CHAPTER LVIII.

WARREN HASTINGS.

[Sidenote: 1732--The birth of Warren Hastings]

In the days when Clive was first winning his way to fame in India there

was another young Englishman serving John Company, whose ability

attracted the notice and gained the esteem of the conqueror of Dupleix.

It is one of the privileges of genius to discern the genius of others.

But even Clive, when he noted a young volunteer at Falta, who seemed

destined for better things than the handling of a musket, cannot have

dreamed that he was giving an opportunity to a man whose name was to

take as high a rank in the history of India as his own, whose deeds

were to be no less fiercely battled over, whose part in the creation of

a great Indian Empire was to be as illustrious. All that India had

been to Clive--a refuge, a battleground, a theatre of great deeds, and

unfortunately also of great offences, the cause of almost unbearable

triumph and almost intolerable humiliation, all that in as great a

degree India was to be to Warren Hastings.

Warren Hastings was born in the December of 1732, in Churchill,

Oxfordshire, near Daylesford in Worcestershire. His family had been a

good as it was an old family. But it had come down in the world. It

had grown poorer and poorer as the generations rolled on, and that

manor of Daylesford which had been in the family in the days of the

second Henry had passed in the year of Sheriffmuir into the hands of a

Gloucester merchant. When Warren Hastings was born, the fortunes of

the house had come to a very low ebb indeed. Pynaston Hastings, Warren

Hastings's father, was, perhaps, as imbecile a man as ever yet was the

means of bringing an illustrious son into the world. He seems to have

been weak, foolish, shiftless, as {246} worthless as a man well could

be who was not actually a criminal. He had married very young, before

he was sixteen; his wife had died shortly after giving birth to Warren

Hastings. Pynaston married again, entered the Church, when he was old

enough to take holy orders, and drifted away into the West Indies into

outer darkness and oblivion, leaving children entirely dependent upon

the charity of relatives. That charity did not fail, though at first

it could be but meagrely extended. Warren Hastings's grandfather was

desperately poor. All he could do for his deserted grandchild was to

place him at the charity school of the village. There, habited almost

like a beggar, taught as a beggar, the companion of clowns and

playfellow of rustics, the future peer of kings and ruler of rajahs,

the coming pro-consul who was yet to make the state of England as

imperial as the state of Rome, received his earliest lessons in the

facts of life, and dreamed his earliest dreams. His were strange

dreams. In sleep, says a Persian poet with whom young Hastings was

afterwards doubtless acquainted, the beggar and the king are equal. If

Warren Hastings slept as a beggar, he certainly dreamed as a king. We

know, on his own statement, that when he was but a child of seven he

cherished that wild ambition which was to lead him through so many

glories and so many crimes. We are familiar with the picture of the

boy leaning over the stream on that summer day, and looking at the old

dwelling of his race, and swearing to himself his oath of Hannibal that

some day he would, if the stars were propitious, win back his

inheritance.

[Sidenote: 1750--Warren Hastings's early life]

Somewhere about a year after this oath of Hannibal the fortunes of the

lad took a turn for the better. An uncle, Howard Hastings, who had a

place in the Customs, was willing to give a helping hand to the son of

his graceless brother. He brought Warren Hastings to London. In

London Warren Hastings was first sent to school at Newington, where his

mind was better nourished than his body. In after life he used to

declare that his meagre proportions and stunted form were due to the

hard living of his Newington days. But the Newington days came to

{247} an end. When he was some twelve years of age, his uncle sent him

to Westminster School, where his name is still inscribed in letters of

gold, and where his memory adds its lustre to the historic associations

of a place that is richly blessed with historic associations. Warren

Hastings distinguished himself in the great school of Westminster, as

he had already distinguished himself in the little village school of

Daylesford. With his oath of Hannibal burning in his mind, he seems to

have determined to seek success in all that he attempted, and to gain

it by his indomitable energy and will. If he was brilliant as a

scholar, he was not, therefore, backward in those other arts which

school-boys prize beyond scholarship. He was as famous on the river

for his swimming and his boating as he was famous in the classroom for

his application and his ability. His masters predicted for him a

brilliant University career, and it is possible that Hastings may have

seen Daylesford Manor awaiting him at the end of such a career, and

have welcomed the prospect. But the life of Warren Hastings was not

fated to pass in the cloistered greenness of a university or in the

still air of delightful studies. Howard Hastings died and left his

nephew to the care of a connection, a Mr. Chiswick, who happened to be

a member of the East India Company. Perhaps Mr. Chiswick resented the

obligation thus laid upon him; perhaps, as a member of the East India

Company, he honestly believed that to enter its service was the

proudest privilege that a young man could enjoy. Whatever were his

reasons, he resolutely refused to sanction his charge's career at the

university, insisted upon his being placed for a season at a commercial

school to learn arithmetic and book-keeping, and then shipped him off

out of hand to Bengal as an addition to the ranks of the Calcutta

clerks. Thus it came to pass that Warren Hastings, like Clive, was

sent to India by persons in England who were anxious to get rid of a

troublesome charge. There were a good many persons in the years to

come who were very ready to curse the obstinacy of the elder Clive and

the asperity of Mr. Chiswick for sending two such terrible adventurers

forth to {248} the great battle-field of India. The history of our

Indian Empire would certainly have been a very different story if only

Mr. Clive had been more attached to his ne'er-do-well son, and if only

Mr. Chiswick had been better affected towards his industrious charge.

In the January of 1750 Warren Hastings said farewell to his dreams of a

scholar's garland in England and sailed for India. In the October of

the same year he landed in Bengal and altered the history of the world.

