SECTION 12.

(1788.)

THE TRIAL OF WARREN HASTINGS.

[Probably few events in the history of England are more familiar

to the general reader than the trial of Warren Hastings. If

nowhere else, at least in the best known and, perhaps, most

brilliant of Macaulay's essays every one has read of the career

of that extraordinary man, and of the long contest in Westminster

Hall, from which he came forth acquitted, after an ordeal of

seven years' duration. We shall, accordingly, confine our

remarks upon this subject within the narrowest limits consistent

with intelligibility: Fanny's experiences of the trial, recorded

in the following pages, rendering some review of the proceedings

which caused it here indispensable.

Warren Hastings was a lad of seventeen when, in 1750, he was

first sent out to India as a writer in the East India Company's

service. His abilities attracted the notice of Clive, and, after

the downfall of the Nawab Suraj-u-Dowlah, Hastings was chosen to

represent the Company at the Court of Mir Jafir, the new Nawab of

Bengal. In 1761 he was appointed Member of Council at Calcutta,

and he returned to England in 1765, unknown as yet to fame, but

with an excellent reputation both for efficiency and integrity.

He left Bengal in a state of anarchy. The actual power was in

the possession of a trading company, whose objects were at once

to fill their coffers, and to avoid unnecessary political

complications. The show of authority was invested in a Nawab who

was a mere puppet in the hands of the English company. Disorder

was rampant throughout the provinces, and the unhappy Hindoos,

unprotected by their native princes, were left a helpless prey to

the rapacity of their foreign tyrants.

At a time when to enrich himself with the plunder of the natives

was the aim of every servant of the East India Company, it is

much to the honour of Hastings that he returned home a

comparatively poor man. In England he indulged his taste for

literary society, busied himself with a scheme for introducing at

Page 87

oxford the study of the Persian language and literature, and made

the acquaintance of Dr. Johnson. But generosity and imprudence

together soon reduced his small means. He applied to the

Directors of the Company for employment, was appointed to a seat

on the Council at Madras, and made his second voyage to India in

1769. Among his fellow-passengers on board the "Duke of Grafton"

was Madame Imhoff, whom he afterwards married.

At Madras Hastings managed the export business of the Company

with conspicuous success, and so completely to the satisfaction

of the Directors, that, two years later, he was promoted to the

governorship of Bengal, and sent to exercise his administrative

ability and genius for reform -%N here they were then 'greatly

needed-at Calcutta. With this appointment his historic career

may be said to commence. He found himself at the outset in a

situation of extreme difficulty. He was required to establish

something- resembling a stable government in place of the

prevailing anarchy, and, above all things, with disordered

finances, to satisfy the expectations of his' employers by

constant remittances of money. Both these tasks he accomplished,

but the difficulties in the way of the latter led him to the

commission of those acts for which he was afterwards denounced by

his enemies as a monster of injustice and barbarity.

Hastings's conduct with respect to the Great Mogul has been

sketched by Macaulay in words which imply a reprehension in

reality undeserved. Little remained at this time of the

magnificent empire of Aurungzebe beyond a title and a palace at

Delhi. In 1765 Lord Clive had ceded to the titular master of the

Mogul empire the districts of Corah and Allahabad, lying to the

south of Oude, and westwards of Benares. The cession had been

made in pursuance of the same policy which Hastings afterwards

followed; that, namely, of sheltering the British possessions

behind a barrier of friendly states, which should be sufficiently

strong to withstand the incursions of their hostile neighbours,

and particularly of the Mahrattas, the most warlike and dreaded

of the native powers. But Clive's purpose had been completely

frustrated; for the Mogul, far from shielding the English, had

not been able to hold his own against the Mahrattas, to whom he

had actually ceded the very territories made over to him by the

Company. Under these circumstances the English authorities can

hardly be blamed for causing their troops to re-occupy the

districts in question, nor can it fairly be imputed as a crime to

Hastings that in September, 1773, he concluded with the Vizier of

Oude the treaty of Benares, by which he sold Allahabad and Corah

to that friendly potentate for about half a million sterling.

But the next act of foreign policy on the part of the Governor of

Bengal--his share in the subjugation of the Rohillas--does not

admit of so favourable an interpretation. The Rohillas occupied

territory lying under the southern slopes of the Himalayas, to

the north-west of Oude. The dominant race in Rohilcund was of

Page 88

Afghan origin, although the majority of the population was

Hindoo. Of the rulers of Rohilcund Hastings himself wrote, in

terms which we may accept as accurate, "They are a tribe of

Afghans or Pathans, freebooters who conquered the country about

sixty years ago, and have ever since lived upon the fruits of it,

without contributing either to its cultivation or manufactures,

or even mixing with the native inhabitants."(257)

In 1772, the Rohillas, hard pressed by their foes, the Mahrattas,

sought the assistance of the Vizier of Oude, Shuja-u-Dowlah, to

whom they agreed to pay, in return for his aid, a large sum of

money. This agreement was signed in the presence of an English

general, and an English brigade accompanied the vizier's army,

which co-operated with the Rohilla forces, and obliged the

Mahrattas to withdraw. But when Shula-u-Dowlah demanded his

promised hire, he received from the Rohillas plenty of excuses

but no money. Hereupon he resolved to annex Rohilcund to his own

dominions, and, to ensure success, he concerted measures with

Hastings, who, willing at once to strengthen a friendly power and

to put money into his own exchequer, placed an English brigade at

the vizier's disposal for a consideration Of 400,000 pounds. In

the spring of 1774 the invasion took place. The desperate

bravery of the Rohillas was of no avail against English

discipline, and the country was so reduced to submission.

Macaulay's stirring account of the barbarities practised by the

invaders has been proved to be greatly exaggerated. Disorders,

however, there were: the people were plundered, and some of the

villages were burnt by the vizier's troops. Many of the Rohilla

families were exiled, but the Hindoo inhabitants of Rohilcund

were left to till their fields as before, and were probably not

greatly affected by their change of master.

Hastings's conduct in this affair is, from the most favourable

point of view, rather to be excused than applauded. It may have

been politic under the circumstances, but it was hardly in

accordance with a high standard of morality to let out on hire an

English force for the subjugation of a people who, whatever

grounds of complaint the Vizier of Oude might have had against

them, had certainly given no provocation whatsoever to the

English Government. As to the plea which has been put forward in

his favour, that the Rohillas were merely the conquerors, and not

the original owners of Rohilcund, it is sufficiently answered, by

Macaulay's query, "What were the English themselves?"

In 1773 Lord North's "Regulating Act" introduced considerable

changes in the constitution of the Indian government, and marked

the first step in the direction of a transfer of the control over

Indian affairs from the Company to the Crown. By this act "the

governorship of Bengal, Bahar, and Orissa was vested in the

Governor-General, with four Councillors, having authority over

Page 89

Madras and Bombay ; and all correspondence relating to civil

government or military affairs was to be laid by the Directors of

the Company in London before his -Majesty's Ministers, who Could

disapprove or cancel any rules or orders. A Supreme Court of

judicature, appointed by the Crown, was established in

Calcutta."(258) The Governor-General was appointed for a term of

five years, and the first Governor-General was Hastings. Of the

four councillors with whom he was associated, three were sent out

from England to take their places at the board, and landed at

Calcutta, together with the judges of the Supreme Court, in

October, 1771. Indisputably the ablest, and, as it proved,

historically the most noteworthy of these three, was Philip

Francis, the supposed author of "Junius's Letters."

Even before the council commenced its duties dissensions arose.

The newcomers, Francis, Clavering, and Monson, were in constant

opposition to the Governor-General. Indeed, the hostility

between Hastings and Francis rose by degrees to such a height

that, some years later, they met in a duel, in which Francis was

severely wounded. For the present, however, the opponents of

Hastings formed a majority on the council, and his authority was

in eclipse. His ill-wishers in the country began to bestir

themselves, and a scandalous and, there is no doubt, utterly

untrue charge of accepting bribes was brought against him by an

old enemy, the Maharajah Nuncomar. Hastings replied by

prosecuting Nuncomar and his allies for conspiracy. The accused

were admitted to bail, but a little later Nuncomar was arrested

on a charge of having forged a bond some years previously, tried

before an English jury, condemned to death, and hanged, August 5,

1775, his application for leave to appeal having been rejected by

the Chief justice, Sir Elijah Impey. Hastings solemnly declared

his innocence of any share in this transaction, nor is there any

evidence directly implicating him. On the other hand, it must he

remembered that Nuncomar had preferred a most serious charge

against Hastings; that the majority on the council were only too

ready to listen to any charge, well or ill founded, against the

Governor-General; and that Nuncomar's triumph would, in all

probability, have meant Hastings's ruin. Even Mr. Forrest admits

that "it is extremely probable, as Francis stated, that if

Nuncomar had never stood forth in politics, his other offences

would not have hurt him."(259) Macaulay comments upon the

scandal of this stringent enforcement Of the English law against

forgery under circumstances so peculiar, and in a country where

the English law was totally unknown.(260) That Nuncomar was

fairly tried and convicted

Page 90

in the ordinary course of law is now beyond doubt, but we still

hold that it was Impey's clear duty to respite his prisoner.

