to the activity of preparation. He personally took command of a brigade, which occupied the most exposed position upon the coast. His health, always tottering, was at this time seriously influenced by so much fatigue. His niece, Lady Hester Stanhope, had charge of his house; she was young and beautiful, but capricious; without family or fortune. She was received by her uncle, towards whom she always manifested a sincere devotion. After his death, she was unable to content herself in England. She established herself in the East, where she long led the life of a queen of the desert. Strange destiny, and very contrary to the regular habits of the mind and life of Mr. Pitt. With the exception of a single journey to France, he had never quitted England.

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At the opening of Parliament, on the 22nd of November, Pitt censured some of the measures adopted by the government for the national defence, but he refused to join in the systematic attack that Lord Grenville had prepared, and for which he had allied himself with Mr. Fox. "In all simple and clear questions," said he, "I have decided to sustain the government; if it should omit anything that I believed the state of the country required, or when it shall show feebleness or want of efficiency, I will boldly announce my views; but even then not in a spirit of opposition, for I will only speak after being assured that the government persists in what I disapprove, and does not consent to what I believe necessary."

The king at this time passed through another crisis of his malady. Successive checks had disturbed the ministry decidedly, by the consent of all, unequal to the task before it. Mr. Addington resolved to send in his resignation. The king accepted it with regret; he felt himself, to a certain point, master of the situation, while the power was in the hands of Mr. Addington, and he often spoke of him as: "My Chancellor of the Exchequer." He was nevertheless compelled to consult Mr. Pitt immediately, concerning the formation of a cabinet. The sovereign was convalescent. Mr. Pitt, who had for some time been in correspondence with the Chancellor, Lord Eldon, proposed at once an alliance with Fox. "My opinion is founded," wrote he, "upon the profound conviction that the critical state of our country, at this moment, joined to that of Europe in general, and of political parties abroad, render it more essential, than at any other epoch, to give to the government of his Majesty the greatest possible energy and force, by seeking to unite in his service the talents and influences accounted eminent, without exception, from parties of all names, without care for divisions or past differences." {402} The refusal of the king was peremptory. He sent for Mr. Pitt. "Your Majesty is looking much better than after your former illness," said he, upon entering.--"It is not to be wondered at," cordially replied George III. "I was then on the point of _parting_ with an old friend, and I am now about to _regain_ one."

Fox manifested neither astonishment nor anger upon learning of his exclusion by the king. "I am too old to care for office," said he to Lord Grenville Leveson; "but I have many friends who have been my followers for years. I shall counsel them to unite themselves to the government, and I hope that Mr. Pitt will be able to find places for them." Obstinately faithful to their chief, the friends of Fox refused all proposals of the minister. Lord Grenville, piqued at not having succeeded in his efforts at coalition, declared that he would take no part in the cabinet. The long friendship which had united him to Mr. Pitt, and their family ties, rendered this refusal doubly painful, and deeply wounded the minister. "I will teach that proud man," said Pitt, "that in the service of, and with the confidence of the sovereign, I can do without him;" but he added, with a sad presentiment, "even though the effort may cost me my life."

Lord Harrowby replaced Lord Grenville as Minister of Foreign Affairs. The new cabinet was strengthened by the admission of Mr. Canning and Lord Castlereagh. The opposition was stronger than ever, but the state of affairs on the continent had changed. The execution of the Duke d'Enghien had irritated and exasperated the most decided partisans of the First Consul. He had also taken from his admirers all right of regarding him as the protector of liberty in Europe. On the 16th of May, 1804, General Bonaparte was proclaimed Emperor of the French, under the title of Napoleon I.

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The secret discontent of the sovereigns of Europe lent some moral support to the resistance of England. Mr. Pitt did not, however, trust himself to this movement of public opinion. Notwithstanding the opposition of his adversaries, among whom Mr. Addington had ranged himself, he demanded an increase of the regular forces. The Emperor Napoleon was now ready to consummate his great project of landing in England. He had confided its direction to Admiral La Touche-Treville. "If we are masters of the Channel for six hours," said he, in a secret letter, "we will be masters of the world." Some days later. La Touche-Treville died, and the great plan of Napoleon, thus baffled by a hand more powerful than his own, terminated in a few insignificant combats between English and French sailors. The Emperor had departed for Paris, where he was crowned on the 2nd of December, 1804. Pope Pius VII. had come from Rome for the purpose of crowning the new Charlemagne. In the notes of Mr. Pitt, upon the means of defence and attack that England then had at her disposal, we find this passage regarding the Emperor Napoleon, inspired by patriotic bitterness, natural and pardonable, but which alters, in some measure, that equity of judgment which the great minister always preserved at home, even regarding his most violent adversaries:

