CHAPTER X

INDIA

“We hold ourselves bound to the natives of our Indian territory

by the same obligations of duty which bind us to all our other

subjects.”--(Proclamation of Queen Victoria, 1st November 1858.)

Montaigne once uttered a protest against those historians who “chew

the mouthfuls for us,” and spoil all in the process. He coupled with

it, however, another vice which is really far more serious, namely,

their habit of laying down rules for judging, and “for bending history

to their fancy.” As for the presenting history in mouthfuls, it is

probably the only way of making it digestible except for those mighty

intellects which seize facts and figures with avidity, and assimilate

them as if by magic.

Further, the modern historian may urge in defence of the topical method

that it is the only practicable way of dealing with the infinity of

topics of the last two centuries, ranging over parliamentary debates

and wars, finance and social gossip, mean intrigues and philanthropic

movements, industrial changes and empire-building, the efforts of

great men and the impersonal forces that mould and move great nations,

together with the denuding agencies that weather away the old surface

and the resistless powers that thrust up a new world. How shall a

finite intellect grasp at once all the moving details of this varied

life? The mind craves to consider at any one time only one part of the

majestic procession, just as it demands that the facts of Nature shall

be grasped under different sciences. Human life is one as Nature is

one; but the division in each case is necessitated by the increasing

width of man’s outlook. All that is essential in the sorting-out

process is that it shall honestly set forth all the important facts,

and here and there open out vistas revealing the connection with

other fields of human activity. In short, history can no longer be

a detailed panorama of life, but it can and ought to be a series of

companion pictures, informed by the personality of the artist and

devoid of conscious prejudice.

Among the diverse subjects which confront us in the many-sided

career of Pitt, none stands more apart than that of his relations

to India. Of his Herculean labours we may, perhaps, term this one

the cleansing of the Augean stables. The corruption that clung about

the Indian Government, the baffling remoteness of its duties, the

singular relations of the East India Company to the Crown, and of its

own officials to it, above all, the storms of passion which had been

aroused by the masterful dealings of Warren Hastings and the furious

invectives of Burke, presented a problem which could not be solved

save by the exercise of insight, patience, and wise forcefulness. It

would greatly overburden this narrative to recount the signal services,

albeit marred by deeds of severity and injustice, whereby Hastings

grappled with the Mahratta War and the incursion of Hyder Ali into

the Carnatic. All that need be remembered here is that Parliament had

censured some of his actions and demanded his recall, that the Court of

Directors of the Company had endorsed that demand, but that the Court

of Proprietors had annulled it. Hastings therefore remained at his

post, mainly, it would appear, from a conviction that he alone could

safeguard British supremacy.

Accordingly, on this all-important question there was division in the

executive powers at Calcutta, and in the East India Company itself;

while the insubordination of very many of the Company’s servants in

India further revealed the insufficiency of Lord North’s Regulating Act

of 1773. Fortunately, however, the finances of the Company were in such

disorder as to make it amenable to pressure from Westminster. It owed

a very large sum to the Home Government for duties on its imports into

Great Britain; and Parliament was thus the better able to assert the

supremacy of the nation.

It was high time to make good this claim. The India Bills of Fox and

of Pitt had been thrown out; and thus, despite an infinity of talk,

the whole situation remained unchanged, except that nearly every one

now agreed that it must be changed. On questions of detail opinions

differed widely. Some of the proprietors and Directors of the Company

protested against any interference whatsoever with chartered rights

which they were perfectly able to uphold and vindicate. The opposite

extreme was touched by Fox during a preliminary debate on the affairs

of the Company, when he declared that body to be a sink of corruption

and iniquity, a mere conduit for bringing home the wealth acquired by

its servants in India. If, said he, the patronage of the India service

must be vested either in the Directors or in the Crown, let the Crown

take that influence from hands which had so shamefully abused it.

Pitt’s position, it soon appeared, was intermediate between these

extremes. Four days later, on 6th July 1784, he introduced his second

India Bill in a speech marked by great circumspection. He started from

the same principles which had fashioned the outlines of his former

measure (see chapter vii), that, though a charter ought not to override

the needs of the State, yet nothing but absolute necessity could

justify its abrogation. The affairs of the Company, he claimed, did

not warrant so extreme a measure. His aim would be, not to abolish,

but improve on, the existing plan of government for India. There were

two essentials to be aimed at, namely, a due share of activity and

resourcefulness in the Indian Government and obedience to the measures

dictated by Parliament. The former of these requisites could be

attained only by according to the Indian Government a certain degree of

power, and from the latter it resulted that that power must be subject

to the control of a regulating Board at home.

Pitt therefore recurred to his former plan. He left to the Governments

of the Presidencies, above all, to the Governor-General, enough

authority to enable them to cope with emergencies; but he also

proposed to subject them to a Board consisting of members chosen by

the Crown from the Privy Council. To this special committee of the

Privy Council would be entrusted the power of devising legislation

for India, of controlling Indian policy, and of recalling any of the

Company’s officials. It was not, however, to have a voice in those

questions of patronage which might deflect it from the path of duty and

impartiality. The proceedings of the Board might be open to perusal by

the Directors of the Company; but its behests would be final. In case

of flagrant disobedience, or of other grave offences, the officials and

servants of the Company were to be tried by a Commission consisting of

members of the two Houses of Parliament chosen by ballot shortly before

the trial.

Such were the chief proposals. As for the spirit which informed the

measures, it may be divined from that part of the speech in which

the Prime Minister set forth the fundamental principles of our

Indian policy. They were in brief these, the avoidance of war and of

alliances that might lead to war, and the use of such conciliatory

methods as would further the aim which we had chiefly in view--pacific

commerce.[290]

Neither the spirit of enlightened patriotism, which pervaded the

speech, nor the practical nature of the proposals screened the measure

from fierce opposition. That acrid opponent of Warren Hastings, Mr.