Gentlemen adventurers who went out to India in the last century in the

service of John Company seldom knew much, or indeed cared much, about

the condition of the country which they were invading. They dreamed

mostly of large fortunes, fortunes to be swiftly made and then brought

home and expended splendidly to the amazement of less fortunate

stay-at-homes. For the past history of India they did not care a penny

piece. What to them were the mythical deeds of Rama and of Krishna;

what to them the marches of Semiramis and Sesostris, or the conquests

of Alexander, or the fate and fortunes of the ancient kingdoms of the

Deccan and Hindostan? They cared nothing for the spread of Mahommedan

influence and authority, the glories of the Mogul Empire, the fate of

Tamerlane, the fame of Aurungzebe. For them the history of India began

with the merchant adventurers of 1659 and the East India Company of

1600, with the grant of Bombay to England as part of the dower which

the Princess of Portugal brought to Charles the Second. Nor were they

moved by imperial ambitions. It did not enter into their heads to

conceive or to desire the addition of a vast Indian empire to the

appanages of the English crown. They cared little for the conflicting

creeds of India, for Brahmanism and Buddhism and Jainism and Hinduism

and the sects of Islam. They knew little of the differing tongues

talked over that vast continent, more than five hundred in number, from

the Hindi of one hundred million men to the most restricted dialects of

the mountains of Assam and Nepaul. India for them meant the little

space of earth where the English had a trading interest, {249} and the

regions of the shadowy potentates beyond from whom in some way or other

money might be got.

[Sidenote: 1750--Suraj ud Dowlah]

When Warren Hastings landed in India the relations of England and of

Englishmen to India were just upon the turn. The star of Clive's

fortunes was mounting towards its zenith; the fiery planet of Dupleix

had begun to fail and pale and fade. The policy which Dupleix had

adopted, that policy of intrigue with the native princes of India, the

English East India Company had been forced in self-defence and very

reluctantly to adopt. Having adopted it, the men of the English East

India Company proved themselves to be better players at the game than

Dupleix. Warren Hastings, driving his pen at a desk in Calcutta, or

looking after silk-spinning in the factory of Kazim Bazar near

Murshidabad on the Ganges, was able to watch almost from its beginning

the great political drama in which he was destined in his time to play

so great a part, and which was to end in giving England a great Asiatic

empire. When Suraj ud Dowlah declared war against the English his

first move was to fall upon the Kazim Bazar settlement. Warren

Hastings and the other English residents were made prisoners and sent

to Murshidabad, where, through the intervention of the Dutch Company,

they were humanely treated. Then came the madman's march on Calcutta,

the horror of the Black Hole, and the flight of the Governor and the

Company's servants to the little fort at Falta in the Hughli below

Calcutta. Communications were entered upon between Governor Drake in

Falta Island and Hastings at Murshidabad with a view to coming to terms

with Suraj ud Dowlah. Warren Hastings was already, however, developing

that genius for Oriental diplomacy which afterwards so characterized

his career. He was made aware of the treason that was hatching against

Suraj ud Dowlah in his own court and among his own friends, and he was

quite ready to play his part and find his account in that treason.

Treason is a risky game for a political prisoner at a court like that

of Suraj ud Dowlah. Warren Hastings was quick-witted enough to see

that the sooner he got away from that {250} court the better for

himself. He succeeded accordingly in making his escape and joining the

fugitives at Falta. Here two things of moment happened to him. He met

the woman who was to be his first wife, and he met the great man who

was to give him his first chance for fame. Among the refugees from

Calcutta was the widow of a Captain Campbell. Warren Hastings fell in

love with her, and afterwards in an hour of greater security he married

her. He seem to have been very fond of her, to have been very happy

with her, but she died very soon after the marriage, and the two

children she bore him both died young, and so that episode came to an

end. The more momentous meeting was with Clive. When the Madras

expedition appeared in the Hughli, Warren Hastings volunteered to serve

in the ranks, shouldered his gun, and took his part in the fighting

round Calcutta. But Clive's keen eyes discerned stuff for better

things than the sieging of Indian forts in the young volunteer. When

Suraj ud Dowlah's defeat ended in Suraj ud Dowlah's death, and the

traitorous Mir Jaffier sat on the throne in his stead, Warren Hastings

was sent to the court of the new prince at Murshidabad, originally as

second to the Company's representative, Mr. Scratton, and afterwards as

sole representative.

[Sidenote: 1762--Clive and the East India Company]

At Murshidabad Warren Hastings had every opportunity to justify Clive's

acumen in singling him out for distinction. The post he held was one

of exceptional difficulty and delicacy. Mir Jaffier was not altogether

an agreeable person to get on with. The English in India were taking

their first lessons in Oriental intrigue. They were learning that if

it was not particularly difficult to upset one tyrant and place another

on his throne, it was not always easy to keep that other on the throne,

or at all safe to rely upon his loyalty to the men who had brought

about his exaltation. Mir Jaffier was surrounded by enemies. His

court, like every other Oriental court, was honeycombed with intrigues

against him. His English patrons, or rather his English masters,

proved to have an itching palm. They were always wanting money, and

Mir Jaffier {251} had not always got enough money in his treasury to

content their desires. So he began to intrigue against the English

with the Dutch, and the English found him out and promptly knocked him

off his throne, and set up a new puppet in his stead. By this time

Clive had returned to England, and the direction of the destinies of

the East India Company was in the hands of the Governor, Mr.

Vansittart, a well-meaning man whose views were not the views of Clive.

Clive objected very much to the course which the East India Company

were pursuing. He wrote a letter to the London Board rebuking in no

measured language the defects and evils of the Indian Administration.

Once again Clive was the cause of Warren Hastings's advancement. The

London Board ordered the instant dismissal of all the officials who had

signed Clive's letter and Warren Hastings was appointed to fill one of

the vacant places.