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"Napoleon.--I see various and contrary qualities, all the great and little passions fatal to public tranquillity, united in the bosom of a single man, and unfortunately of a man whose personal caprice is unable to change for a single hour without influencing the destinies of Europe. I see internal indications of fear struggling against pride in a mind, ardent, bold, and tumultuous. I see all the gloomy mistrust of a consecrated usurpation which is feared, detested and obeyed; the madness and intoxication of a marvellous but unmerited success; arrogance, presumption, the obstinacy of an unlimited and idolatrous power; and that which is more to be feared in the plenitude of authority, the incessant and indefatigable activity of a culpable but unsatiated ambition."

The Emperor Napoleon judged more liberally of his implacable adversary. When, during the Hundred Days, he accorded to France a parliamentary constitution, he said to his ministers: "We do not know how Parliaments are conducted. M. Fouché believes that by bribing some old corrupt members, and by flattering a few young enthusiasts, assemblies are ruled. He is mistaken; that is intrigue, and intrigue does not lead far. In England, without absolutely neglecting these means, they have others greater and more serious. Recall Mr. Pitt, and behold to-day Lord Castlereagh! By the same means Pitt directed the House of Commons, and Lord Castlereagh controls it still to-day. Ah! if I had such instruments, I would not fear; but have I anything like it?"

The ministry lost the support of Lord Harrowby, who was ill from a fall, and obliged to resign; but a reconciliation between Pitt and Addington was brought about. The anger of certain of Pitt's friends was very great. Canning spoke of quitting his office: "It is a little hard upon us in finding fault with our making it up again," said Mr. Pitt, "when we have been friends from our childhood, and our fathers were so before us; while they say nothing to Grenville for uniting with Fox, though they have been fighting all their lives."

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Addington passed into the House of Lords with the title of Lord Sidmouth, and was sworn in as President of the Council. The Duke of Portland, who exercised that function, remained in the cabinet as minister, but without the portfolio. The new alliance, as well as the growing sentiment of public confidence, had increased the majority for the ministry. After a most animated debate between Pitt, Fox and Sheridan, upon the subject of the war recently declared by Spain, the conduct of the government was approved by a majority of one hundred and forty. Mr. Pitt, however, did not think it prudent to risk at the same time the question of the abolition of the slave trade, to which he had constantly remained faithful. Wilberforce persisted in presenting his motion. Pitt and Fox gave him their support, but a majority of their adherents abstained from voting. "I have never attempted anything during my whole parliamentary career which has cost me so much trouble," wrote Wilberforce, in his journal.

A bitter mortification awaited Mr. Pitt. As faithful in his friendships as in his political engagements, he had remained sincerely attached to Lord Melville, notwithstanding the coldness which had arisen between them during the Addington ministry. Upon returning to power, he had called his friend to the Ministry of the Marine, of which he had recently been treasurer. Naval construction had been much neglected by Lord St. Vincent. Melville pushed it forward with much zeal. The order and superintendence, however, were not equal to the activity. A paymaster appointed by Lord Melville was convicted of having appropriated public funds. Soon after his patron was accused of being implicated in these malversations. It was impossible, he said, to render an account of the sums which had passed through his hands, and of which a part had been used for secret service.

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Justly convinced of the honesty of Lord Melville, but equally disturbed by his mismanagement and the bad intentions of the opposition towards him, Pitt resolved to defend his colleague at all hazards. Among his partisans, and even in the cabinet, the dissatisfaction was profound, and opinions were much divided. When it came to a vote, the independent members awaited the decision of Mr. Wilberforce; he rose slowly, avoiding the glance of Mr. Pitt, which still entreated him. "I am forced," said he, "to vote for Mr. Whitbread's resolution of censure. I am profoundly shocked at the guilty conduct of Lord Melville, and I am unable to refuse to satisfy the moral sense of England." The house was equally divided, and the speaker cast the deciding vote.