Francis, taunted Pitt with leaving to the Directors of the Company

the mere shadow of authority, but he prophesied that the large

powers vested in the Governor-General and in the Governments of the

Presidencies would be abused as flagrantly as ever they had been in the

past. Fox expanded these objections with his usual force, asserting

that far too large powers were given to the Crown, and that the

proposed Board would be quite as partisan a body as the Commissioners

to whom he in his India Bill had entrusted the regulating power. He

further insisted that to leave appointments to the Company, while

depriving it of authority, was a miserably weak expedient which must

sap the base of government. On their side, the Directors of the Company

complained that the present Bill at several points trenched on their

trading rights, which they had always expressly reserved to themselves;

and they urged that they must retain in their own hands the right of

recalling their own servants. As for the proposed tribunal for the

trial of disobedient officials, it seemed to them an unsatisfactory

experiment, seeing that both trial by jury and impeachment were ill

adapted to the complex questions of Indian administration.[291]

Nevertheless, the Company had to give way at nearly all points.

The powers of the Court of Proprietors almost entirely lapsed (to

the satisfaction of all but themselves); and a clause was passed,

compelling the Company’s officials to state on oath the amount of

their fortunes at the end of their service, Pitt himself suggesting

that private gains up to £2,000 a year after the first five years of

service should not be deemed culpable. Though the Bill prohibited the

receiving of “presents” from natives, it was clear that officials

would use other equally objectionable means in order to arrive at that

unobjectionable sum.

On the whole, however, the principle of controlling Indian affairs from

Westminster, which Lord North had rather haltingly asserted eleven

years earlier, now became the dominant fact of the situation. This will

be clear if we review the constitution and powers of the new Board of

Control. It was to consist of six members of the Privy Council chosen

by the King; the Chancellor of the Exchequer and one of the Secretaries

of State being always included. In the absence of these two, the senior

member of the remaining four was to preside; and finally the conduct

of the Board’s affairs came to rest virtually with him, so that he

became, in all but name, Secretary of State for India. For the present,

however, as appears from a letter of Dundas to Cornwallis of 29th July

1787, Pitt attended the Board regularly and thoroughly mastered its

business.

To this Board were submitted all letters and despatches between the

Company and its officials in India, except those which referred solely

to trade. Every proceeding and resolution of the Court of Directors

must come to it; and from it there issued orders which the Directors

were bound to enforce. Further, at the second reading Pitt amended his

Bill so as to allow the Board in urgent cases to frame and transmit

their commands to India without communicating them to the Directors.

Finally, if the Company appealed against the Board’s decisions, the

ultimate judgement lay with the King in Council, that is, with a body

largely the same as that from which it appealed.[292] While, therefore,

Pitt instituted what was called a system of dual control, that control,

save in the lower sphere of commerce, was really exercised by the Home

Government. In the long series of changes which transformed the venture

of a company of London merchants into an Empire administered by the

British people, no step is more important than that taken by him in

this, his first great constructive effort.

But this was not all. Various circumstances in the next eighteen months

showed the need of still further strengthening the Indian executive.

Certain ominous moves of the French caused anxiety. In the spring of

1785 their East India Company was revived on an imposing scale; and

the close relations subsisting between France and the Dutch Republic

augured ill for the British dominions in the Orient. Everything,

therefore, tended to emphasize the need of strong Government at

Calcutta; and the attention directed to Indian affairs, consequent on

the charges brought against Warren Hastings early in the year 1786,

further convinced many competent judges of the need of strengthening

the Indian executive. These considerations furnish the reasons which

led Pitt to bring in an Amending Act.

If we may judge from Pitt’s speeches of 17th and 22nd March of

that year, he had been much impressed by the sagacity of the

Governor-General in seeking to frame an alliance with the Great Mogul

for the purpose of counterbalancing the offensive league of Tippoo

Sahib with the French. The action of Hastings’ Council in frustrating

this statesmanlike plan, because it contravened the instructions of the

Company, showed the unwisdom of doubly tying the hands of a competent

governor, first by instructions drawn up in Leadenhall Street, and

secondly by a Council in which pedantry or personal spite could

paralyze great enterprises. Obviously what was required was to choose

the right man as Governor-General, then to grant him powers large

enough to meet serious crises, and to place him in such a relation to

the Home Government that those powers would not be abused. None of

these conditions could be satisfied so long as the Company appointed

the supreme officials and prescribed their functions.

But Pitt’s Bill of 1784 had changed all this. As we have seen, the

British Government was now the driving force of the Indian machinery,

the Company acting merely as an intermediate wheel. The responsibility

of the Governor-General to the new India Board and to Parliament having

been decisively asserted, his powers could now safely be increased.

This formed the _raison d’être_ of Pitt’s Amending Act of March 1786.

Though introduced by Dundas--a graceful compliment to his exertions

in Indian matters in time past--it emanated from the Prime Minister.

It applied the principles of the India Bill of 1784 to the servants

of the Company in Great Britain. But, what was far more important, it

enabled the Governor-General to override the opinions of his Council

at Calcutta, the members thenceforth merely recording in writing their

protests or the grounds of their opposition. The like powers were

also conferred on the Governors of Madras and Bombay. Finally, the

Governor-General was empowered to fill up any vacancy in the Council

occasioned by death, and was also to act as Commander-in-Chief.

These far-reaching proposals caused Burke’s spleen to overflow. He

burst forth into a violent diatribe against this “raw-head and bloody

bones Bill.” Pitt’s first India Bill, he declared, was an abortion of

tyranny, an imperfect foetus in a bottle, to be handed about as a show,

but hypocrisy had nursed it till now the full-grown monster was before

them.

And at his heels,

Leash’d in like hounds, shall famine, sword, and fire

Crouch for employment.