The five years that elapsed between the departure of Clive for England

in 1760 and his return to India in 1765 are not years that reflect much

credit upon the East India Company's administration. They had suddenly

found themselves lifted from a condition of dependency and, at one

moment, of despair to a position of unhoped-for authority and

influence. New to such power, dazzled by such influence, they abused

the one and they misused the other. But the part that Warren Hastings

played during this unfortunate five years reflects only credit upon

himself. The vices of the East India Company were not his vices; he

was no party to their abuse of their power, or their misuse of their

influence. When he was advanced from the Patna agency, his place was

taken by a Mr. Ellis, who seems to have been exceptionally and

peculiarly unfitted for the delicate duties of his post. He appears to

have carried on all his negotiations and communications with the Nawab

Mir Kasim with a high-handed arrogance and an absence of tact which

were in their way astonishing. Relations between the Nawab and Mr.

Ellis, as the Company's representative, became so strained that in 1762

Warren Hastings was again sent to Patna to investigate the whole

trouble. {252} Clive's judgment was already justified: Warren

Hastings's ability had already found much of the recognition it

deserved; his twelve years of Indian life had changed him from the

adventurous, inexperienced lad into the ripe and skilful statesman upon

whom his masters were confident that they could rely in such a moment

of emergency as had now come.

It would have been better for the Company if they had taken the advice

that Warren Hastings gave in the report on the quarrel between the

Nawab on the one side and Mr. Ellis on the other. He was a servant of

John Company, but he was too good a servant not to see the faults of

his masters and the follies to which those faults were leading. The

Company had blundered very badly before the coming of Clive; had

blundered through false security, through negligence, through

pusillanimity, through greed. After the victories of Clive had placed

the Board in Leadenhall Street, and its representatives in India, on a

very different footing, the Company blundered through rapacity, through

selfishness, through the arrogance born of an unforeseen success. All

manner of oppressions and injustices were committed under the powerful

protection of the English name. Hastings declared that the only way of

ending the difficulty was to come to some definite settlement with the

Nawab as to his authority on the one hand and the Company's privileges

on the other. Together with Mr. Vansittart, the Governor, Hastings

visited the Nawab, and a plan of conciliation was made by which the

rights of the Nawab and the rights of the Company were duly apportioned

and declared. But the headstrong Council of the Company refused the

propositions of Warren Hastings and of Vansittart, and refused to make

any concessions to the Nawab. The irritated Nawab retaliated by

abolishing all internal duties upon trade, by which act he deprived the

English of the unjust advantages for which they had contended. It was

now a question which should attack the other first, and Mr. Ellis,

hearing a rumor of intended hostilities on the part of Mir Kasim,

attacked the Nawab, drove him out of his dominions and {253} set up Mir

Jaffier again for a time. Hastings protested against these acts, and

declared that he would have resigned but that he was unwilling to leave

the Company while engaged in a harassing war. But his position was

uncomfortable. His counsels and those of Mr. Vansittart were unheeded.

English aggression continued. Mr. Vansittart left for England in 1764,

and in the December of that year Hastings followed him, glad to leave a

scene of so much disorder, a disorder that was to increase alarmingly,

until in the September of 1765 Clive reappeared in India and set things

straight again.

[Sidenote: 1765-69--Hastings's return to England]

Of no period of Warren Hastings's life is less known than of the four

years which he spent in his native land--from 1765 to 1769. He did not

return to England like the traditional Nabob, with pockets overflowing

with rupees. He had not employed his time and his energies, as so many

other servants of John Company had done, solely to the furthering of

his own fortunes, and the filling of his own pockets. If he had sailed

for India fourteen years earlier as a penniless lad, he returned to

England comparatively a poor man. He had tried his hand at commerce

like every one else in India, but commerce was not much in his line.

He had the capacities of a statesman, he had the tastes of a man of

letters, but he did not in any great degree possess the qualities that

go to make a successful merchant. It is even said that he had to

borrow the money to pay his passage home, and it seems certain that

when he was home, the generous way in which he endeavored to assist his

relations sorely taxed his meagre means.

Hastings seems to have sought for distinction in the career of a man of

letters and not to have found it. The ability which he displayed in

administration and the writing of State papers and political

correspondence vanished whenever he attempted to produce work that made

a more ambitious claim to be considered literature. The clearness of

statement, the width of view, the logical form, the firm grasp and

profound knowledge which were characteristic of the evidence he gave

before the House of {254} Commons Committee in 1766, gave place to a

thin and niggling pedantry of style when he turned his pen to the

essays and the verses of a man of letters. Yet there were some topics

on which he was eminently qualified to write, and by which, under

happier conditions, he might have earned distinction. While he was in

India he had not allowed his active mind to be entirely occupied with

the duties of his official career. That love of literature, that

marvellous capacity for acquiring knowledge, which had characterized

him in his Westminster school-days, remained with him at the desk of

the East India Company and in the courts of Indian princes. He gave

great attention to the languages and the literatures of the East. Most

of those English who served their term in India contented themselves,

when they troubled themselves at all about the matter, with learning as

much of the native vernaculars with which they were brought into

contact as was necessary for the carrying on of a conversation and the

giving of an order. With such a measure of knowledge Warren Hastings

was not content. He studied Persian, the courtly language of India,

closely; he read much in its enchanting literature. When he came back

to England in 1765 he was possessed of a knowledge of the most

beautiful of the Eastern languages, as rare as it was useless then for

an English man of letters to possess.

[Sidenote: 1769--Warren Hastings as an Oriental scholar]

Almost a century later the great American transcendentalist, Emerson,

prophesied a rise of Orientalism in England, and he lived to see his

words come true. But in the days when Warren Hastings was striving to

make his way in London as an author, the influence of the East upon

literature, upon scholarship, upon thought, was scarcely perceptible.