Abbott, the speaker, much troubled, voted for the resolution. "I sat wedged close to Pitt himself, the night we were left 216 to 216," writes Lord Fitzharris, son of Lord Malmesbury, "and the speaker, Abbot, after looking as white as a sheet, and pausing for ten minutes, gave the casting vote _against_ us. Pitt immediately put on the little cocked hat that he was in the habit of wearing when dressed for the evening, and jammed it deeply over his forehead; and _I distinctly saw the tears trickling down his cheeks_. We had overheard one or two, such as Colonel Wardle (of notorious memory), say, they would see how Billy looked after it. A few young ardent followers of Pitt, with myself, locked their arms together, and formed a circle, in which he moved, I believe, unconsciously, out of the House; and neither the Colonel nor his friends could approach him."

{407}

Lord Melville had tendered his resignation as First Lord of the Admiralty. His enemies, however, were not satisfied, but demanded the erasure of his name from the list of privy councillors. The first impulse of Pitt was to haughtily refuse. Melville, as generous and disinterested toward others as he was imprudent and negligent in the administration of public affairs, as well as with his personal fortune, interposed. The majority was threatening. Melville prayed Pitt to yield to the storm. A sad allusion to the grief of his family alone betrayed the bitterness of his soul. "I will not conceal from you," wrote he, "that my opinion in this matter is not entirely free from all personal consideration. I hope that I have firmness enough to support all the trouble that they may cause me; but you know me well enough to comprehend how my domestic affections suffer from the grief and constant agitation that these debates, mingled with so much personal bitterness, naturally cause to those who are nearest to me."

When Pitt announced to the House that he had already requested the king to erase the name of Lord Melville from the list of privy councillors; he added, with great emotion, "I confess, and I am not ashamed to confess it, that whatever may be my deference to the House of Commons, and however anxious I may be to accede to their wishes, I certainly felt a deep and bitter _pang_ in being compelled to be the instrument of rendering still more severe the punishment of the noble lord."--"As he uttered the word _pang,_" says Lord Macaulay, "his lip quivered, his voice shook, he paused, and his hearers thought that he was about to burst into tears. He suppressed his emotion, however, and proceeded with his usual majestic self-possession."

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When Lord Melville appeared before the House of Lords, at that bar of the illustrious accused, that the friendship of Pitt had provided--in place of a criminal prosecution demanded by the opposition--the great minister was no longer there to sustain him by his faithful attachment and generous confidence. At the time of the acquittal of Lord Melville, Mr. Pitt was dead (1806).

In the cabinet Lord Sidmouth showed much animosity towards Melville. His enmity was increased by the nomination of his successor, Sir Charles Middleton. For a moment the dissatisfaction was calmed by the intervention of some mutual friends; but finally terminated in the withdrawal of Lord Sidmouth, and his faithful partisan Lord Buckinghamshire, from the cabinet. The king had frankly declared to Mr. Pitt that "he was much hurt by the virulence against Lord Melville, which is unbecoming the character of Englishmen, who naturally, when a man is fallen, are too noble to pursue their blows; besides," he added, "if any disunion should manifest itself, he would decidedly take the part of Mr. Pitt, having every reason to be satisfied with his conduct since the first hour of his entrance into his service."

When the old king, but lately insane, wrote these lines, he was on the point of becoming blind. At the end of the session of Parliament, July 12th, 1805, one of his eyes was already entirely useless, and the other was growing weaker and weaker. At the same time, to the profound grief of his friends and family, the health of Mr. Pitt was visibly declining; and notwithstanding the wonderful energy of his mind, it was no longer possible-- according to the striking expression of Lord Harrowby--to appear before his adversaries "as a giant in repose."

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The giant who governed France, and terrified Europe, however, seemed to have no need of repose. Crowned at Milan on the 26th of May, 1805, he had assumed there the title of King of Italy. This name grated harshly on Austrian ears. The new sovereign had annexed to France the republic of Genoa, and now began that system of aggrandizement of his own family by ceding the territory of Eliza Lucca, as an independent principality, to his eldest sister. These acts of insolent domination served the designs of Mr. Pitt, then ardently occupied in forming a new coalition against absolute and revolutionary France. Russia, Austria and Sweden, acceded to his propositions. Scarcely was the European alliance concluded against him, when Napoleon arrived at Boulogne, resolved to strike the coalition to the heart, by attacking England. He was confident of the success of his expedition. "The English do not know what is impending. Let France be mistress of the passage for twelve hours, and England has lived," said he. The plan of the emperor was to distract the attention of the British government and scatter its fleets by dispatching his own squadrons, some to the West Indies and others to Spanish ports, then suddenly to return, and with all his forces occupy the channel. Admiral Villeneuve, charged with the supreme command, was sagacious and brave; nevertheless, sad and discouraged in advance, by the weight of the responsibility. He had cleared the Straits of Gibraltar when Nelson followed him. From Spain to the Antilles, and from the Antilles to the Channel, the two squadrons followed.