It was absurd, he said, to expect energy and despatch from a despotism

like that about to be set up in India. Democracy owed most of its

triumphs to the openness and strength of its operations. The joint

experience of many must prevail over the fallible judgements even

of the best mind on earth. After this outburst, which Burke must

have regretfully recalled when he undertook his crusade against

French democracy, Fox emptied the vials of his wrath on the measure,

especially taunting Pitt with robbing the Council at Calcutta of all

administrative functions. This was not surprising, he said, as the

Minister so obviously preferred speech to action. His speeches were

splendid, his actions presented a long record of failure. “Let others

act, the honourable gentleman desired only to argue.” Pitt wisely

declined to notice heated personalities, and limited his speech to

the task of proving that the Bill cured several of the weaknesses

of the Indian Government, and met the needs of the situation. This

reply, quiet, dignified, and practical, carried the House with him by

a majority of eighty-nine. The Bill passed the third reading without a

division on 27th March. Such was Pitt’s retort to the windy declamation

of his opponents.

Thus was completed the fabric begun two years before. Thenceforth the

Governor-General wielded a concentrated power such as India had not

known since the decline of the Moguls. No longer could he be thwarted

by the members of his own Council as Warren Hastings had often been by

the intrigues of Monson and Francis. In truth the Viceroyalty was now

an autocracy such as orientals could understand and respect. But this

autocracy was, after all, local and conditional--a fact which Burke

overlooked or ignored. While wielding despotic authority in India, the

new Viceroy was but an adjunct of the British constitutional machine.

It is perhaps the highest of Pitt’s achievements that he saw how to

combine two ideals of Government, the oriental and the occidental, in

a way that conduced to vigour of action in Bengal, and did not impair

popular progress at home. While investing the real ruler of India

with powers far greater than those wielded by Warren Hastings, he

subordinated them to the will of King and Parliament.

It has been asserted that Pitt was weak as a legislator.[293] It will

be well to notice this charge at the close of these volumes. But

surely, when judged by all conceivable standards, his India Bills must

take rank amongst the greatest of legislative achievements. For by

those measures, Pitt subordinated the most powerful of all Companies

to the British Parliament. By it, as we have seen, he harmonized the

claims of a viceregal autocracy in the Orient with those of popular

government at home; and he thereby saved the British Empire from the

fate which befell that of Rome. Historians of the Roman Republic agree

that the favourites of the Senate of the type of Verres who were

let loose on the provinces beyond the sea, not only proved the most

frightful scourge to the subject peoples, but also undermined popular

liberty at home by the unscrupulous use of their plundered hoards. The

same system palsied the limbs of that Empire and drugged its brain.

Whether the “nabobs” who rolled off from India and settled down in

England would finally have exerted this doubly baleful influence, it

is futile to inquire; but, had they gorged and bribed for several

generations, the results must have been serious among a people that

look on politics from a very practical standpoint.

On the other hand, to have run amok at that class, like Burke, might

have yielded them the ultimate victory. Pitt observed the golden mean.

For the present, the Company hailed him as its champion. But, while

saving it from the Quixotic crusader, he bound it and its servants by

strong ties, which it was found easy to tighten at every renewal of

the Charter. Above all he strengthened the hands of the Viceroy even

while binding him more closely to the Home Government. Has any other

statesman succeeded in the task of linking an oriental autocracy with

the ancient parliamentary system of a Teutonic race?

The first of the parliamentary Governors-General was the man whom

Pitt early in 1784 designed for the equally difficult post of Lord

Lieutenant of Ireland. In the summer of that year, as also early

in 1785, he urged Earl Cornwallis to combine the functions of

Governor-General and Commander-in-Chief of India; but the earl at that

time declined, partly because the powers of the Commander-in-Chief

were unduly restricted.[294] The high hopes which Dundas had long

entertained of the abilities of Cornwallis, shown by his desire to

offer to him the Viceroyalty in 1782, now led the Ministry to meet his

objections by introducing the Amending Act for extending the powers of

the Governor-General in cases of emergency.[295] Cornwallis accordingly

accepted office; and in the seven years of his Viceroyalty (1786–1793)

British rule was so far strengthened as to withstand the attacks of the

Mahrattas and the far-reaching combinations of Bonaparte.

* * * * *

The same year which saw the dawn of a new era for India, witnessed also

the impeachment of Warren Hastings. We are not concerned here with the

series of events which provided material for that longest and most

famous of our State trials. What does concern us is the behaviour of

Pitt in what was perhaps the most complex problem confronted in his

early manhood. Seeing that he was chiefly responsible for the vote in

the House of Commons which made impeachment inevitable, this part of

the question cannot be passed by. Difficult though it is to separate

one of the charges brought by Burke and Fox against Hastings from the

others, yet limits of space compel us to restrict our survey to that

one which induced Pitt to vote for the impeachment. It related to

Hastings’ treatment of Cheyt Singh, the Zamindar (not quite correctly

termed the Rajah) of Benares.

The reader is doubtless aware that Hastings’ tenure of the Governorship

of Bengal in and after the year 1772 coincided with a period of

exceptional difficulty, which was enhanced by the acrid and often

underhand opposition of Francis, Clavering, and Monson in the Governing

Council at Calcutta. Further, the East India Company was often on

the verge of bankruptcy. Undoubtedly the perpetual want of money led

Hastings to the most questionable of his enterprises, the letting

out of the Company’s troops to the Rajah of Oude for the purpose of

driving out or subjecting the Rohillas, a race of freebooters on his

north-western borders. But difficulties thickened with the outbreak

of the war with the Mahrattas and the French. The climax came in 1780

when Hyder Ali, the usurper of Mysore, let loose his hordes upon the

Carnatic, and threatened to sweep the British into the sea. Then it was

that the genius of Hastings awoke to full strength. He strained every

nerve to send from the Hooghly a large force of troops to the relief

of the despairing settlement at Madras; and, money being an essential,

he cast about for all means of finding it without wholly depleting the

exchequer of the embarrassed Company. Among other devices he pressed

one of his feudatories, Cheyt Singh, Zamindar of Benares, for a sum of

£50,000 in addition to the annual tribute. Seeing that the British held

the paramountcy in India, and therefore enjoyed the right of calling

on the vassal princes for help in time of emergency, the claim was

reasonable, especially as Cheyt Singh’s father owed his position to the

East India Company. After giving extra assistance in each of the years

1778–80, Cheyt Singh began to grow restive in 1780 when the demand was

renewed, and showed signs of disloyalty. Hastings thereupon imposed a

fine of £500,000. More than this, he went to Benares in person, hoping

to browbeat the Zamindar; but, his following being scanty, the troops

of the latter rose against him, and cooped him up in his residence.