That he did not do so is a fact which, beyond all others, gave

colour to the assertion of Hastings's enemies, that the execution

of Nuncomar was the result of a secret understanding between the

Governor-General of Bengal and the Chief justice of the Supreme

Court. But, however brought about, the death of Nuncomar was to

the opponents of Hastings a blow from which they never recovered.

The death of Monson, in September, 1776, and that of Clavering, a

year later, placed him in a majority on the council ; his

authority was more undisputed than ever ; and at the expiration

of his term he was re-appointed Governor-General.

During the years 1780 and 1781 British rule in India passed

through the most dangerous crisis that had befallen it since the

days of Clive. A formidable confederacy had been formed between

the Nizam, the Mahrattas, and the famous Hyder Ali, Sultan of

Mysore, with the object of crushing their common enemy, the

English. The hostility of these powerful states had been

provoked by the blundering and bad faith of the governments of

Bombay and Madras, which had made, and broken, treaties with each

of them in turn. "As to the Mahrattas," to quote the words of

Burke, "they had so many cross treaties with the states general

of that nation, and with each of the chiefs, that it was

notorious that no one of these agreements could be kept without

grossly violating the rest."(261) The war in which the Bombay

Government had engaged with the Mahrattas had been as

unsuccessful in its prosecution as it was impolitic in its

commencement, until, early in 1780, a force under General Goddard

was dispatched from Bengal to co-operate with the Bombay troops.

Goddard's arrival turned the tide of events. The province of

Gujerat was reduced, the Mahratta chiefs, Sindia and Holkar, were

defeated, and everything portended a favourable termination of

the war, when the whole face of affairs was changed by news from

the south.

Hyder Ali, the most able and warlike of the native princes, swept

down upon the Carnatic in July, 1780, at the head of a

disciplined army of nearly 100,000 men. He was now an old man,

but age had not broken his vigour. He rapidly overran the

country; an English force, under Colonel Baillie, which opposed

him, was cut to pieces, and Madras itself was threatened. The

prompt measures adopted by Hastings on this occasion saved the

colony. Reinforcements were hurried to Madras; the veteran, Sir

Eyre Coote, was entrusted with the command of the army; and the

triumphant

Page 91

career of Hyder Ali was checked by the victory of Porto Novo,

July 1st, 1781. The end of the war, however, was yet far off.

Peace was concluded with the Mahrattas, on terms honourable to

them, in 1782, but in the south the struggle was still maintained

by Hyder Ali and his French allies, and after Hyder Ali's death,

in December of that year, by his son Tippoo; nor was it brought

to a termination until after the general peace Of 1783.

To support the financial strain of these wars Hastings had

recourse to measures which, with the colouring given to them by

his enemies, gave subsequent rise to two of the heaviest charges

brought forward by the managers of his impeachment. His first

victim was Cheyt Sing, the Rajah of Benares, a tributary of the

English Government. Cheyt Sing had been formerly a vassal of the

Vizier of Oude, and when, in 1775, the vizier transferred his

sovereign rights over Benares to the English, the Bengal

Government confirmed the possession of the city and its

dependencies to Cheyt Sing and his heirs for ever, stipulating

only for the payment of an annual tribute, and undertaking that

the regular payment of this tribute should acquit the Rajah of

further obligations. It was afterwards contended on behalf of

Hastings that this undertaking did not annul the right of the

superior power to call upon its vassal for extraordinary aid on

extraordinary occasions, and this view was upheld by Pitt.

Hastings began operations in 1778 by demanding of the Rajah, in

addition to his settled tribute, a large contribution towards the

war expenses. The sum was paid, but similar requisitions in the

following years were met with procrastination or evasion, and a

demand that the Rajah should furnish a contingent of cavalry was

not complied with. This conduct on the part of Cheyt Sing

appeared to the Governor-General and his Council "to require

early punishment, and, as his wealth was great and the Company's

exigencies pressing," in 1781 a fine of fifty lakhs, of rupees

(500,000 pounds) was laid upon the unlucky Rajah; Hastings

himself proceeding to Benares, with a small escort, to enforce

payment. Cheyt Sing received his unwelcome visitor with due

respect, but with ambiguous answers, and Hastings, most

imprudently, gave the order for the Rajah's arrest. The Rajah

submitted, but his troops and the population of Benares rose to

the rescue : a portion of Hastings's little force was massacred,

the Rajah regained his liberty, and the Governor-General found

safety only in flight. The insurrection rapidly spread to the

country around, and assumed dangerous proportions, but the

promptitude and vigour of-Hastings soon restored order. Cheyt

Sing was deposed, compelled to flee his country, his estates were

confiscated, and a new Rajah of Benares was appointed in his

stead.

The charge subsequently preferred against Hastings in connection

with this affair turned upon the question whether Cheyt Sing Was,

as the prosecutors affirmed, a sovereign prince who owed no duty

to the Bengal government beyond the payment (which he

Page 92

had regularly performed) of a fixed annual tribute; or as

Hastings contended, a mere feudal vassal, bound to furnish aid

when called upon by his over-lord. Pitt, as we have said, took

the latter view, yet he gave his support to the charge on the

ground that the fine imposed upon the Rajah of Benares was

excessive., Upon the whole, it would appear that Hastings was

acting within his rights in demanding an extraordinary subsidy

from the Rajah but the enormous amount of the fine, and the

harshness and in' dignity with which Cheyt Sing was treated,

point to a determination on the part of the Governor-General to

ruin a subject prince, with whom, moreover, it was known he had

personal grounds of pique.

The deposition of Cheyt Sing was followed by an act on which was

afterwards founded the most sensational of all the charges

brought against Warren Hastings. Shuja-u-Dowlah, the Nawab

Vizier of Oude, to whom Hastings had sold the Rohillas, died in

1775, and was succeeded by his son Asaph-u-Dowlah. At the time

of his death Shuja-u-Dowlah was deeply in debt, both to his own

army and to the Bengal Government. The treasure which he left

was estimated at two millions sterling, but this vast sum of

money and certain rich estates were appropriated by his mother

and widow, the begums, or princesses, of Oude, under the pretence

of a will which may possibly have existed, but was certainly

never Produced. With this wealth at their disposal the begums

enjoyed a practical independence of the new vizier, who was no

match in energy and resolution for his mother and grandmother. A

small portion, however, of the money was paid over to the vizier,

on the understanding, guaranteed by the Bengal Government, that

the begums should be left in undisturbed enjoyment of the

remainder of their possessions. Hastings believed, and, it would

seem, on good grounds, that the younger begum had busied herself

actively in fomenting the insurrection which broke out upon the

arrest of Cheyt Sing at Benares. He conceived a plan by which he

might at once punish the rebellious princesses, and secure for

the exchequer at Calcutta the arrears of debt due from the

Government of Oude. He withdrew the guarantee, and urged the

Vizier to seize upon the estates possessed by the begums.

Asaph-u-Dowlah came willingly into the arrangement, but, when it

became necessary to act, his heart failed him. Hastings,

however, was not to be trifled with. English troops were

employed: the begums were closely confined in their palace at

Fyzabad; and, to the lasting disgrace of Hastings, their personal

attendants were starved and even tortured, until they consented

to surrender their money and estates. Hastings's conduct in

withdrawing the guarantee was not without justification ; the

means which he suffered to be employed in carrying out his

purpose, and for the employment of which he must be held

primarily responsible, were utterly indefensible.

Page 93

Long before his return to England, the Governor-General's

proceedings had engaged no little share of public attention in

this country. In Parliament

the attack was led by Burke and Fox;

Hastings's chief defender was one Major Scott, an Indian officer

whom he had sent over to England as his agent in 1780, and who

maintained his patron's cause by voice and pen, in Parliament and

in the press, with far more energy than discretion. In 1784 Mrs.