Villeneuve was ordered to break the blockade at Brest, to rally the fleet of Admiral Gantheaume, and to open a passage towards England. He hesitated, doubted, and disobeyed; and returned towards Cadiz, where he expected to find the allies. Nelson, apprised of this plan, started in pursuit. When Napoleon heard of the disobedience of Villeneuve, he flew into a terrible passion. He was at Boulogne, watching the horizon at all hours, for a glimpse of the sails of his coming fleet. {410} Daru entered his cabinet one morning, and found Napoleon intensely agitated, talking to himself, and unconscious of his approach. Daru stood before him, silently awaiting orders. The emperor, on recognizing him, addressed him as if he knew all. "Do you know where Villeneuve is now?" cried he, vehemently. "He is at Cadiz,--at Cadiz!" His fury burst forth, and he declared himself betrayed. Some hours later, he conceived the plan of his German campaign. At the end of September, he was upon the Rhine, at the head of his troops, repulsing and driving back General Mack and the Austrian army at Ulm. That place was strongly fortified, and commanded the Danube; but the approaches were cut off. Communication was impossible, and Mack, abandoned by certain divisions of his army, was compelled to surrender unconditionally. On the 20th of October, 1805, he evacuated the city, and 30,000 men laid down their arms.

When this news reached London, carried by one of those vague rumors which precede all couriers, Pitt refused to believe it. He was ill and suffering, and the weight of public perils overwhelmed, for the first time, that gigantic brain. He had made new attempts to enlarge the basis of his ministry. The king was at Weymouth; his minister went there to see him, and urge him to consent to the admission of Mr. Fox into the cabinet. George III. remained inflexible. The depression, which had seized Mr. Pitt, insensibly communicated itself to his friends. "He came to me, begging me to translate a Dutch newspaper which contained in full, the capitulation of Ulm," writes Lord Malmesbury in his Diaries. "I observed, but too clearly, the effect it had on him, though he did his utmost to conceal it. This was the last time I saw him. This visit left an indelible impression on my mind, as his manner and look were not his own, and gave me, in spite of myself, a foreboding of the loss with which we were threatened."

[Image] Death of Nelson.

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The light of a great joy was once more to cross the obscure heaven of the last days of Mr. Pitt. The day following the surrender at Ulm, the 21st of October, 1805, the English and French fleets encountered each other before Trafalgar. Nelson and Collingwood commanded the two lines of English vessels. Villeneuve and Admiral Gravine had reunited thirty-three ships of the line and seven frigates. After prodigies of valor on the part of the French, the victory remained with the English. Standing upon the deck of the Victory,--his flagship, Nelson signalled to the entire fleet, those noble words, emblematic of austere Brittanic virtue:

"England Expects Every Man To Do His Duty."

Nelson wore all his decorations. "In honor I gained them, and in honor I will die with them," said he. He was shot and fatally wounded. He was carried below, where he died some three hours later. A moment before breathing his last, he murmured: "Thank God, I have done my duty."

The sublimest eulogy for such heroes is the public consternation caused by their death. The victory of Trafalgar was hailed in England with cries of joy and with tears. "Mr. Pitt observed to me," writes Lord Fitzharris, "that he had been called up at various hours in his eventful life by the arrival of news of various hues; but that, whether good or bad, he could always lay his head on his pillow, and sink into sound sleep. On this occasion, however, the great event announced, brought with it so much to weep over, as well as to rejoice at, that he could not calm his thoughts, but at length got up, though it was three o'clock in the morning."

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England overwhelmed with honors and gifts the family of her hero. She gave him the most magnificent obsequies, and placed in one of the halls of the palace at Windsor, the mast against which he had leaned and the ball which had struck him. National gratitude did not stop at the illustrious hero fallen in the very summit of his glory; it extended with the same generous ardor to the great minister who alone opposed the irresistible invader of empires and destroyer of European rights.