With the splendid coolness which never deserted him, he manfully faced

the danger. Secretly he sent warning to some of the Company’s forces

not far distant, and British valour rescued him from his desperate

plight. An Englishman in resolution, Hastings was an oriental in his

methods of punishment and revenge. Forthwith he deposed Cheyt Singh,

and set in his place another Zamindar with a much enhanced tribute

(September 1781).

The same plea of overmastering necessity impelled him to interfere in

the affairs of Oude, an episode which, when tricked out in the gorgeous

rhetoric of Burke and Sheridan, shocked the conscience of the British

people. Sheridan’s oration on “The Spoliation of the Begums of Oude”

is perhaps the most thrilling Philippic of the modern world; but its

force is sensibly lessened when we know that Burke derived his version

of facts from a poisoned source. Francis, the bitter enemy of Warren

Hastings, had been worsted by that master-mind in the Council-chamber

at Calcutta; and, on challenging him to a duel, had been wounded in

fair fight. It was this man, beaten twice over, who in 1781 returned

to England to brood over means of revenge, and found them incarnate in

Burke.

The genius which enabled that great Irishman to pour out serene and

soul-satisfying judgements on the affairs of nations was allied with

a more than feminine sensitiveness that often left him at the mercy

of first impressions and Quixotic impulses. On all points of honour,

whether personal or national, his chivalrous nature carried him to

extremes bordering on the fantastic. The two incidents recounted above

kindled in him a passion of indignation, which cooled but slowly, even

when hatred of the French Revolution obsessed him. All attempts to

ascribe Burke’s crusade against Hastings to partisanship or personal

spite have egregiously failed. As Macaulay has shown in his brilliant

but untrustworthy essay on Warren Hastings, Burke’s opposition to

Hastings began in 1781, survived the kaleidoscopic changes of the

next decade, and lived on into the new world of the Revolutionary

Era. Clearly it resulted from a profound difference of view on Indian

affairs. Even to-day, when the justificatory facts of Hastings’ career

are well known, his actions are wholly condemned by men of a similar

bent of mind. On the other hand his policy appears statesmanlike to

those who look first at the wealth of benefits conferred on India by

the British Raj and pay little heed to miscarriages of justice which

they regard as incidental to an alien administration. The Hastings

episode will ever range in hostile groups men of strongly marked

dispositions; while the judicial minority will feel themselves drawn

perplexingly first to the sentimental side and then to the practical

side as new facts and considerations emerge from the welter of evidence.

From midsummer 1785, when Hastings landed at Plymouth and repaired to

the Court at Windsor, England was rent asunder by these prepossessions.

The King, as might be expected, received him with marked favour;

but it caused some surprise that Queen Charlotte, who was propriety

personified, should affably receive his wife, the _divorcée_ of a

complaisant Baron Imhoff. For a time it seemed that Hastings could

afford to scorn the efforts of his opponents. Burke had given

notice of a hostile motion in the House of Commons; but, in the then

discredited state of the Opposition, it was unlikely to pass. Ministers

for the most part approved the conduct of Hastings. Pitt also is said

to have been favourably impressed by an interview which they had

towards the end of June. Unfortunately no account survives of what must

have been a memorable meeting. Hastings was then fifty-two years of

age, exactly double the span of life passed by the Prime Minister. But

the young statesman had by instinct the same faculty of controlling his

feelings under a calm exterior which the Governor-General had perfected

during years of vindictive opposition at Calcutta. The countenance of

each was thin and worn by the workings of a too active brain, reminding

the beholder of the noble lines of Milton:

Deep on his front engraven

Deliberation sat and public care;

And princely counsel in his face yet shone

Majestic.

Undoubtedly they were then the ablest men of action of our race; and,

despite envious surmises to the contrary, we may be sure that Pitt

looked with admiration on the placid intellectual features of the man

whose gigantic toil had saved British India. Both of them had the

power of throwing off the cares of state and of indulging in playful

intercourse with friends;[296] and charm of manner and conversation

must have enlivened the interview.

Yet each was closely on his guard. The opposition of Dundas to Hastings

(for he it was who moved the vote of censure on him in May 1782) must

have coloured Pitt’s feelings; and Hastings, as we know, believed that

the India Bill of 1784 was a veiled attack upon himself. The interview

certainly did not reassure him; for he thenceforth informed his friends

that he could not depend on the support of Pitt.[297] The doubts were

strengthened by the omission of the honours that so distinguished a man

might have expected; but this fact was attributable to the motion of

censure of which Burke had given notice in the House.

Thus Pitt maintained a cautious reserve. To say that he was waiting

to see which way the wind would blow is manifestly unjust. He was

awaiting further information in what was a most complicated case. We

know that he sent to Hastings for an explanation of the terms of a

zamindar’s tenure of office, evidently in order to clear up some of

the questions respecting the Zamindar of Benares.[298] Thus, while

Lansdowne, Mansfield, and Thurlow loudly proclaimed their confidence in

Hastings; while the King continued to converse with him most affably at

the _levées_, and Queen Charlotte accepted a splendid ivory bedstead

presented by his wife, Pitt remained guardedly neutral.