Hastings arrived in England, bringing home with her, says

Wraxall, "about 40,000 pounds, acquired without her husband's

privity or approval;" and a year later her husband followed her,

having

resigned his Governor-Generalship. The fortune which he now

possessed was moderate, his opportunities considered, and had

been honourably acquired; for his motives had never been

mercenary, and the money which he had wrung from Indian princes

had invariably been applied to the service of the Company or the

necessities of his administration. He was received with honour

by the Directors and with favour by the Court. There was talk of

a peerage for him, and he believed himself not only beyond

danger, but in the direct road to reward and distinction. But

all this was the calm which preceded the storm. The enemies of

Hastings were active and bitterly in earnest, and they were

receiving invaluable assistance from his old opponent in council,

Francis, who had returned to England in 1781. In April, 1786,

the charges, drawn up by Burke, were laid on the table of the

House of Commons. The first charge, respecting the Rohilla war,

was thrown out by the House, ministers siding with the accused.

But on the second charge, relating to the Rajah of Benares, the

Prime Minister, Pitt, declared against Hastings on the ground

that, although the Governor-General had the right to impose a

fine upon his vassal, the amount of the fine was excessive, and

the motion was affirmed by a majority of forty votes. Early the

next session, in February, 1787, Sheridan moved the third charge,

touching the begums of Oude, in a speech which was pronounced the

most brilliant ever delivered in the House of Commons. The

majority against Hastings was on this occasion increased to one

hundred and seven, Pitt, as before, supporting the motion. Other

charges of oppression and corruption were then gone into and

affirmed, and in May, by order of the House, Burke formally

impeached Warren Hastings of high crimes and misdemeanours at the

bar of the House of Lords. The accused was admitted to bail,

himself in 20,000 pounds, and two sureties in 10,000 pounds each.

The Committee of Management, elected by the Commons to conduct

the impeachment, included Burke and Fox, Sheridan and Windham,

and the trial was opened before the Lords, in Westminster Hall,

on the 13th of February, 1788.

After two days occupied in reading the charges and the

defendant's replies, Burke arose and opened the case for the

prosecution in a speech full of eloquent exaggeration and

honourable

Page 94

zeal in the cause of an oppressed people. He spoke during days,

after which the Benares charge was brought forward by Fox and

Grey (afterwards Earl Grey), the youngest of the managers, and

that relating to the Begums by Adam and Sheridan. The court then

adjourned to the next session. But it is unnecessary here to

follow the details of this famous trial which "dragged its slow

length along" for seven years. In the spring of 1795 Hastings

was acquitted, by a large majority, on all counts; and, although

his conduct had, in some particulars, been far from faultless,

and the sincerity of his principal accusers was beyond question,

his acquittal must be owned as just as it was honourable,

especially when we remember that his action had been entirely

uninfluenced by considerations of private advantage, that he had

endured for so many anxious years the burden of an impeachment,

that he was ruined in fortune by the expenses of the trial, and

that his great services to his country had been left wholly

without reward.

His poverty, however, was relieved by the Directors of the East

India Company, who bestowed upon him a pension of 4,000 a year,

and he passed the remainder of his long life in honourable

retirement. He died in 1818, his wife, to whom he was always

devotedly attached, surviving him by a few Years.

The following section contains little besides the account of

Fanny's visits to Westminster Hall during the early days of the

trial. One other event, however, it relates, of sorrowful

significance to the diarist. By the death of Mrs. Delany, on the

11th of April, 17; she lost at once a dear and venerated friend,

and her only occasional refuge from the odious tyranny of Court

routine.-ED.]

Page 95

WESTMINSTER HALL AT THE OPENING OF THE HASTINGS TRIAL.

February 13th.

O what an interesting transaction does this day open! a day,

indeed, of strong emotion to me, though all upon matters foreign

to any immediate concern of my own--if anything may be called

foreign that deeply interests us, merely because it is not

personal.

The trial, so long impending, of Mr. Hastings, opened to-day.

The queen yesterday asked me if I wished to be present at the

beginning, or had rather take another day. I was greatly obliged

by her condescension, and preferred the opening. I thought it

would give me a general view of the court, and the manner of

proceeding, and that I might read hereafter the speeches and

evidence. She then told me she had six tickets from Sir Peter

Burrell, the grand chamberlain, for every day; that three were

for his box, and three for his gallery. She asked me who I would

go with, and promised me a box-ticket not only for myself, but my

companion. Nor was this consideration all she showed me for she

added, that as I might naturally wish for my father, she would

have me send him my other ticket.

I thanked her very gratefully, and after dinner went to St.

Martin's-street; but all there was embarrassing: my father could

not go; he was averse to be present at the trial, and he was a

little lame from a fall. In the end I sent an express to

Hammersmith, to desire Charles(262) to come to me the next

morning by eight o'clock. I was very sorry not to have my

father, as he had been named by the queen; but I was glad to have

Charles.

I told her majesty at night the step I had ventured to take, and

she was perfectly content with it. "But I must trouble you," she

said, "with Miss Gomme, who has no other way to go."

This morning the queen dispensed with all attendance from me

after her first dressing, that I might haste away. Mrs.

Schwellenberg was fortunately well enough to take the whole duty,

and the sweet queen not only hurried me off, but sent me some

cakes from her own breakfast-table, that I might

Page 96

carry them, in my pocket, lest I should have no time for eating

before I went.

Charles was not in time, but we all did well in the end We got to

Westminster Hall between nine and ten O'clock; and, as I know my

dear Susan, like my-self, was never at a trial, I will

give some account of the place and arrangements'; and whether the

description be new to her or old, my partial Fredy will not blame

it.

The grand chamberlain's box Is in the centre of the upper end of

the Hall: there we sat, Miss Gomme and myself, immediately behind

the chair placed for Sir Peter Burrell. To the left, on the same

level, were the green benches for the House of Commons, which

occupied a third of the upper end of the Hall, and the whole of

the left side: to the right of us, on the same level, was the

grand chamberlain's gallery.

The right side of the Hall, opposite to the green benches for the

commons, was appropriated to the peeresses and peers' daughters.

The bottom of the Hall contained the royal family's box and the

lord high steward's, above which was a large gallery appointed

for receiving company with peers' tickets.

A gallery also was run along the left side of the Hall, above the

green benches, which is called the Duke of Newcastle's box, the

centre of which was railed off into a separate apartment for the

reception of the queen and four eldest princesses, who were then

incog., not choosing to appear in state, and in their own box.

Along the right side of the Hall ran another gallery, over the

seats of the peeresses, and this was divided into boxes for

various people--the lord chamberlain, (not the great

chamberlain,) the surveyor, architect, etc.

So much for all the raised buildings ; now for the disposition of

the Hall itself, or ground. In the middle was placed a large

table, and at the head of it the seat for the chancellor, and

round it seats for the judges, the masters in chancery, the

clerks, and all who belonged to the law; the upper end, and the

right side of the room, was allotted to the peers in their robes;

the left side to the bishops and archbishops.

Immediately below the great chamberlain's box was the place

allotted for the prisoner. On his right side was a box for his

own counsel, on his left the box for the managers, or committee,

for the prosecution; and these three most important of all the

divisions in the Hall were all directly adjoining to where I was

seated.

Almost the moment I entered I was spoken to by a lady I

Page 97

did not recollect, but found afterwards to be Lady Claremont and

this proved very agreeable, for she took Sir Peter's place: and

said she would occupy it till he claimed it; and then, when just

before me, she named to me all the order of the buildings, and

all the company, pointing out every distinguished person, and

most obligingly desiring me to ask her any questions I wanted to

have solved, as she knew, she said, "all those creatures that

filled the green benches, looking so little like gentlemen, and

so much like hair-dressers," These were the Commons. In truth,

she did the honours of the Hall to me with as much good nature

and good breeding as if I had been a foreigner of distinction, to

whom she had dedicated her time and attention. My acquaintance

with her had been made formerly at Mrs. Vesey's.

The business did not begin till near twelve o'clock. The opening

to the whole then took place, by the entrance of the managers of

the prosecution; all the company were already long in their boxes

or galleries. I shuddered, and drew Involuntarily back, when, as

the doors were flung open, I saw Mr. Burke, as head of the

committee, make his solemn entry. He held a scroll in his hand,

and walked alone, his brow knit with corroding care and deep

labouring thought,---a brow how different to that which had

proved so alluring to my warmest admiration when first I met him!

so highly as he had been my favourite, so captivating as I had

found his manners; and conversation in our first acquaintance,

and so much as I had owed to his zeal and kindness to me and my

affairs in its progress! How did I grieve to behold him now the

cruel prosecutor (such to me he appeared) of an injured and

innocent man!

Mr. Fox followed next, Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Windham, Messrs.