People read indeed the "Arabian Nights" in M. Galland's delightful

version; read the Persian tales of Petit de la Croix; read all the

translations of the many sham Oriental tales which the popularity of

Galland and Petit de la Croix had called for in Paris, and which the

Parisian writers were ready to supply. But serious Oriental

scholarship can hardly be said to have existed in England. Sir William

Jones was the only Englishman of {255} distinction who was earnestly

devoted to Eastern studies; but his Persian Grammar, which was in some

degree the foundation-stone of Persian scholarship in England, had not

yet appeared, and Sir William Jones was still writing to Reviczki those

delightful letters in which he raves about the poetry of the Arabs and

the Persians. Thus the scholarship of Warren Hastings placed him in an

exceedingly small minority among Englishmen of letters. Hastings was

not the man to be alarmed or discouraged by finding himself in a

minority. He was as impassioned an admirer of Persian poetry as Sir

William Jones; he considered that the Persian language should be

included in the studies of all well-educated men; he dreamed of

animating the waning fires of Oriental learning at Oxford. He had a

vision in his mind of a new scholarship, to be called into being by the

generosity of the East India Company. He thought of Englishmen

becoming as familiar with the deeds of Rustum as with the wrath of

Achilles, as intimate with the Ghazels of Hafiz as with the Odes of

Horace. He seems to have visited Dr. Johnson in the hope of securing

him as an ally in his scheme. The scheme came to nothing, but the

learning, the literary taste, and scholarly ambition of Hastings made a

strong impression upon Johnson, who entertained a stately regard for

the young man from India.

It soon became plain to Warren Hastings that he was not going to make

much of a livelihood either by Persian poetry or by the calling of a

man of letters. His thoughts had turned back to India within a year of

his return to England, and he had applied for employment to the

Company, but for some reason his request was not granted. In 1768,

however, the Court of Directors appointed him to a seat in Council at

Madras, and early in the following year, 1769, he sailed again for

India on his most momentous voyage. Not only was that ship, the "Duke

of Grafton," bearing him to a career of the greatest glory and the

greatest obloquy; not only was it carrying him to a grandeur and a fall

almost unparalleled in the history of men who were not monarchs. On

board the "Duke of {256} Grafton" Warren Hastings was to meet with one

of the most serious influences of his life. We have already seen how

Hastings had married, had been a father, and how wife and children had

passed out of his life and left him alone. Hastings was a man of

strong emotions. Now he met a woman who awoke all the strongest

emotions of his nature and won his devotion for the rest of his life.

The Baroness von Imhoff was a young, beautiful, attractive woman,

married to a knavish adventurer.

It is certain that she and Hastings felt a warm attachment for each

other; it seems certain that Imhoff connived at, or at least winked at,

the attachment. It may be that the understanding between Hastings and

Imhoff was in this sense honorable--that the Baron was willing to free

his wife from an unhappy union that she might form a happy union. It

may be that Hastings's passion was indeed, in Macaulay's fine phrase,

"patient of delay." The simple facts that call for no controversy are

that Hastings met the Baroness von Imhoff in 1769; that eight years

later, in 1777, Imhoff, with the aid of Hastings's money, obtained his

divorce in the Franconian Courts, and that the woman who had been his

wife became the wife of Hastings. She made him a devoted wife; he made

her a devoted husband. Hastings was never a profligate. In an age

that was not remarkable for morality his life was apparently moral even

to austerity. His relationships with the Imhoffs constitute the only

charge of immorality that has been brought against him, and the charge,

at least, is not of the gravest kind. If Anglo-Indian society was at

first inclined to be uncharitable, if the great ladies of its little

world held aloof in the beginning from the Baroness von Imhoff, her

marriage with Hastings seems to have restored her to general favor and

esteem.

[Sidenote: 1771--Hastings's great administrative qualities]

Warren Hastings found plenty of work cut out for him on his return to

India. He had his own ideas, and strong ideas, about the necessity for

reforms. He was much opposed to the policy of sending out as

secretaries to the local governments men who were without local

experience and therefore less likely to take a warm interest {257} in

the Company's welfare, while such appointments were in themselves

unjust to the claims of the Company's own servants. He vehemently

urged the necessity for making the rewards of the service more adequate

to the duties of the service, and he announced himself as determined to

do all he could for "the improvement of the Company's finances, so far

as it can be effected without encroaching upon their future income."

If Hastings could scheme out needed reforms on his way out, he found on

his arrival that the need for reform was little short of appalling.

The position which Hastings held was a curious one. He was President

of the Council, it is true, but president of a council of which every

member had an equal vote, and many of the members of which had personal

reasons for wishing to oppose the reforms that Hastings was coming out

to accomplish. A disorganized government had to be reorganized, an

exhausted exchequer to be refilled, a heart-breaking debt to be

reduced, and all this had to be done under conditions that well might

have shaken a less dauntless spirit than that of Warren Hastings.

Warren Hastings was never for one moment shaken. In a very short space

of time he had greatly bettered the administrative system, had fostered

the trade of the country by the adoption of a uniform and low Customs

duty, and had greatly furthered the establishment of civilized rule in

the province conquered by Clive. He accomplished this in the face of

difficulties and all dissensions in his own Council, against subtle

native intrigues, against opposition open and covert of the most

persistent kind. Every creature who throve out of the disorganization

of India naturally worked, in the daylight or in the dark, against

Hastings's efforts at organization. In 1771, when he was made Governor

of Bengal, he had attempted much and succeeded in much. He fought hard

with the secret terror of dacoity. Having given Bengal a judicial

system, he proceeded to increase its usefulness by drawing up a code of

Mohammedan and Hindu law. For the former he used the digest made by

command of Aurungzebe; for the {258} second he employed ten learned

Pundits, the result of whose labors was afterwards translated into

English by Halhed, who had been the friend of Sheridan and his rival

for the hand of Miss Linley.

The work which Warren Hastings accomplished in India must be called

gigantic. He created organization out of chaos; he marched

straightforward upon the course which Clive had already marked out as

the path of the East India Company's glory. The East India Company was

not very eager to advance along that path. Hastings spurred its

sluggish spirit, and, though he was not able to do all that his daring

nature dreamed of, he left behind him a long record of great

achievements. The annexation of Benares, the practical subjection of

Oude, the extension of British dominion, the triumphs of British arms,

must be remembered to the credit of Warren Hastings when his career as

a great English adventurer is being summed up. That British Empire in

India for which Clive unconsciously labored owes its existence to-day

in no small degree to the genius, to the patience, and to the untiring

energy of Warren Hastings.