Many members of the Opposition wished to let the motion of censure

drop, and urged this at a private meeting held at the Duke of

Portland’s residence shortly before the meeting of Parliament in

January 1786. But the zeal of Burke and Fox had not cooled with time.

Further, on the first day of the session they were pointedly challenged

by Major Scott, the accredited agent of Hastings in the House. At best

Scott was a poor champion. Verbose, tedious, and ever harping on the

same theme, he wearied the House with the wrongs of Hastings before

they came officially before it; and on the first day of the great trial

Fanny Burney remarked: “What a pity that Mr. Hastings should have

trusted his cause to so frivolous an agent! I believe--and indeed it is

the general belief, both of friends and foes--that to his officious and

injudicious zeal the present prosecution is wholly owing.”[299]

Yet Scott would scarcely have flung down the gauntlet without the

knowledge and consent of his patron. Indeed on all grounds it is

probable that Hastings, with his customary daring, preferred that the

question should come to the clear light of a trial rather than swell

with the accretions of gossip and dark innuendoes.[300] We must also

remember that until the vote of censure of 28th May 1782 was removed

from the journals of the House his name was under a cloud; and now that

the accusations of Burke and Francis hurtled more thickly through the

air, the whole matter was bound to come to the arbitrament of the law

or of pistols.

On Hastings and Scott, then, rests the responsibility for renewing

the strife. While they thus rashly opened the game, Burke replied on

17th February 1786 by a move of unusual skill. He requested that the

Clerk of the House should read Dundas’s resolutions of censure of May

1782, and then ironically suggested that that gentleman, formerly

the president of the special committee of the House, was the man who

now ought to take action against the ex-Viceroy. He himself was but

a humble member of that committee, and he now looked, but in vain,

to those in power to give effect to the earlier resolutions. “But I

perceive,” he said, with his eyes on Pitt, “that any operations by

which the three per cents may be raised in value affect Ministers more

deeply than the violated rights of millions of the human race.”[301]

Dundas, never an effective speaker, failed to wriggle away from the

charge of inconsistency thus pointedly driven home. The attitude of

Pitt was calm and dignified. In the course of the adjourned debate

he professed his neutrality on the question. While commending Burke

for the moderation with which he then urged his demands, he admitted

that the charges brought against Hastings ought to be investigated

and his guilt or innocence proved by incontestable evidence. “I am,”

he said, “neither a determined friend nor foe of Mr. Hastings, but I

will support the principles of justice and equity. I recommend a calm

dispassionate investigation, leaving every man to follow the impulse of

his own mind.”[302]

This declaration of neutrality, the import of which will appear in

the sequel, did not imply that there was to be no investigation.

The challenge having been thrown down, the tournament was bound to

proceed. Thenceforth Pitt confined himself to the functions of arbiter.

Burke now enlarged his motion so as to include all the official

correspondence respecting Oude, whereupon the Minister urged him always

to state his reasons for the production of documents, and not to expect

those which revealed any secret policy. Burke said he was ready to

specify his charges, and he did so. He further said that he was in

possession of abundant evidence to make good those charges. On his

applying for certain confidential papers, Pitt opposed the motion; but

he agreed to sixteen other motions for papers. In face of these facts,

how can the panegyrists of Warren Hastings claim that Pitt objected

to Burke’s procedure and carried a motion against it?[303] Burke’s

motions were agreed to without a division, the Prime Minister having

merely given an obviously necessary veto in the case of confidential

documents.

In view of the charges of gross inconsistency that have been brought

against Pitt on the Hastings trial, it will be well to look into

details somewhat closely. On 3rd March 1786 Burke returned to the

charge by pressing for the communication of papers respecting the

recent peace with the Mahrattas and cognate subjects. At once Dundas

and Pitt objected, on the ground that very many of those documents were

of the most confidential character, revealing, as they did, the secret

means whereby the Mahratta confederacy was dissolved. In the course

of his speech Pitt declared that Hastings had made that peace “with

an address and ingenuity that did him immortal honour.” But he added

that other charges against him might be substantiated. In vain did Fox

and Burke protest against the withholding of documents bearing on the

present topic. The sense of the House was against them. Wilberforce

applauded the caution of Ministers, as did eighty-seven members against

forty-four on a division. A similar motion by the accusers for the

production of papers relative to Delhi met with the same fate three

days later.

On Fox renewing his demand for the Delhi papers (17th March), Pitt took

occasion to state his views clearly. If State papers were called for in

order to set on foot a criminal prosecution, he required the mover to

“show a probable ground of guilt,” and secondly, that the papers were

necessary to substantiate that guilt; the third condition was that the

public service would not suffer by publication.[304] He then proceeded

to prove that the action of Hastings in seeking to form an alliance

with the Great Mogul (despite the orders of the Company) was timely and

statesmanlike, as it promised to thwart the alluring offers of Tippoo

Sahib and the French to that potentate. Finally he asserted that, if he

could reveal the Delhi correspondence to the House, all members would

see how improper its publication would be. For his own ease and for

the reputation of Hastings, which would be enhanced by such a step, he

could wish to give it to the world, especially as all the documents

hitherto granted were hostile to the ex-Viceroy; but in the interests

of the country he must oppose the demand of the prosecutors for the

Delhi papers. In spite of the slap-dash assertions of Sheridan that the

contents of those papers were perfectly well known, the House upheld

Pitt’s decision by 140 votes to 73.[305]

The next move of the prosecutors was to demand the presence of certain

witnesses at the bar of the House. The Master of the Rolls objected

on points of form, and also protested against the appearance of

pamphlets hostile to Hastings which had been industriously circulated

among the members of both Houses. Burke then admitted that most of

the State Papers asked for had been granted, though some had been

denied, but acridly complained that Ministers were now trying to

quash the prosecution. Pitt did not speak.[306] On 26th April Burke

brought forward two more charges, whereupon Pitt remarked that they

contained much criminal matter, but he had formed no opinion as to

their correctness; he hoped that it would appear otherwise, but the

House must examine them with the utmost impartiality. Fox having

taunted him with pretending to see no guilt where he saw too much,

Pitt deprecated such outbursts. Later in the debate he demurred to the

examination of witnesses called by the prosecutors before Hastings

himself had been heard at the bar. Justice, he said, demanded that the

accused should have a hearing before the accusers substantiated their

case. He also declared that he would not consent to the examination of

witnesses, still less to vote the impeachment of Hastings, on the vague

and indefinite charges as yet before the House. Wilberforce expressed

the hope that the Minister would persevere in the steady path he had

pursued and would not be driven from it by the intemperate attacks of

opponents. Burke inveighed against Pitt’s decision; but the latter

carried the day by 139 votes to 80.