Anstruther, Grey, Adam, Michael Angelo Taylor, Pelham, Colonel

North, Mr. Frederick Montagu, Sir Gilbert Elliot, General

Burgoyne, Dudley Long, etc. They were all named over to me by

Lady Claremont, or I should not have recollected even those of my

acquaintance, from the shortness of my sight,

When the committee box was filled the House of Commons at large

took their seats on their green benches, which stretched, as I

have said, along the whole left side of the Hall, and, taking in

a third of the upper end, joined to the great Chamberlain's box,

from which nothing separated them but a Partition of about two

feet in height.

Then began the procession, the clerks entering first, then

Page 98

the lawyers according to their rank, and the peers, bishops, and

officers, all in their coronation robes; concluding with the

princes of the blood,--Prince William, son to the Duke of

Gloucester, coming first, then the Dukes of Cumberland,

Gloucester, and York, then the Prince of Wales; and the whole

ending by the chancellor, with his train borne. They then all

took their seats.

WARREN HASTINGS APPEARS AT THE BAR.

A sergeant-at- arms arose, and commanded silence in court, on

pain of imprisonment. Then some other officer, in a loud voice,

called out, as well as I can recollect, words to this purpose:--

"Warren Hastings, esquire, come forth! Answer to the charges

brought against you; save your bail, or forfeit your

recognizance."

Indeed I trembled at these words, and hardly Could

keep my place when I found Mr. Hastings was being brought to the

bar. He came forth from some place immediately under the great

chamberlain's box, and was preceded by Sir Francis Molyneux,

gentleman-usher of the black rod; and at each side of him walked

his bail, Messrs. Sulivan and Sumner.

The moment he came in sight, which was not for full ten minutes

after his awful summons, he made a low bow to the chancellor and

court facing him. I saw not his face, as he was directly under

me. He moved on slowly, and, I think, supported between his two

bails, to the opening of his own box; there, lower still, he

bowed again; and then, advancing to the bar, he leant his hands

upon it, and dropped on his knees; but a voice in the same minute

proclaiming he had leave to rise, he stood up almost

instantaneously, and a third time, profoundly bowed to the court.

What an awful moment this for such a man!--a man fallen from such

height of power to a situation so humiliating--from the almost

unlimited command of so large a part of the eastern World to be

cast at the feet of his enemies, of the great tribunal of his

country, and of the nation at large, assembled thus in a body to

try and to judge him! Could even his prosecutors at that moment

look on--and not shudder at least, if they did not blush?

The crier, I think it was, made, in a loud and hollow voice, a

public proclamation, "That Warren Hastings, esquire, late

governor-general of Bengal, was now on his trial for high

Page 99

crimes and misdemeanours, with which he was charged by the

commons of Great Britain; and that all persons whatsoever who had

aught to allege against him were now to stand forth."

A general silence followed, and the chancellor, Lord Thurlow, now

made his speech. I will give it you to the best of my power from

memory; the newspapers have printed it far less accurately than I

have retained it, though I am by no means exact or secure.

THE LORD CHANCELLOR'S SPEECH.

Warren Hastings, you are now brought into this court to answer to

the charge, brought against you by the knights, esquires,

burgesses, and commons of Great Britain--charges now standing

only as allegations, by them to be legally proved, or by you to

be disproved. Bring forth your answer and defence, with that

seriousness, respect, and truth, due to accusers so respectable.

Time has been allowed you for preparation, proportioned to the

intricacies in which the transactions are involved, and to the

remote distances whence your documents may have been searched and

required. You will be allowed bail, for the better forwarding

your defence, and-whatever you can require will still be yours,

of time, witnesses, and all things else you may hold necessary.

This is not granted you as any indulgence: it is entirely your

due: it is the privilege which every British subject has a right

to claim, and which is due to every one who is brought before

this high tribunal."

This speech, uttered in a calm, equal, solemn manner, and in a

voice mellow and penetrating, with eyes keen and black, yet

softened into some degree of tenderness while fastened full upon

the prisoner--this speech, its occasion, its portent, and its

object, had an effect upon every hearer of producing the most

respectful attention, and, out of the committee box at least, the

strongest emotions in the cause of Mr. Hastings. Again Mr.

Hastings made the lowest reverence to the court, and, leaning

over the bar answered, with much agitation, through evident

efforts to suppress it, "My lords --Impressed--deeply impressed--

I come before your lordships, equally confident in my own

integrity, and in the justice of the court before which I am to

clear it."

"Impressed" and "deeply impressed," too, was my mind, by this

short yet comprehensive speech, and all my best wishes

Page 100

for his clearance and redress rose warmer than ever in my heart.

THE READING OF THE CHARGES COMMENCED.

A general silence again ensued, and then one of the lawyers

opened the cause. He began by reading from an immense roll of

parchment the general charges against Mr. Hastings, but he read

in so monotonous a chant that nothing more could I hear or

understand than now and then the name of Warren Hastings.

During this reading, to which I vainly lent all my attention, Mr.

Hastings, finding it, I presume, equally impossible to hear a

word, began to cast his eyes around the house, and having taken a

survey of all in front and at the sides, he turned about and

looked up; pale looked his face--pale, ill, and altered. I was

much affected by the sight of that dreadful harass which

was written on his countenance. Had I looked at him without

restraint, it could not have been without tears. I felt shocked,

too, shocked and ashamed, to be seen by him in that place. I had

wished to be present from an earnest interest in the business,

joined to a firm confidence in his powers of defence; but his

eyes were not those I wished to meet in Westminster Hall. I

called upon Miss Gomme and Charles to assist me in looking

another way, and in conversing with me as I turned aside, and I

kept as much aloof as possible till he had taken his survey, and

placed himself again in front.

>From this time, however, he frequently looked round, and I was

soon without a doubt that he must see me. . . . In a few minutes

more, while this reading was still continued, I perceived Sir

Joshua Reynolds in the midst of the committee. He, at the same

moment, saw me also, and not only bowed, but smiled and nodded

with his usual good-humour and

intimacy, making at the same time a sign to his ear, by which I

understood he had no trumpet; whether he had forgotten or lost it

I know not.

I would rather have answered all this dumb show anywhere else, as

my last ambition was that of being noticed from such a box. I

again entreated aid in turning away; but Miss Gomme, who is a

friend of Sir Gilbert Elliot, one of the managers and an

ill-wisher, for his sake, to the opposite cause, would only

laugh, and ask why I should not be owned by them.

I did not, however, like it, but had no choice from my near

Page 101

situation; and in a few seconds I had again a bow, and a

profound one, and again very ridiculously I was obliged to

inquire of Lady Claremont who my own acquaintance might be. Mr.

Richard Burke, senior, she answered. He is a brother of the

great--great in defiance of all drawbacks--Edmund Burke.

Another lawyer now arose, and read so exactly in the same manner,

that it was utterly impossible to discover even whether it was a

charge or an answer. Such reading as this, you may well suppose,

set every body pretty much at their ease and but for the interest

I took in looking from time to time at Mr. Hastings, and watching

his countenance, I might as well have been away. He seemed

composed after the first half-hour, and calm; but he looked with

a species of indignant contempt towards his accusers, that could

not, I think, have been worn had his defence been doubtful. Many

there are who fear for him; for me, I own myself wholly confident

in his acquittal.

AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.

Soon after, a voice just by my side, from the green benches,

said, "Will Miss Burney allow me to renew my acquaintance with

her?" I turned about and saw Mr. Crutchley.

All Streatham rose to my mind at sight of him. I have never

beheld him since the Streatham society was abolished. We entered

instantly upon the subject of that family, a Subject ever to me

the most Interesting. He also had never seen poor Mrs. Thrale

since her return to England; but he joined with me very earnestly

in agreeing that, since so unhappy a step

was now past recall, it became the duty, however painful a one,

of the daughters, to support, not cast off and contemn, one who

was now as much their mother as when she still bore their own

name.

"But how," cried he, "do you stand the fiery trial of this

Streatham book that is coming upon us?"

I acknowledged myself very uneasy about it, and he assured me all

who had ever been at Streatham were in fright and consternation.

We talked all these matters over more at length, till I was

called away by an "How d'ye do, Miss Burney?" from the committee

box! And then I saw young Mr. Burke, who had jumped up on the

nearest form to speak to me.

Pleasant enough! I checked my vexation as well as I was able,

since the least shyness on my part to those with whom

Page 102

formerly I had been social must instantly have been attributed to

Court influence; and therefore, since I could not avoid the

notice, I did what I could to talk with him as heretofore. He is

besides so amiable a young man that I could not be sorry to see

him again, though I regretted it should be Just In that place,

and at this time.