At the annual banquet of the city of London, on the 9th of March, 1805, after the crowd had detached the horses, in order to draw his carriage, the Lord Mayor proposed the health of Mr. Pitt, as already the savior of England, and soon to be the savior of Europe. Sir Arthur Wellesley, already celebrated by his victories in India, was present. Subsequently, under the title of the Duke of Wellington, he was placed at the head of the armed European coalition, and carried on the interrupted but henceforth victorious work of Mr. Pitt. "The minister arose," related the Duke in his old age, and waived the compliment, remarking: "England is saved by her own efforts, and the rest of Europe will be saved by her example."

The safety of Europe seemed more than ever distant and doubtful. On the 2nd of December, 1805, the battle of Austerlitz struck the last blow to the hopes of the allies in Germany. The peace of Presburg, signed by Austria, on the 26th of December, abandoned the Tyrol to the Elector of Bavaria, and Venice to the kingdom of Italy. Russia soon gave up the struggle. The third European coalition was destroyed.

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Mr. Pitt was at Bath, seriously ill with an attack of gout, but full of hope, in consequence of false news of a victory in Moravia. When he learned of the battle at Austerlitz, the bitterness of the contrast surpassed the measure of his physical strength. He called for a map, and desired to be left alone. He weighed sadly the future chances of his country. The malady slowly exhausted his enfeebled body. He was taken back to his country house at Putney, emaciated and exhausted; grown old in a few days. A map of Europe hung upon the wall: pointing his finger towards it, he said to his niece, Lady Hester Stanhope: "Roll up that map--it will not be wanted these ten years."

For some time past, the native vigor of his mind had struggled against feeble bodily health, as well as excessive fatigues; and finally patriotic grief broke down the last rampart of his declining strength. Each day he became feebler. His countenance betrayed the intensity of his mental sufferings. "He has his Austerlitz look," said Wilberforce.

In defeating the Austrians on the 2nd of December, Napoleon had conquered a more formidable enemy than the Empire. Mr. Pitt had only a few days to live. He preserved to the last moment, his affectionate interest for his friends, and a serene pleasure in their society. The Marquis of Wellesley had just returned from India; he hastened to Putney. "I found him in his usual good spirits," writes he, "and his understanding appeared to be as vigorous and clear as ever. Amongst other topics, he told me, with great kindness and feeling, that since he had seen me he had been happy to become acquainted with my brother Arthur, of whom he spoke in the warmest terms of commendation. He said,--'I never met any military officer with whom it was so satisfactory to converse. He states every difficulty before he undertakes any service; but none after he has undertaken it.' Notwithstanding Mr. Pitt's kindness and cheerfulness, I saw that the hand of death was fixed upon him. This melancholy truth was not known nor believed by either his friends or opponents. I informed Lord Grenville that the death of Mr. Pitt was near, and he received this sad intelligence with the greatest emotion and an agony of tears; and he resolved immediately to suspend all hostilities in Parliament."

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Mr. Pitt fainted away before Lord Wellesley left the room. After this he saw his friends only at rare intervals, and contrary to the advice of his physicians. The Bishop of Lincoln, his former preceptor, apprised him of his danger. "How long do you think I have to live?" asked Pitt, turning toward his friend and physician, Sir Walter Farquhar. Sir Walter answered that he was unable to say; that possibly he might yet recover. An incredulous smile passed over the face of the dying man. Then turning to the Bishop, he said, "I fear, I have, like too many other men, neglected prayer too much to allow me to hope that it can be very efficacious now; but," rising in his bed as he spoke, and clasping his hands with the utmost fervor and devotion, he added, emphatically: "I throw myself _entirely_ upon the mercy of God, through the merits of Christ!" Some hours later he breathed his last.

Pitt lived and died poor. Parliament paid his debts, which amounted to £40,000; it provided for the support of his three nieces and defrayed the expenses of his funeral. Great consternation seized the entire nation upon hearing of his death. Within three months England had lost both Nelson and Pitt, the hero of heroes, and the great pilot of her political government. In the presence of a growing peril and of an implacable enemy, by the premature death of two men, England found herself weakened and disarmed: she was not, however, to abandon all hope. Mr. Pitt had said, with great modesty, that it did not appertain to any single man to save Europe. Between the day of the death of the great minister and the definitive conclusion of peace, there were yet to be long years of resistance, as persevering and as desperate as the aggression.

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