It was therefore by Pitt’s action that Hastings procured a hearing

in the House--an opportunity which, if tactfully used, might have

disconcerted his accusers. But the opportunity was lost. Instead of

making a telling speech, Hastings proceeded to read a long and laboured

reply, which occupied all the sittings of 1st and 2nd May, and emptied

the House. Members accustomed to the faultless oratory of Pitt and

the debating vigour of Fox, yawned at the dreary recital of remote

events of which they knew little and cared less. Accordingly, it was

with enhanced hope of success that Burke, after a month of careful

preparation, brought forward his charges respecting the Rohilla War.

On 13th June he introduced them. On the former of them Grenville

defended the conduct of Hastings on the ground that the Rohillas

had by their raids provoked the war, and that it was well to remove

them. Dundas censured the Rohilla War, but maintained that, while the

Governor-General should have been recalled for it twelve years ago,

there was no ground for impeaching him for it now, especially as in

the interval Parliament had three times named him Governor-General.

Wilberforce, whose opinion weighed much with Pitt, took the same view.

The most significant speech of the defence was that of Wilbraham

who, on behalf of Hastings’ honour, urged the House to refer the

charges to the House of Lords, where alone a full acquittal could be

pronounced.[307] Pitt spoke only on a small technical point, but voted

with Grenville and Dundas. Despite a long and powerful speech by Fox,

the House sided with what seemed to be the ministerial view, and at

half-past seven in the morning of 3rd June rejected Burke’s motion by

119 votes to 67.

Undaunted by this further rebuff, Fox, on 13th June, very ably brought

up the charge relating to the treatment of Cheyt Singh, Zamindar of

Benares.[308] He allowed that the continuance of Hastings in power

twelve years after the Rohilla War seemed to imply that Parliament had

condoned that offence; but this plea could not be urged respecting

the Benares affair of 1781. He showed that the Company had agreed to

respect the independence of the Zamindar of Benares, and that Hastings

had pressed on him remorselessly for aids in money and cavalry, and

had finally mulcted the exhausted prince of half a million sterling.

The fate of Bengal, he claimed, depended on their condemnation of so

tyrannical a proceeding.

All eyes were turned on Pitt as he rose to state his views on this

question; and Wraxall avers that never did the range of his faculties

appear greater, his marshalling of facts more lucid, or his elocution

more easy and graceful. This is the more remarkable as the young

Minister avowed his desire on personal grounds to absent himself from

the discussion of so complex and remote a problem. We also know from

his letter of 10th June to Eden, that he had “hardly hours enough

to read all the papers on that voluminous article” (the Benares

charge).[309] It is therefore clear that he formed his judgement within

a very short time of his speech. In this, however, he soon showed

that he had probed the intricacies of the question. Setting forth in

detail the terms of a zamindar’s tenure, he disproved Fox’s contention

that the Company had no right to exact an “aid” from an “independent

rajah.” He demurred to the epithet “independent,” at least as regarded

the supreme power in India. The suzerain power has as good a right in

time of crisis to exact “aids” from its feudatories as any Suzerain in

Europe from his feudal dependents. Next he crushed Francis by citing

his own written opinion that extraordinary demands might be exacted

from such feudatories. Having set forth the question in its true light,

and exposed the inconsistency and malice of Francis, he approached

the crux of the whole problem, whether the fine ultimately exacted

from Cheyt Singh was not excessive. Here he objected to the drawing

of precedents solely from the days of the Indian Emperors. It was the

duty of every British administrator to behave according to the rules of

justice and liberty; and, said he, “On this ground I feel it impossible

to acquit Mr. Hastings of the whole of the charge brought against him;

for I feel in my conscience that he has pushed the exercise of that

arbitrary discretion which, from the nature of the Eastern Government,

was intrusted to him to a greater length than he was warranted to do by

the necessity of the service.” While justified in imposing a penalty,

he continued, Hastings had not proportioned the punishment to the

guilt. In fining Cheyt Singh £500,000 for a mere delay to pay £50,000

(which £50,000 in the last instance was actually paid) Hastings had

“proceeded in an arbitrary tyrannical manner.” As to the restoration of

Cheyt Singh to his possessions, it was beset by certain difficulties,

and he preferred for the present to withhold his opinion.

That speech led to the impeachment of Warren Hastings; for though

Grenville, Lord Mulgrave, and the Attorney-General (Pepper Arden) spoke

against the Prime Minister, the judgement of the last named prevailed;

the House endorsed it by 119 votes to 79, or about the same numbers as

had rejected the previous charge. The conduct of Pitt on this occasion

has been vehemently assailed. Wraxall, writing many years later,

maintained that it was a sudden and unaccountable change of front; and

he further suggested that the jealousy which was said to be felt by

Dundas for the superior abilities of Hastings might have influenced

Pitt’s action.