While we talked together, Mr. Crutchley went back to his more

distant seat, and the moment I was able to withdraw from young

Mr. Burke, Charles, who sat behind me, leant down and told me a

gentleman had just desired to be presented to me.

"Who?" quoth I.

" Mr. Windham," he answered.

I really thought he was laughing, and answered accordingly, but

he assured me he was in earnest, and that Mr. Windham had begged

him to make the proposition. What could I do? There was no

refusing; yet a planned meeting with another of the committee,

and one deep in the prosecution, and from whom one of the hardest

charges has come(263)--could anything be less pleasant as I was

then situated? The great chamberlain's box is the only part of

the Hall that has any communication with either the committee box

or the House of Commons, and it is also the very nearest to the

prisoner.

WILLIAM WINDHAM) ESQ., M.P.

Mr. Windham I had seen twice before-both times at Miss

Monckton's; and anywhere else I should have been much gratified

by his desire of a third meeting, as he is one of the most

agreeable, spirited, well-bred, and brilliant conversers I have

ever spoken with. He is a neighbour, too, now, of

Page 103

Charlotte's. He is member for Norwich, and a man of family and

fortune, with a very pleasing though not handsome face, a very

elegant figure, and an air of fashion and vivacity.

The conversations I had had with him at Miss Monckton's had been,

wholly- by his own means, extremely spirited and entertaining. I

was sorry to see him make one of a set that appeared so

inveterate against a man I believe so injuriously treated; and my

concern was founded upon the good thoughts I had conceived of

him, not merely from his social talents, which are yet very

uncommon, but from a reason clearer to my remembrance. He loved

Dr. Johnson,-and Dr. Johnson returned his affection. Their

political principles and connexions were opposite, but Mr.

Windham respected his venerable friend too highly to discuss any

points that could offend him ; and showed for him so true a

regard, that, during all his late illnesses, for the latter part

of his life, his carriage and himself were alike at his service,

to air, visit, or go out, whenever he was disposed to accept

them.

Nor was this all; one tender proof he gave of warm and generous

regard, that I can never forget, and that rose instantly to my

mind when I heard his name, and gave him a welcome in my eyes

when they met his face : it is this: Dr. Johnson, in his last

visit to Lichfield, was taken ill, and waited to recover strength

for travelling back to town in his usual vehicle, a stage-coach--

as soon as this reached the ears of Mr. Windham, he set off for

Lichfield in his own carriage, to offer to bring hint back to

town in it, and at his own time.

For a young man of fashion, such a trait towards an old, however

dignified philosopher, must surely be a mark indisputable of an

elevated mind and character; and still the more strongly it

marked a noble way of thinking, as it was done in favour of a

person in open opposition to his own party, and declared

prejudices.

Charles soon told me he was it my elbow. He had taken the place

Mr. Crutchley had just left. The abord was, oil my , part, very

awkward, from the distress I felt lest Mr. Hastings should look

up, and from a conviction that I must not name

Page 104

that gentleman, of whom alone I could then think, to a person in

a committee against him.

He, however, was easy, having no embarrassing thoughts, since the

conference was of his own seeking. 'Twas so long since I had

seen him, that I almost wonder he remembered me. After the first

compliments he looked around him, and exclaimed "What an assembly

is this! How striking a spectacle! I had not seen half its

splendour down there. You have it here to great advantage; you

lose some of the lords, but you gain all the ladies. You have a

very good place here,"

"Yes and I may safely say I make a very impartial use of it for

since here I have sat, I have never discovered to which side I

have been listening!"

He laughed, but told me they were then running through the

charges.

"And is it essential," cried I, "that they should so run them

through that nobody can understand them? Is that a form of law?"

He agreed to the absurdity - and then, looking still at the

spectacle, which indeed is the most splendid I ever saw, arrested

his eyes upon the chancellor.

"He looks very well from hence," cried he; "and how well he

acquits himself on these solemn occasions! With what dignity,

what loftiness, what high propriety, he comports himself!"

This praise to the chancellor, who is a known friend to Mr.

Hastings, though I believe he would be the last to favour him

unjustly now he is on trial, was a pleasant sound to my ear, and

confirmed my original idea of the liberal disposition of my new

associate. i joined heartily in the commendation, and warmly

praised his speech.

"Even a degree of pompousness," cried I, "in such a court as

this, seems a propriety."

"Yes," said he "but his speech had one word that might as well

have been let alone: 'mere allegations' he called the charges;

the word 'mere,' at least, might have been spared, especially as

it is already strongly suspected on which side he leans!"

I protested, and with truth, I had not heard the word in his

speech; but he still affirmed it.

"Surely," I said, "he was as fair and impartial as possible: he

called the accusers 'so respectable!'"

"Yes, but 'mere--mere' was no word for this occasion and it could

not be unguarded, for he would never come to

Page 105

speak in such a court as this, without some little thinking

beforehand. However, he is a fine fellow,--a very fine fellow!

and though, in his private life, guilty of so many inaccuracies,

in his public capacity I really hold him to be unexceptionable."

This fairness, from an oppositionist professed, brought me at

once to easy terms with him. I begged him to inform me for what

reason, at the end of the chancellor's speech, there had been a

cry of "Hear! hear! hear him!" which had led me to expect another

speech, when I found no other seemed intended. He laughed very

much, and confessed that, as a parliament man, he was so used to

that absurdity, that he had ceased to regard it; for that it was

merely a mark of approbation to a speech already spoken; "And, in

fact, they only," cried he, "say 'Hear!' when there is nothing

more to be heard!" Then, still looking at the scene before him,

he suddenly laughed, and said, "I must not, to Miss Burney, make

this remark, but-it is observable that in the king's box sit the

Hawkesbury family, while, next to the Speaker, who is here as a

sort of representative of the king, sits Major Scott!"

I knew his inference, of Court influence in favour of Mr.

Hastings, but I thought it best to let it pass quietly. I knew,

else, I should only be supposed under the same influence myself.

Looking still on, he next noticed the two archbishops. "And see,"

cried he, "the Archbishop of York, Markham,--see how he affects

to read the articles of impeachment, as if he was still open to

either side! My good lord archbishop! your grace might, with

perfect safety, spare your eyes, for your mind has been made up

upon this subject before ever it was investigated. He holds

Hastings to be the greatest man in the world--for Hastings

promoted the interest of his son in the East Indies!"

WINDHAM INVEIGHS AGAINST WARREN HASTINGS.

Somewhat sarcastic, this - but I had as little time as power for

answering, since now, and suddenly, his eye dropped down upon

poor Mr. Hastings; the expression of his face instantly lost the

gaiety and ease with which it had addressed me; he stopped short

in his remarks; he fixed his eyes steadfastly on this new, and

but too interesting object, and after viewing him

106

some time in a sort of earnest silence, he suddenly exclaimed as

if speaking to himself, and from an impulse irresistible

"What a sight is that! to see that man, that small portion of

human clay, that poor feeble machine of earth, enclosed now in

that little space, brought to that bar, a prisoner in a spot six

foot square--and to reflect on his late power! Nations at his

command! Princes prostrate at his feet!--What a change! how Must

he feel it!--"

He stopped, and I said not a word. I was glad to see him thus

impressed; I hoped it might soften his enmity. I found, by his

manner, that he had never, from the committee box, looked at him.

He broke forth again, after a pause of Some length,--"Wonderful

indeed! almost past credibility, is such a reverse! He that, so

lately, had the Eastern world nearly at his beck; he, under whose

tyrant power princes and potentates sunk and trembled; he, whose

authority was without the reach of responsibility!--"

Again he stopped, seeming struck, almost beyond the power of

speech, with meditative commiseration ; but then, suddenly

rousing himself, as if recollecting his "almost blunted purpose,"

he passionately exclaimed, "Oh could those--the thousands, the

millions, who have groaned and languished under the iron rod of

his oppressions- -could they but--whatever region they inhabit--

be permitted one dawn of light to look into this Hall, and see

him there! There--where he now stands--It might prove, perhaps,

some recompense for their sufferings!"

I can hardly tell you, my dearest Susan, how shocked I felt at

these words! words so hard, and following sensations so much more

pitying and philosophic! I cannot believe Mr. Hastings guilty; I

feel in myself a strong internal evidence of his innocence, drawn

from all I have seen of him; I can only regard the prosecution as

a party affair; but yet, since his adversaries now openly stake

their names, fame, and character against him, I did not think it

decent to intrude such an opinion. I could only be sorry, and

silent.