[Sidenote: 1773--Hastings and the Rohilla War]

The two heaviest charges levelled against Warren Hastings are in

connection with the Rohilla war and with the trial of Nuncomar, now

better known as Nand Kumar. The genius of Burke and the genius of

Macaulay have served not merely to intensify the feeling against

Hastings, but in some degree to form the judgments and bias the

opinions of later writers. But it is only due to the memory of a great

man to remember that both in the case of the Rohilla war and in the

case of Nand Kumar there were two sides to the question, and that

Hastings's side has not always been investigated with the care it

deserves. The adversary who denounced him in the House of Commons and

impeached him in Westminster Hall, the adversary who assailed him with

a splendid prose, were alike inspired by a longing for justice and a

hatred of oppression. But it should be possible now, when more than a

century has passed since the indictment of the one and well-nigh half a

century since the indictment of the other, to remember {259} that if

Hastings cannot be exculpated there is at least a measure of excuse to

be offered for his action.

There is much to be said from a certain point of view in defence of

Warren Hastings's action with regard to the Rohilla war. The Rohilla

chiefs were no doubt a danger to the Nawab of Oude, whom Hastings

regarded as a useful ally of the Company. By the conquest of

Rohilkhand Hastings hoped to obtain for that ally a compact State shut

in effectually from foreign invasion by the Ganges all the way from the

frontiers of Behar to the mountains of Thibet, while at the same time

this useful ally would remain equally accessible to the British forces

either for hostilities or protection. Put in this way the case seemed,

no doubt, plausible enough to Hastings, and to all who thought with

Hastings that Indian chiefs and princes were but pieces on a board, to

be pushed this way or that way, advanced or removed altogether at the

pleasure and for the advantage of the English resident and ruler. But

what actually happened was that Hastings, in defiance of the whole

principle of the Company's administration in India, interfered in the

contests of native races and lent the force of English arms to aid a

despot in the extirpation of his enemies. It is not to the point to

urge that the Rohillas were not undeserving of their fate. Even if the

Rohillas were little other than robber chiefs, even if their existence

constituted a weak point in the lines of defence against the

ever-terrible Mahrattas, all this did not in the eyes of Burke and of

those who thought with Burke justify Hastings in lending English arms

for their extermination and receiving Indian money for the loan. They

saw an act of hideous injustice and corruption where Hastings saw

merely a piece of ingenious state policy. He gave the troops, he got

the money. The Rohillas were destroyed as an independent power, and

the Company was richer than it had been before the transaction by some

four hundred thousand pounds.

The story of Nand Kumar comes into the history as the result of an

organic change in the composition and administration of the East India

Company. North's {260} Regulating Act of 1773 made many changes in the

administration of English India. The changes that most directly

concerned Hastings converted the Governor of Bengal into a

Governor-General, and reduced his Council to four members. The

Governments of Madras and Bombay were placed under the joint control of

Governor-General and Council. Hastings was appointed, naturally

enough, to be the new Governor-General. His four councillors were

Richard Barwell, General Clavering, Colonel Monson, and Philip Francis.

Barwell was the only one who was a member of Hastings's old Council.

The three others were in England; they had been chosen expressly to

guide Indian policy in accordance with the views of the home

Government. Clavering and Monson had already earned some distinction

of a soldierly kind; Francis was by far the ablest of the three. The

author of the "Letters of Junius" was much of a scholar and something

of a statesman, but he was a man of a fierce and unbending temper,

prompt to quarrel, hotly arrogant in argument, unrelenting in his

hatred of those who crossed his purposes.

These were not the kind of men with whom Hastings was likely to get on,

and from the moment of their landing in India, where they complained

that they were not received with sufficient ceremony, they and Hastings

were furiously hostile. The meetings of the Governor-General and his

Council became so many pitched battles, in which Hastings, aided only

by Barwell, fought with tenacity and patience against men whose

determination appeared to be in every possible instance to undo what he

had done, and to oppose what he proposed to do. They treated him as if

he were little better than a clerk in the Company's service; they acted

as if their one purpose was to drive him out of public life.

[Sidenote: 1775--Charges against Hastings]

As soon as it was plain that the new men of the new Council were

hostile to Hastings, Hastings's enemies were eager enough to come

forward and help in the work. One of Hastings's oldest and bitterest

enemies was the Brahmin Nand Kumar. Nand Kumar had always been hostile

to Hastings. Now, when Hastings was in danger, was {261} threatened

with defeat and with disgrace, Nand Kumar came forward with a whole

string of accusations against him, accusations to which Francis,

Clavering, and Monson listened eagerly. Nand Kumar accused Hastings of

many acts of shameless bribery, declared that he himself had bribed him

in large sums, and produced a letter from a native princess in which

she avowed that she had bribed Hastings in large sums. The three

councillors appear to have accepted every word uttered by Nand Kumar as

gospel truth. Hastings, on his side, refused to be arraigned at his

own Council-board by a man whom he alleged to be of notoriously

infamous character, though he and Barwell were perfectly willing that

the whole matter should be referred to the Supreme Court. At last

Hastings withdrew from the Council, followed by Barwell. The others

immediately voted Clavering into the chair, summoned Nand Kumar before

them, listened to all that he had to say, and on that evidence, in the

absence of the accused man, the self-constituted tribunal found

Hastings guilty of taking bribes from the princess, and ordered him to

repay the sum of thirty-five thousand pounds to the public treasury.

For the moment it seemed as if Francis and his party had carried the

day. Hastings had his back to the wall, he seemed to be well-nigh

friendless. The triumvirate declared that there was no form of

peculation from which Hastings had thought it reasonable to abstain,

and they formally charged him with having acquired by peculation a

fortune of no less than forty lakhs of rupees in two years and a half.