As the insinuation has been endlessly repeated, I may be pardoned for

dwelling on it somewhat fully. The story has been tricked out with a

wealth of details. It is asserted that Pitt issued a Treasury circular

calling for the attendance of his supporters on the 13th of June, as

if it were for the defence of Hastings. No proof of this statement has

ever been given; and there are good grounds for disbelieving it. In

the first place it should be remembered that attendance at the House

had been greatly thinned by the Whitsuntide holidays. The vacation was

just over; and, as everyone acquainted with Parliament ought to know, a

full House was hardly to be expected at the first sitting afterwards.

Pitt’s letter of 10th June to Eden contains the following sentence.

After stating that there had recently been a short and languid debate,

and a division of seventy-one to thirty-three, he continues: “We

shall probably have some attendance next Tuesday when Mr. Fox moves

the charge respecting Benares; and after that our chief difficulty

will be to get a House for the next fortnight. In the meantime I have

hardly hours enough to read all the papers necessary on that voluminous

article.”[310]

These are not the words of a man who is about to perform an act of

treachery. It is clear that Pitt found great difficulty in getting

through the evidence on that charge before the debate came on; and

further, that he was doing his duty as leader of the House in trying

to assure as good an attendance as the holiday season permitted on

a charge of this importance. Wraxall, who here opposed Pitt, makes

no mention of any ministerial “whip” in favour of Hastings, as he

would certainly have done if he could thereby have strengthened his

case against him. The fact that neither he nor Tomline refers to the

calumny proves the lateness of its origin. Further, if a special “whip”

had been sent out for the support of Hastings, would not some of the

ex-Viceroy’s friends, especially Major Scott, have exposed the fraud?

But no reference to it is to be found in the report of that debate.

Are we also to suppose that the forty or fifty members who changed

sides with Pitt, would have gone over to the accusers if he had been

guilty of such duplicity? Finally, it is clear from the remarks of

Grenville, Mulgrave, and Pepper Arden, that even the colleagues of Pitt

felt perfectly free to vote as they chose. Mulgrave declared that the

Prime Minister would not be fit to remain in office a single day if he

expected his friends and associates to give up their opinions on this

subject. Pitt, as we have seen, had at the outset called on members

to exercise their impartiality; and he now assented to Mulgrave’s

statement.[311] The story that Pitt sent round a “whip” for the support

of Hastings, and then drove his followers like sheep into the opposite

lobby, may therefore be dismissed as a malicious fiction, at variance

with all the known facts of the case.

Then again it is stated by Lord Campbell in his sketch of the life

of Lord Eldon,[312] that Pitt mysteriously abandoned Hastings,

“and--contrary to the wish of Lord Thurlow who had a scheme for making

Hastings a peer, perhaps a Minister--gave him up to impeachment.” The

charge is made in a very loose way; but on it the detractors of Pitt

have built a theory that Dundas and he feared the advent of Hastings

to the India Board, or to the Ministry, or to the House of Lords. This

story has been varied and amplified, so that in one version George III

appears as desirous of forcing him into the Cabinet, or granting him a

peerage on the sole recommendation of Thurlow. But the letter which the

King wrote to Pitt on 14th June shows that, while regretting his action

concerning Hastings, he respected his conscientiousness, and harboured

no thought of breaking with him.[313] That Thurlow had boasted of his

power to further the interests of Hastings is likely enough; but it is

certain that the King never thought of thrusting the ex-Viceroy into

the Cabinet, or the India Board of Control, or of raising him to the

House of Lords without the approval of his Prime Minister. The King’s

letters to Pitt[314] show that his chief desire then was to meet the

large and growing expenses of his family; and Pitt’s economic policy

made his continuance in power at that time especially desirable. Royal

condescension towards Hastings set all tongues wagging; and they have

wagged ever since on the malignant jealousy of Dundas, and the gross

inconsistency of Pitt; but the proofs adduced are of the flimsiest

character. Wraxall and Bland Burges, who later on jotted down their

impressions of parliamentary life, asserted that Dundas had somehow

become convinced that the King intended to eject him from the India

Board of Control and put Hastings in his place. But neither of them

gave any proof. Wraxall merely stated that “the public believed” that

Dundas feared such a change.[315] Bland Burges averred that Dundas had

“by some means” come to know the secret intention of the King, and

therefore “sedulously fanned Mr. Pitt’s jealousy and uneasiness and so

alarmed his mind that he hurried him on to a decision before he had

time to satisfy himself as to its justice or expediency.”[316]

Equally unconvincing is the story, which Hastings himself told some

thirty years later, that on the morning of 13th June Dundas called on

Pitt, remained closeted with him for some hours, and convinced him that

they must abandon the ex-Viceroy. The insinuation conveyed in this

belated anecdote is that Pitt was then and there won over by Dundas,

and owing to the mean motives mentioned above. The ingrained tendency

of men to seek for petty personal pretexts rather than larger, more

generous, and more obvious causes, seems to be the _raison d’être_

of the story and of its perpetuation. There are also some natures so

warped by partisanship that they naturally refer actions of political

opponents to discreditable motives; and it is a sign of the bias which

detracts from the value of Macaulay’s “Warren Hastings,” that he did

not mention the late date at which the story was started, while he

gives it as an historic fact that Pitt’s change of front was “the

result of this conference.”

No statement of what went on at this alleged interview has ever been

forthcoming; but, fortunately, on the all important question of motive,

we have the clear testimony of one who knew Pitt most intimately,

and whose political differences never distorted his imagination.