Still he looked at him, earnest in rumination, and as if unable

to turn away his eyes; and presently he again exclaimed, "How

wonderful an instance of the instability of mortal power is

presented ]In that object! From possessions so extensive, from a

despotism so uncontrolled. to see him, now there, in that small

circumference! In the history Of human nature how memorable will

be the records of this day!

Page 107

a day that brings to the great tribunal of the nation a man whose

power, so short a time since, was of equal magnitude with his

crimes!"

Good heaven! thought I, and do you really believe all this? Can

Mr. Hastings appear to you such a monster? and are you not merely

swayed by party? I could not hear him without shuddering, nor see

him thus in earnest without alarm. I thought myself no longer

bound to silence, since I saw, by the continuance as well as by

the freedom of his exclamations, he conceived me of the same

sentiments with himself; and therefore I hardily resolved to make

known to him that mistake, which, indeed, was a liberty that

seemed no longer impertinent, but a mere act of justice and

honesty.

His very expressive pause, his eyes still steadfastly fixed on

Mr. Hastings, gave me ample opportunity for speaking - though I

had some little difficulty how to get out what I wished to say.

However, in the midst of his reverie, I broke forth, but not

without great hesitation, and, very humbly, I said, "Could you

pardon me, Mr. Windham, If I should forget, for a moment, that

you are a committee man, and speak to you frankly?"

He looked surprised, but laughed at the question, and very

eagerly called out "Oh yes, yes, pray speak out, I beg it!"

"Well, then, may I venture to say to you that I believe it

utterly impossible for any one, not particularly engaged on the

contrary side, ever to enter a court of justice, and not

instantly, and involuntarily, wish well to the prisoner!"

His surprise subsided by this general speech, which I had not

courage to put in a more pointed way, and he very readily

answered, "'Tis natural, certainly, and what must almost

unavoidably be the first impulse; yet, where justice--"

I stopped him; I saw I was not comprehended, and thought else he

might say something to stop me.

"May I," I said, " go yet a little farther ?

"Yes," cried he, with a very civil smile, "and I feel an assent

beforehand."

" Supposing then, that even you, if that may be supposed, could

be divested of all knowledge of the particulars of this affair,

and in the same state of general Ignorance that I confess myself

to be, and could then, like me, have seen Mr. Hastings make his

entrance into this court, and looked at him when he was brought

to that bar; not even you, Mr. Windham, could then have reflected

on such a vicissitude for him, on all he has

Page 108

left and all he has lost, and not have given him, like me, all

your best wishes the moment you beheld him."

The promised assent came not, though he was too civil to

contradict me ; but still I saw he Understood me only in a

general sense. I feared going farther : a weak advocate is apt

to be a mischievous one and, as I knew nothing, it was not to a

professed enemy I could talk of what I only believed.

Recovering, now, from the strong emotion with which the sight of

Mr. Hastings had filled him, he looked again around the court,

and pointed out several of the principal characters present, with

arch and striking remarks upon each of them, all uttered with

high spirit, but none with ill-nature.

("Pitt," cried he, "is not here!--a noble stroke that for the

annals of his administration! A trial is brought on by the whole

House of Commons In a body, and he is absent at the very opening!

However," added he, with a very meaning laugh, "I'm glad of it,

for 'tis to his eternal disgrace!"

Mercy! thought I, what a friend to kindness Is party!

"Do you see Scott?" cried he.

"No, I never saw him; pray show him to me,"

"There he is, in green; just now by the Speaker, now moved by the

committee; in two minutes more he will be somewhere else,

skipping backwards and forwards; what a grasshopper it is!"

"I cannot look at him," cried I, "without recollecting a very

extraordinary letter from him, that I read last summer in the

newspaper, where he answers some attack that he says has been

made upon him, because the term is used of 'a very insignificant

fellow,' and he printed two or three letters in 'The Public

Advertiser,' in following days, to prove, with great care and

pains, that he knew it was all meant as an abuse of himself, from

those words!"

"And what," cried he, laughing, "do you say to that notion now

you see him?"

"That no one," cried I, examining him with my glass, "can

possibly dispute his claim!"

What 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 foes and friends, that to his officious and

injudicious zeal the present prosecution is wholly owing.

Next, Mr. Windham pointed out Mr. Francis to me. 'TIS a singular

circumstance, that the friend who most loves and the enemy Who

most hates Mr. Hastings should bear the same

Page 109

name!(264) Mr. Windham, with all the bias of party, gave me then

the highest character of this Mr. Francis, whom he called one of

the most ill-used of men. Want of documents how to answer forced

me to be silent, oppositely as I thought. But it was a very

unpleasant situation to me, as I saw that Mr. Windham still

conceived me to have no other interest than a common, and

probably to his mind, a weak compassion for the prisoner--that

prisoner who, frequently looking around, saw me, I am certain,

and saw with whom I was engaged.

The subject of Mr. Francis again drew him back to Mr. Hastings,

but with more severity of mind. "A prouder heart," cried he, "an

ambition more profound, were never, I suppose, lodged in any

mortal mould than in that man! With what a port he entered! did

you observe him? his air! I saw not his face, but his air his

port!"

"Surely there," cried I, "he could not be to blame! He comes upon

his defence; ought he to look as if he gave himself up?"

"Why no; 'tis true he must look what vindication to himself he

can; we must not blame him there."

Encouraged by this little concession, I resolved to venture

farther, and once more said "May I again, Mr. Windham, forget

that you are a committee-man, and say something not fit for a

committee man to hear?"

"O yes!" cried he, laughing very much, and looking extremely

curious.

"I must fairly, then, own myself utterly ignorant upon this

subject, and--and--may I go on?"

"I beg you will!"

"Well, then,--and originally prepossessed in favour of the

object!"

He quite started, and with a look of surprise from which all

pleasure was separated, exclaimed--"Indeed!"

"Yes!" cried I, "'tis really true, and really out, now!"

"For Mr. Hastings, prepossessed!" he repeated, in a tone that

seemed to say--do you not mean Mr. Burke?

Page 110

"Yes," I said, "for Mr. Hastings! But I should not have presumed

to own it just at this time,--so little as I am able to do honour

to my prepossession by any materials to defend it,--but that you

have given me courage, by appearing so free from all malignity in

the business. Tis, therefore, Your own fault!"

"But can you speak seriously," cried he, " "when You say you know

nothing of this business?"

"Very seriously: I never entered into it at all; it was always

too intricate to tempt me."

"But, surely you must have read the charges?"

"No; they are so long, I had never the courage to begin."

The conscious look with which he heard this, brought--all too

late--to my remembrance, that one of them was drawn up, and

delivered in the House, by himself! I was really very sorry to

have been so unfortunate; but I had no way to call back the

words, so was quiet, perforce.

"Come then," cried he, emphatically, "to hear Burke! come and

listen to him, and you will be mistress of the whole. Hear

Burke, and read the charges of the Begums, and then you will form

your judgment without difficulty."

I would rather (thought I) hear him upon any other subject: but I

made no answer; I only said, "Certainly, I can gain nothing by

what is going forward to-day. I meant to come to the opening

now, but it seems rather like the shutting up!"

He was not to be put off. "You will come, however, to hear

Burke? To hear truth, reason, justice, eloquence! You will then

see, in other colours, 'That man!' There is more cruelty, more

oppression, more tyranny, in that little machine, with an

arrogance, a self-confidence, unexampled, unheard of!"

MISS BURNEY BATTLES FOR THE ACCUSED.

"Indeed, sir!" cried I; "that does not appear, to those who know

him and--I--know him a little."

"Do you?" cried he earnestly; "personally, do you know him?"

"Yes; and from that knowledge arose this prepossession I have

confessed."

"Indeed, what you have seen of him have you then so much

approved?"

"Yes, very much! I must own the truth!"

"But you have not seen much of him?"

Page 111

"No, not lately. My first knowledge of him was almost

immediately upon his coming from India; I had heard nothing of

all these accusations; I had never been in the way of hearing

them, and knew not even that there were any to be heard. I saw

him, therefore, quite without prejudice, for or against him ; and

indeed, I must own, he soon gave me a strong interest in his

favour."

The surprise with which he heard me must have silenced me on the

subject, had it not been accompanied with an attention so earnest

as to encourage me still to proceed. It is evident to me that

this committee live so much shut Lip with one another, that they

conclude all the world of the same opinions with themselves, and

universally imagine that the tyrant they think themselves

pursuing is a monster in every part of his life, and held in

contempt and abhorrence by all mankind. Could I then be sorry,

seeing this, to contribute my small mite towards clearing, at

least, so very wide a mistake? On the contrary, when I saw he

listened, I was most eager to give him all I could to hear,

"I found him," I continued, "so mild, so gentle, so extremely

pleasing in his manners--"

"Gentle!" cried he, with quickness.