Suddenly, when the position of Hastings appeared to be at its worst, it

changed. Nand Kumar and two Englishmen named Fowke, who had been very

zealous against Hastings, were charged before the Supreme Court with

conspiracy, in having compelled a native revenue farmer to bear false

witness against Hastings. The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court was

Elijah Impey, Hastings's old and attached friend, a circumstance of

which much has been made. While Nand Kumar was bound over for trial on

the charge of conspiracy, another and more serious charge was brought

against him by a native attorney, who {262} accused him of forging and

publishing a bond. On this charge Nand Kumar was arrested, and after a

lengthy hearing of the case committed to the common jail.

There is nothing very surprising in this charge of forgery. Forgery

was not a very serious crime in the eyes of such men as either Nand

Kumar or his accuser. It was made plain that, whether he had forged

the bond or no, he had forged the letter from the princess upon which

the charge against Hastings was based, for the princess herself

declared it to be a forgery. It had aroused some suspicion even before

the disclaimer, on account of the signature, which did not resemble her

signature in undoubted and authentic communications. On the question

of the forged bond Nand Kumar was duly and apparently fairly tried. It

was not very much of a charge. The business was very old. The native

attorney had been seeking for some time to bring Nand Kumar to trial,

and had only substituted a criminal for a civil suit when the

establishment of the Supreme Court enabled him to do so.

[Sidenote: 1775--The execution of Nand Kumar]

Nand Kumar's trial ended in conviction, and conviction for forgery

brought with it by the English law sentence of death. Whatever may be

thought of the crime of forgery in England, it certainly was not looked

upon in India by Indians as a criminal offence of a kind that called

for the severest penalty of the law. But Nand Kumar had been tried by

English law. His judges, in order to show their fidelity not merely to

the spirit but to all the forms of English law, had worn their heavy

wigs all through the torrid heat of those Calcutta June days. By the

English law he was convicted and sentenced to death. The triumvirate

made little or no attempt to save the man on whose word they had

relied. On August 5, 1775, Nand Kumar was hanged on the Maidan outside

Calcutta. He met his death with the composed courage of a man who

looked upon himself as a martyr. Whatever his offences may have been,

he had done nothing which in his own eyes, or in the eyes of his

fellow-countrymen, called for the pitiless punishment which fell upon

him.

Of course, the important question is how far, if at all, {263} Hastings

was concerned in the death of Nand Kumar. That is just the question

which it is impossible to answer definitely. The certain facts are

that Nand Kumar was Hastings's enemy, that Impey was Hastings's friend;

that at a moment of grave crisis in Hastings's life, when Nand Kumar

was the most eminent witness against his name and fame, that witness,

was arraigned on a charge that was very old, that had been suddenly

converted from a civil to a criminal charge; that he was tried, found

guilty, and executed. On the basis of that bare narrative of facts it

would seem that if Hastings had nothing to do with the matter, he might

almost as well have had as far as the judgment of posterity went. The

thing was too apt, the conditions too peculiar not to leave their

stigma upon the memory of the man who gained most by them.

At the same time it must be remembered that, however black the

arguments against Hastings may seem, there is no positive proof that he

was directly implicated in what his enemies called the judicial murder

of Nand Kumar. It must be remembered that the writer who has gone most

deeply into the whole ugly story, Sir James Stephen, in his careful

"Story of Nuncomar," has after long and exhaustive analysis of every

particular of the case recorded his judgment in favor of Impey and of

Hastings. Sir James Stephen's judgment is not final, indeed, but it

must have weight with any one who attempts impartially to appreciate

two public men who have been accused for more than a century of a

terrible crime. Sir James Stephen believes that Nand Kumar's trial was

perfectly fair, that Hastings had no share whatever in the prosecution,

and that there was no collusion of any kind between Hastings and Impey

with regard to the trial, the verdict, or the execution. Every one

must form as best he may his own judgment upon the matter and the men;

but Sir James Stephen's opinion is one that must be taken into account

in any attempt to decide.

The death of Nand Kumar did not end the struggle between Hastings and

his three antagonists. While they made no further attempt of a like

kind--the fate of Nand {264} Kumar, said Francis, would prevent any

further native information against the Governor-General--they still

resolutely strove by all possible means to cross and check him. It is

not necessary to follow in all their mean and wearisome details the

particulars of that prolonged conflict. The odds were against Hastings

until the death of Monson, when, by means of his own casting vote and

the adhesion of Barwell, Hastings found himself the master of the

majority at the Council-table. But the persistence of the attacks had

their result at home, where an ill-advised offer of resignation made by

Hastings was seized upon by the Directors of the Company. The

resignation was accepted, Wheler was appointed Governor-General in his

stead, and pending his arrival in India the post was to be filled by

Clavering.

This was a severe blow for Hastings. At first he thought of yielding

to it, in which case his career in India would have been closed. But

Clavering's indecent eagerness to seize upon the Governor-Generalship

before it was fairly vacant forced Hastings to defiance. He refused to

surrender his office to Clavering. Clavering called upon the army to

support him. Hastings called upon the army to stand fast by him. The

army followed Hastings, and the support of the men of the sword was

followed by the support of the men of the robe. The judges of the

Supreme Court backed up Hastings and censured Clavering, and a little

later Clavering's death left Hastings for the time supreme in the

Council-chamber. His supremacy was contested after the arrival of

Wheler, who immediately sided with Francis against Hastings. But the

supremacy was not overthrown. Hastings was in the majority; he would

not allow the alliance of Francis and Wheler to impede him in his

purposes, and he stuck to his post as Governor-General.