Wilberforce, who had followed Pitt’s actions closely throughout the

case, afterwards declared that justice had not been done to Pitt:--

People [he said] were asking what could make Pitt support him

[Hastings] on this point and on that, as if he was acting from

political motives; whereas he was always weighing in every

particular whether Hastings had exceeded the discretionary power

lodged in him. I well remember (I could swear to it now) Pitt

listening most attentively to some facts which were coming out

either in the first or second case. He beckoned me over, and went

with me behind the chair, and said: “Does not this look very ill

to you?” “Very bad indeed.” He then returned to his place and made

his speech, giving up Hastings’ case. He paid as much impartial

attention to it as if he were a juryman.[317]

Here we have evidence at first hand, though belonging to Wilberforce’s

later years. Clearly it must refer to the events of 13th June; and

it shows that if any one person was responsible for Pitt’s change of

front that person was Wilberforce. Late in life the philanthropist

declared that Pitt’s regard for truth was exceptionally keen, springing

as it did “from a moral purity which appeared to be a part of his

nature.” He also added that the want of simplicity and frankness

sometimes observable in his answers really sprang from this scrupulous

veracity.[318]

To quote the opinion of another experienced politician. William

Pulteney wrote to Pitt the following hitherto unpublished letter:

LONDON, 15th June 1786.

I cannot abstain from congratulating you on the line you took on

Tuesday. It will do you great credit everywhere, but, what you

will always think of more importance, I am convinced it will have

the most salutary effects in every part of this great Empire,

and particularly in India. Such is the powerful influence of

strict honour and justice in those who govern kingdoms that it

pervades every mind and in a great degree regulates the conduct of

individuals. On the other hand, the wilfully permitting persons in

high and responsible situations to go unpunished and uncensured,

when guilty of important offences, is sufficient to foster the bad

and corrupt principles in all other minds and to lay a foundation

for similar and greater offences. You have my hearty thanks, and I

am sure will have the thanks of all who understand the importance

of your conduct.

I am, etc.

W. PULTENEY.[319]

Few persons did understand his conduct, and sensitive pride kept his

lips sealed. Nevertheless to all unprejudiced minds his conduct needed

no defence. On that higher plane where truth and justice are alone

considered (for justice is applied truth), Pitt did not swerve from

the principles which he at first laid down. From the beginning of the

Hastings case he had sought to hold the balances even. He left it open

to his colleagues to differ from him. He refused the publication of

papers favourable to Hastings where they compromised the welfare of the

State or the characters of our Indian feudatories. He insisted that

the charges against Hastings should be clearly drawn up, and that he

should be allowed to answer those charges in person. On the topic of

the Rohilla War he did not speak, doubtless because his mind was not

made up. The fact that Parliament had three times re-appointed Hastings

after that very censurable event, did in a technical sense screen him

from prosecution now. But on the Benares affair, no such plea could be

urged. It was a question on which the present Parliament alone had to

decide.

The enormous vogue enjoyed by Macaulay’s Essays compels me once more

to notice his treatment of Pitt respecting the Benares charge. A man

of philosophic temperament once expressed a wish that he was as sure

about anything, as the great Whig historian was about everything. This

assertiveness peeps through the veil of diffidence which Macaulay

donned before delivering the verdict, that any man with a tenth part of

Pitt’s abilities ought to have convicted Hastings on the Rohilla charge

and acquitted him on the Benares charge.[320] In order to establish

this assertion Macaulay passed by the technical plea above named,

which must have weighed with Pitt, and then used his powers of special

pleading to whittle down Pitt’s arguments on the Benares case, so that

they seem to turn ultimately on the trumpery question whether the fine

inflicted on the Zamindar was rather too large or not. But we may ask,

firstly, was it a small affair to exact half a million sterling from a

prince who during three years had been hard pressed, and as a matter of

fact had paid up the arrears for which that fine was imposed? Did it

concern the Zamindar alone? Did it not concern all the subjects from

whom that half million must ultimately be wrung?

Not only did the conduct of Hastings far exceed the limits required by

justice; it was also bound up with a question on which the stability of

our Indian Empire has ever rested. So long as the feudatories of the

British Raj feel confidence in his sense of justice, India is safe.

Whenever they have cause to believe that injustice and oppression are

the characteristics of his rule, the foundations of the Indian Empire

are shaken to their base. Not without reason did Fox declare that the

decision on the Benares affair was vital to the preservation of our

ascendancy in Bengal. The statesmanlike eye of Pitt, we may be sure,

discerned the same truth. Besides, there was an additional reason why

he should now more than ever resolve to engrave the names of Justice

and Mercy on the newly formed arch of the Indian Government. As has

been shown, the recent India Bill placed greatly increased powers in

the hands of the Governor-General. Burke and Fox had taunted Pitt

with setting up a despotism from which endless suffering must flow.

The charge was hollow; but, adorned as it was by splendid rhetoric,

it created a deep impression. Was it not well, then, to show by a

concrete example that any Viceroy who violated the principles of

justice would meet with condign punishment at Westminster? A statesman

has to consider, not merely the principles of justice, as applied to

an individual; he must also think of the results of his actions on

the millions whom they will affect; and we may reasonably infer that

among the motives which led Pitt to break with many of his friends

not the least was a heartfelt desire to safeguard the relations of

the feudatories to the Suzerain Power, and to protect the myriads of

Hindoos who had no protection save in the dimly known court of appeal

at Westminster.

On the charge respecting the spoliation of the Begums of Oude, Pitt

also cast his vote against Hastings; and again a majority followed him.

It is questionable whether even the sensationally brilliant oration of

Sheridan on this affecting topic moved the House so much as the silent

but scornful disapproval expressed in Pitt’s vote.[321] The impeachment

was thenceforth inevitable.

With the forensic pageant that ensued we are not here concerned.

Thenceforth the case belonged strictly to the legal domain. Its

duration throughout the years 1788–95 was certainly discreditable to

British law. Hastings out of his never affluent fortunes spent some

£71,000 in the vindication of his actions,[322] and at last secured an

acquittal. But though men in Europe forgot the case amidst the potent

distractions of the French Revolution, the effect of it was not lost

upon the Orient. The comparative calm which settled benignly on India

for twelve years may be attributed largely to a renewal of confidence

in the sense of justice of our people. After the events of the year

1786 princes and peasants alike felt assured that the most transcendent

services, if smirched with acts of injustice, would never screen a

Viceroy from the censure of the British Parliament.

William Pitt and national revival · 第 10 / 25 章