"Yes, Indeed; gentle even to humility--"

"Humility? Mr. Hastings and humility!"

"Indeed it is true; he is perfectly diffident in the whole of his

manner, when engaged in conversation; and so much struck was I,

at that very time, by seeing him so simple, so unassuming, when

just returned from a government that had accustomed him to a

power superior to our monarchs here, that it produced an effect

upon my mind in his favour which nothing can erase!"

"Yes, Yes!" cried he, with great energy, "you will give it up!

you must lose it, must give it up! it will be plucked away,

rooted wholly out of your mind ."

"Indeed, sir," cried I, steadily, "I believe not!"

"You believe not?" repeated he, with added animation; "then there

will be the more glory in making you a convert!"

If "conversion" is the word, thought I, I would rather make than

be made.

"But --Mr. Windham," cried I, "all my amazement now is at your

condescension in speaking to me upon this business at all, when I

have confessed to you my total ignorance of the subject, and my

original prepossession in favour of the object. Why

Page 112

do you not ask me when I was at the play ? and how I liked the

last opera?"

He laughed; and we talked on a little while in that strain, till

again, suddenly fixing his eyes on poor Mr. Hastings, his gaiety

once more vanished, and he gravely and severely examined his

countenance. "'Tis surely," cried he, "an unpleasant one. He

does not know, I suppose, 'tis reckoned like his own!"

"How should he," cried I, "look otherwise than unpleasant here?"

"True," cried he; "yet still, I think, his features, his look,

his whole expression, unfavourable to him. I never saw him but

once before; that was at the bar of the House of Commons and

there, as Burke admirably said, he looked, when first he glanced

an eye against him, like a hungry tiger, ready to howl for his

prey!"

"Well," cried I, "I am sure he does not look fierce now!

Contemptuous, a little, I think he does look!"

I was sorry I used this word; yet its truth forced it to escape

me. He did not like it; he repeated it; he could not but be sure

the contempt could only be levelled at his prosecutors. I feared

discussion, and flew off as fast as I could, to softer ground.

"It was not," cried I, "with that countenance he gave me my

prepossession! Very differently, indeed, he looked then!"

"And can he ever look pleasant? can that face ever obtain an

expression that is pleasing?"

"Yes, indeed and in truth, very pleasant! It was in the country

I first saw him, and without any restraint on his part; I saw

him, therefore, perfectly natural and easy. And no one, let me

say, could so have seen him without being pleased with him--his

quietness and serenity, joined to his intelligence and

information--"

"His information?--in what way?"

"In such a way as suited his hearer: not upon committee

business--of all that I knew nothing. The only conversation in

which I could mix was upon India, considered simply as, a country

in which he had travelled; and his communications upon the

people, the customs, habits, cities, and whatever I could name,

were so instructive as well as entertaining, that I think I never

recollect gaining more intelligence, or more pleasantly conveyed,

from any conversation in which I ever have been engaged."

Page 113

To this he listened with an attention that, but for the secret

zeal which warmed me must have silenced and shamed me. I am

satisfied this committee have concluded Mr. Hastings a mere man

of blood, with slaughter and avarice for his sole ideas! The

surprise with which he heard this just testimony to his social

abilities was only silent from good-breeding, but his eyes

expressed what his tongue withheld; something that satisfied me

he concluded

I had undesignedly been duped by him. I answered this silence by

saying "There was no object for hypocrisy, for it was quite in

retirement I met with him : it was not lately ; it is near two

years since I have seen him; he had therefore no point to gain

with me, nor was there any public character, nor any person

whatever, that Could induce him to act a part; yet was he all I

have said-informing, Communicative, instructive, and at the same

time, gentle and highly pleasing."

"Well," said he, very civilly, "I begin the less to wonder, now,

that You have adhered to his side; but--"

"To see him, then," cried I, stopping his 'but,'--"to see him

brought to that bar! and kneeling at it!--indeed, Mr. Windham, I

must own to you, I could hardly keep my seat--hardly forbear

rising and running out of the Hall."

"Why, there," cried he, "I agree with you! 'Tis certainly a

humiliation not to be wished or defended: it is, indeed, a mere

ceremony, a mere formality; but it is a mortifying one, and so

obsolete, so unlike the practices of the times, so repugnant from

a gentleman to a gentleman, that I myself

looked another way: it hurt me, and I wished it dispensed with."

"O, Mr. Windham," cried I, surprised and pleased, "and can you be

so liberal?"

"Yes," cried he, laughing, "but 'tis only to take you in!"

Afterwards he asked what his coat was, whether blue Or purple;

and said, "is it not customary for a prisoner to come black?"

"Whether or not," quoth I, "I am heartily glad he has not done

it; why should he seem so dismal, so shut out from hope?"

"Why, I believe he is in the right. I think he has judged that

not ill."

"O, don't be so candid," cried I, "I beg you not."

"Yes, yes, I must; and you know the reason," cried he, gaily; but

presently exclaimed, "one unpleasant thing belong-

Page 114

ing to being a manager is that I must now go and show myself in

the committee."

And then he very civilly bowed, and went down to his box, leaving

me much persuaded that I had never yet been engaged in a

conversation so curious, from its circumstances, in my life. The

warm well-wisher myself of the prisoner, though formerly the

warmest admirer of his accuser, engaged, even at his trial and in

his presence, in so open a discussion with one of his principal

prosecutors; and the queen herself in full view, unavoidably

beholding me in close and eager conference with an avowed member

of the opposition!

These circumstances made me at first enter into discourse with

Mr. Windham with the utmost reluctance ; but though I wished to

shun him, I could not, when once attacked, decline to converse

with him. It would but injure the cause of Mr. Hastings to seem

to fear hearing the voice of his accusers; and it could but be

attributed to undue court-influence had I avoided any intercourse

with an acquaintance so long ago established as a member of the

opposition.

A WEARIED M.P.-MR. CRUTCHLEY REAPPEARS.

In the midst of the opening of a trial such as this, so important

to the country as well as to the individual who is tried, what

will you say to a man--a member of the House of Commons who kept

exclaiming almost perpetually, just at my side, "What a bore!-

-when will it be over?--Must one come any more?--I had a great

mind not to have come at all.--Who's that?--Lady Hawkesbury and

the Copes?--Yes.--A pretty girl, Kitty.--Well, when will they

have done?--I wish they'd call the question--I should vote it a

bore at once!

just such exclamations as these were repeated, without

intermission, till the gentleman departed: and who should it be

that spoke with so much legislative wisdom but Mr. W---!

In about two or three hours--this reading still lasting--Mr.

Crutchley came to me again. He, too, was so wearied, that he was

departing; but he stayed some time to talk over our constant

topic--my poor Mrs. Thrale. How little does he suspect the

interest I unceasingly take in her--the avidity with which I

seize every opportunity to gather the smallest intelligence

concerning her!

One little trait of Mr. Crutchley, so characteristic of that

queerness which distinguishes him, I must mention. He said

Page 115

he questioned whether he should comme any more: I told him I had

imagined the attendance of every member to be indispensable.

"No," cried he, "ten to one if another day they are able to make

a house!"

"The Lords, however, I suppose, must come?"

"Not unless they like it."

" But I hear if they do not attend they have no tickets."

"Why, then, Miss Primrose and Miss Cowslip must stay away too!"

I had the pleasure to find him entirely for Mr. Hastings, and to

hear he had constantly voted on his side through every stage of

the business. He is a very independent man, and a man of real

good character, and, with all his oddity, of real understanding.

We compared notes very amicably upon this subject, and both

agreed that those who looked for every flaw in the conduct of a

man in so high and hazardous a station, ought first to have

weighed his merits and his difficulties.

MR. WINDHAM DISCUSSES THE IMPEACHMENT.

A far more interesting conference, however, was now awaiting me.

Towards the close of the day Mr. Windham very unexpectedly came

again from the committee-box, and seated himself by my side. I

was glad to see by this second visit that my frankness had not

offended him. He began, too, in so open and social a manner,

that I was satisfied he forgave it.

"I have been," cried he, "very busy since I left you.--writing--

reading--making documents."

I saw he was much agitated ; the gaiety which seems natural to

him was flown, and had left in its place the most evident and

unquiet emotion. I looked a little surprised, and rallying

himself, in a few moments he inquired if I wished for any

refreshment, and proposed fetching me some. But, well as I liked

him for a conspirator, I could not break bread with him!