The East India Company made no effort to enforce his resignation. The

Court of Directors resented his conduct, and found fault with him

persistently, but they could not overlook his influence with the Court

of Proprietors, and the condition of affairs in India was too grave to

make the {265} dismissal of Hastings wise or politic. The Government

bore Hastings little love, and the King in particular was much incensed

at his refusal to resign, and was all for his recall and the recall of

Barwell who had abetted, and the judges who had supported him. But the

struggle with the American colonies absorbed the attention of the

Administration too closely to allow them to interfere so markedly in

the affairs of India at a moment when interference might perhaps have a

result not unlike the civil war.

[Sidenote: 1702-82--Haidar the bitter enemy of the English]

English opposition was not the only difficulty that Warren Hastings had

to contend with. Like the monarch in the Arabian tale who discerns

armies marching against his capital from every point of the compass,

Hastings found enemies rising up against him in all directions. A

league of three native powers menaced the safety of the British

possessions. The Mahratta states combined with the Nizam of the

Deccan. Both again combined with a new power whose rise had been as

rapid as it was alarming, the Mohammedan power of Haidar in Mysore.

When Warren Hastings arrived in India the second time Haidar was in his

sixty-seventh year. He was born in 1702 as the son of a Mogul officer

in the Punjaub. At his death Haidar held a rank somewhat similar to

that of a captain in the service of the Emperor of Delhi. Haidar

deemed, and rightly deemed, that there was little or no opportunity for

his ambition in that service, and his eyes seeking for a better chief,

found the man in Nunjeraj, the nominal vizier and real ruler of the

Rajah of Mysore. In 1750 Haidar persuaded the troops under his command

to leave their Mogul prince and take service with the sovereign of

Mysore. Under that sovereignty he rose rapidly to distinction. Though

he was little better than a robber chieftain, the ablest and most

daring robber of a horde of robbers, his power grew so rapidly that in

time he was able to supplant Nunjeraj, and in the end to usurp the

sovereignty of Mysore in 1761.

Haidar had his bitter grudge against the English. In 1771 he had been

badly beaten by the Mahrattas and had appealed to the English to help

him, as they had {266} undertaken by treaty to do. But the help was

refused to the defeated prince, and the defeated prince swore an oath

of vengeance against the English, and when the time seemed ripe he did

his best to keep his oath. When in 1779 France declared war against

England, Haidar declared in favor of the French. He gave his sword to

the service of the Grand Confederacy in 1778 and prepared to march upon

Madras. The President and the Council were taken unawares. It was not

until Haidar had marched with fire and sword into the Carnatic, and

that the smoke of the villages he destroyed in his progress could be

seen from Madras, that they learned that Haidar was in earnest and not

merely making a menace in the hope of frightening the English into an

advantageous treaty. Hastings himself seems to have been convinced

that Haidar did not mean to attack the Company, but when the Mysore

prince's purpose was plain every effort was made to stay his onset.

Lord Macartney, although not one of the Company's servants, was made

Governor of Madras. Haidar was compelled for the time to abandon his

attempt upon the Carnatic. In 1783 his hatred of the English was ended

by his sudden death. But he bequeathed it as a rich legacy to his son

Tippu, a man as daring and as ambitious as his sire.

Hastings won away by concessions the Mahrattas and the Nizam from the

cause of Tippu. But Tippu had his French allies, and Tippu and his

French allies carried on a campaign successful enough to force the

English practically to appeal for a peace, which Tippu accorded in a

treaty flattering at once to his pride and to his ambition. It was a

somewhat dearly bought peace for the English, for Tippu, regarding the

advances of the English as a proof of their weakness, made demands far

more arrogant than his successes justified, and those demands were

agreed to by the English envoys. The treaty with Tippu had to be made

on a basis of mutual restitution of conquests, so that England was left

at the end of the struggle against Mysore with a great loss both of men

and money, and no advantages, territorial or strategical, to set

against the loss. Even the peace upon these terms obtained did not

prove {267} a lasting peace. Tippu was not unnaturally tempted by the

concessions of the English into further displays of arrogance which in

time inevitably resulted in another war. But by the time that war

broke out Warren Hastings had returned to England and had no further

personal concern with the affairs of British India.

In the mean time Hastings's feud with his antagonists on the

Council-board continued. A kind of reconciliation, a kind of agreement

with Francis, enabled Hastings to allow Barwell to return to England

and still to leave the Governor-General in authority at the Board. But

Hastings found that reconciliation or agreement with Francis was

practically impossible. Rightly or wrongly, Francis renewed his old

policy of attacking every proposal and interfering with every project

that Hastings entertained. At last the long quarrel came to a violent

head. Hastings replied to one of Francis's minutes in some severe

words, in which he declared himself unable to rely upon Francis's word,

as he had found Francis to be a man devoid of truth and honor.

[Sidenote: 1780--Hastings and Francis fight a duel]

Such a charge made in those days was generally to be met with in only

one way. In that way Francis met it. Francis challenged Hastings to a

duel. Hastings accepted the challenge. The antagonists met, exchanged

shots, and Francis fell severely wounded before the pistol of Hastings.

Hastings sent friendly messages to Francis and offered to visit him,

but Francis rejected his overtures absolutely, and on his return to

health renewed his attacks upon Hastings until the close of the year,

when he sailed for England to carry on more successfully his plans

against his enemy.

Well as the Supreme Court had served Hastings in the case of Nuncomar

and in the quarrel with Clavering, the time came when Hastings found

himself placed in a position of temporary hostility to that Court and

to his old friend Impey. The bad machinery of the Act of 1773 left

room for almost every possibility of friction between the Supreme Court

on the one hand and the Council on the other, instead of framing, as it

should have framed, its {268} measure so as to allow the two powers to

work harmoniously together, each in its own sphere, for the welfare of

British India. The friction grew more intense as time went on.

Sometimes one party to the quarrel was in the right, sometimes the

other. Whichever was the case, the spectacle of the quarrel was in

itself sufficiently humiliating and sufficiently dangerous. Hastings

devised a scheme for the better regulation of the powers and privileges

of the two conflicting bodies, but his scheme was put on one side by

the British Government, and the Court and the Council remained as

irreconcilable as before. At last it reached such a pitch that the

Court issued a summons against the Government. The Government ignored

the summons; things stood at a dead-lock; the personal relationships of

Hastings and Impey were strained almost to severance. In this crisis

Hastings thought of and carried out a compromise. He offered to Impey

the presidency of the Company's chief civil court. Impey accepted the

offer, and, though he has been severely censured for what has been

called the taking of a bribe, the compromise proved to be the best way

out of the difficulty that had arisen. Impey, who has been happily

called the first of Indian codifiers, showed himself to be an excellent

head for the provincial courts that were thus put under his control.

The provincial courts had been hitherto more of a curse than a

blessing; under Impey's guidance they were brought into harmony with

the Supreme Court. Impey was not long suffered to remain in his new

office. Two years after his acceptance of the post he was removed from

it by order of the Court of Directors. But the work he had done in

that short time was good work and left abiding traces. Hastings's plan

had borne fruit in Impey's "Code," and afterwards in the passing of an

Act of Parliament clearly defining the jurisdiction and the powers of

the Supreme Court.

[Sidenote: 1781--Hastings and the Rajah of Benares]

One of the latest acts of Warren Hastings's administration was also one

of the acts that most provoked the indignation and the resentment of

those who in England were watching with hostile eyes the progress of

his career. {269} Chait Singh, the Rajah of Benares, held authority at

first under the ruler of Oude, and afterwards under the government of

the East India Company, to whom the sovereign of Oude had transferred

it. The Rajah of Benares paid a certain tribute to the Company. The

heavy necessities of the war compelled Hastings to call upon the Rajah

for a larger sum. The step was not unusual. In time of war a vassal

of the Company might very well expect to be called upon for an

increased levy. But the Rajah of Benares was very unwilling to give

this proof of his devotion to the Company. He demurred, temporized,

promised aid of men and arms, which was never rendered. Hastings seems

to have been convinced, first of all, that the Rajah was possessed of

enormous wealth, and could well afford to pay heavily for the privilege

of being ruled over by the Company, and in the second place that it was

necessary for the power and influence of the Company to force the

almost mutinous Rajah to his knees. He made a final demand for no less

than fifty lakhs, or half a million pounds, and set off himself for

Benares to compel the Rajah to obey.

Hastings never wanted courage, but his Benares expedition was certainly

the most daring deed of his whole life. He entered the sacred city of

Benares attended by an escort of a mere handful of men, and in Benares,

in the midst of a hostile population, and practically in the power of

the Rajah, he acted as if he were the absolute master of prince,

people, and city. He insisted upon his full demands being complied

with, and as the Rajah's reply appeared to be unsatisfactory he

immediately ordered his assistant, Mr. Markham, to place the Rajah

under arrest. The audacity of the step was so great as to suggest

either that Hastings was acting with the recklessness of despair, or

had formed no thought as to the not merely possible but probable result

of his action. The Rajah accepted the confinement to his palace with a

dignified protest. Two companies of sepoys were placed to guard him.

These sepoys had no ammunition; they were surrounded by swarms of the

Rajah's soldiery raging at the insult offered to their lord. The

Rajah's men fell upon the sepoys and cut them {270} and their English

officers to pieces. The Rajah lowered himself to the river by a rope

of turbans, crossed the Ganges, and shut himself up in his stronghold

of Ramnagar. Hastings's life was in imminent peril. Had he remained

where he was he and his thirty Englishmen and his twenty sepoys would

have been massacred. He fled in the darkness of the night to the

fortress of Chunar, about thirty miles from Benares, where there was a

small garrison of the Company's troops.

[Sidenote: 1781--The Vizier of Oude and the Begums]

However rash Hastings might have been in provoking the conflict with

the Rajah, once it was provoked he carried himself with admirable

courage and coolness. Shut up with a small force in a region blazing

with armed rebellion, menaced by an army of forty thousand men, he

acted with as much composure and ability as if he were the unquestioned

master of the situation. He declined all offers of assistance from the

Vizier of Oude, rejected all Chait Singh's overtures for peace, and

issued his orders to the forces that were gradually rallying around him

with rare tact and judgment. In a very short time the whole aspect of

affairs changed. The Company's forces under Major Popham defeated the

Rajah's troops, captured fort after fort, drove the Rajah to take

refuge in Bundelcund, and brought the city and district of Benares

under British rule again. Hastings immediately declared that the

fugitive Rajah's estates were forfeited, and he bestowed them upon the

Rajah's nephew upon tributary terms which bound him faster to the

Company, and exacted double the revenue formerly payable into the

Company's exchequer.

But the money which Hastings so urgently needed, the money for which he

had struck his bold stroke at Benares, was still lacking. All the

booty gained in the reduction of Benares had been divided among the

victors; none of it had found its way into the Company's coffers. The

Vizier of Oude was deeply in the Company's debt, but the Vizier of Oude

was in desperately straitened circumstances, and could not pay his

debt. Knowing Hastings's need, the Vizier exposed to him certain plans

he had formed for raising money by seizing upon the estates of the two

{271} Begums, his mother, the widow of the late Nawab, and his

grandmother, the late Nawab's mother. The Vizier may have had just

claims enough upon the Begums, but it was peculiarly rash and

unjustifiable of Hastings to make himself a party to the Vizier's

interests. Hastings, unhappily for himself, lent the Vizier the aid of

the Company's troops. The Begums, who were quite prepared to resist

their feeble-spirited relation, did not go so far as to oppose the

Company in arms. Their palace was occupied, their treasure seized,

their servants imprisoned, and they themselves suffered discomforts and

slights of a kind which constituted very real indignities and insults

in the eyes of Mohammedan women. This was practically the last, as it

was the most foolish, act of Hastings's rule. It had the misfortune

for him of stirring the indignant soul of Burke.

{272}

A History of the Four Georges and of William IV, Volume III · 第 17 / 22 章