I thought now all was over of communication between us, but I was

mistaken. He spoke for a minute or two upon the crowd--early

hour of coming--hasty breakfasting and such general nothings; and

then, as if involuntarily, he returned to the sole subject on

his mind.

"Our plan," cried he, "is all changing: we have all been busy--we

are coming into a new method. I have been making preparations--I

did not intend speaking for a considerable time--not till after

the circuit, but now, I may be called upon, I know not how soon."

Page 116

Then he stopped--ruminating--and I let him ruminate without

interruption for some minutes, when he broke forth with these

reflections: "How strange, how infatuated a frailty has man with

respect to the future! Be our views, our designs, our

anticipations what they may, we are never prepared for it!--It

always takes us by surprise--always comes before we look for it!"

He stopped; but I waited his explanation without speaking, and,

after pausing thoughtfully for some time, he went on:

"This day--for which we have all been waiting so anxiously, so

earnestly--the day for which we have fought, for which we have

struggled--a day, indeed, of national glory, in bringing to this

great tribunal a delinquent from so high an office--this day, so

much wished, has seemed to me, to the last moment, so distant,

that now--now that it Is actually arrived, it takes me as if I

had never thought of it before--it comes upon me all unexpected,

and finds me unready!"

Still I said nothing, for I did not fully comprehend him, till he

added, "I will not be so affected as to say to you that I have

made no preparation--that I have not thought a little upon what I

have to do; yet now that the moment is actually come--"

Again he broke off. but a generous sentiment was, bursting from

him, and would not be withheld.

"It has brought me," he resumed, "a feeling of which I am not yet

quite the master! What I have said hitherto, when I have spoken

in the house, has been urged and stimulated by the idea of

pleading for the injured and the absent, and that gave me spirit.

Nor do I tell you (with a half-conscious smile) that the ardour

of the prosecution went for nothing--a prosecution in favour of

oppressed millions! But now,. when I am to speak here, the

thought of that man, close to my side--culprit as he is--that man

on whom all the odium is to fall--gives me, I own, a sensation

that almost disqualifies me beforehand!" . . .

"That this day was ever brought about," continued he, "must ever

remain a noble memorial of courage and perseverance in the

Commons. Every possible obstacle has been thrown in our way--

every art of government has been at work to impede us--nothing

has been left untried to obstruct us--every check and clog of

power and influence."

"Not by him," cried I, looking at poor Mr. Hastings; "he has

raised no impediments--he has been wholly careless."

Page 117

"Come," cried he, with energy, "come and hear Burke!--Come but

and hear him!--'tis an eloquence irresistible!--a torrent that

sweeps all before it with the force of a whirlwind! It will Cure

You, indeed, of your prepossession, but it will give you truth

and right in its place. What discoveries has he not made!--what

gulfs has he not dived into! Come and hear him, and your conflict

will end!"

I could hardly stand this, and, to turn it off', asked him if Mr.

Hastings was to make his own defence?

"No," he answered, "he will only speak by counsel. But do not

regret that, for his own sake, as he is not used to public

speaking, and has some impediment in his speech besides. He

writes wonderfully--there he shines--and with a facility quite

astonishing. Have you ever happened to see any of his writings?"

"No: only one short account, which he calls 'Memoirs relative to

some India transactions,' and that struck me to be extremely

unequal--in some places strong and finely expressed, In others

obscure and scarce intelligible."

"That is just the case--that ambiguity runs through him in

everything. Burke has found an admirable word for it in the

Persian tongue, for which we have no translation, but it means an

intricacy involved so deep as to be nearly unfathomable--an

artificial entanglement."

I inquired how it was all to end--whether this reading was to

continue incessantly, or any speaking was to follow it?

"I have not inquired how that is," he answered, "but I believe

you will now soon be released."

"And will the chancellor speak to adjourn?"

"I cannot tell what the form may be, or how we are to be

dissolved. I think myself there is nothing more difficult than

how to tell people they may go about their business. I remember,

when I was in the militia, it was just what I thought the most

awkward, when I had done with my men. Use gives one the habit;

and I found, afterwards, there was a regular mode for it: but, at

first, I found it very embarrassing how to get rid of them."

Nothing excites frankness like frankness ; and I answered him in

return with a case of my own. "When first I came to my present

residence I was perpetually," I said, "upon the point of making a

blunder with the queen; for when, after she had honoured me with

any conversation, she used to say 'Now I won't keep you--now I

will detain you no longer,' .

Page 118

I was always ready to answer, 'Ma'am, I am in no haste,- ma'am, I

don't wish to go!' for I was not, at first, aware that it was

only her mode of dismissing people from her presence."

WINDHAM AFFECTS TO COMMISERATE HASTINGS.

Again he was going: but glancing his eyes once more down upon Mr.

Hastings, he almost sighed--he fetched, at least, a deep breath,

while he exclaimed with strong emotion, "What a place for a man

to stand in to hear what he has to hear!--'tis almost too much!"

It would not be easy to tell you how touching at such a time was

the smallest concession from an avowed opponent, and I could not

help exclaiming again, "O, Mr. Windham, you must not be so

liberal!"

"O!" cried he, smiling, and recovering himself, "'tis all the

deeper malice, only to draw you in!"

Still, however, he did not go : he kept gazing upon Mr. Hastings

till he seemed almost fascinated to the spot; and presently

after, growing more and more open in his discourse, he began to

talk to me of Sir Elijah Impey. I presume my dearest friends,

little as they hear of politics and state business, must yet know

that the House of Commons is threatening Sir Elijah with an

impeachment, to succeed that of Mr. Hastings, and all upon East

India transactions of the same date.(265)

When he had given me his sentiments upon this subject, which I

had heard with that sort of quietness that results from total

ignorance of the matter, joined to total ignorance of the person

concerned, he drew a short comparison, which, nearly, from him,

and at such a moment, drew the tears from my eyes--nearly do I

say?--Indeed more than that!

"Sir Elijah," cried he, "knows how to go to work, and by getting

the lawyers to side with him professionally, has set

Page 119

about his defence in the most artful manner. He is not only

wicked, but a very pitiful fellow. Let him but escape fine or

imprisonment, and he will pocket all indignity, and hold himself

happy in getting off: but Hastings (again looking steadfastly at

him)--Hastings has feeling--'tis a proud feeling, an ambitious

feeling--but feeling he has! Hastings--come to him what may--

fine, imprisonment, whatsoever is inflicted--all will be nothing.

The moment of his punishment--I think it, upon my honour!--was

the moment that brought him to that bar!"

When he said "I think it, upon my honour," he laid his hand on

his breast, as if he implied, "I acquit him henceforward."

Poor Mr. Hastings! One generous enemy he has at least, who

pursues him with public hate, but without personal malignity! yet

sure I feel he can deserve neither!

I did not spare to express my sense of this liberality from a

foe; for, indeed, the situation I was in, and the sight of Mr.

Hastings, made it very affecting to me. He was affected too,

himself; but presently, rising, he said with great quickness, "I

must shake all. this off; I must have done with it--dismiss it--

forget that he is there."

"O, no," cried I, earnestly, "do not forget it!"

"Yes, yes; I must."

" No, remember it rather," cried I; "I could almost (putting up

my hands as if praying) do thus and then, like poor Mr. Hastings

just now to the house, drop down on my knees to you, to call out

'Remember it.'"

"Yes, Yes," cried he, precipitately, "how else shall I go on? I

must forget that he is there, and that you are here." And then

he hurried down to his committee.

Was it not a most singular scene ?

I had afterwards to relate great part of this to the queen

herself. She saw me engaged in such close discourse, and with

such apparent interest on both sides, with Mr. Windham, that I

knew she must else form conjectures innumerable. So candid, so

liberal is the mind of the queen, that she not only heard me with

the most favourable attention towards Mr. Windham, but was

herself touched even to tears by the relation.

We stayed but a short time after this last conference ; for

nothing more was attempted than reading on the charges and

answers, in the same useless manner,

120

MISS BURNEY IS AGAIN PRESENT AT HASTINGS'S TRIAL..

The interest of this trial was so much upon my mind, that I have

not kept even a memorandum of what passed from the 13th of

February to the day when I went again to Westminster Hall; nor,

except renewing the Friday Oratorios with Mrs. Ord, do I

recollect one circumstance.

The second time that the queen, who saw my wishes, indulged me

with one of her tickets, and a permission of absence for the

trial, was to hear Mr. Burke, for whom my curiosity and my

interest stood the highest. One ticket, however, would not do; I

could not go alone, and the queen had bestowed all her other'

tickets before she discovered that this was a day in my

particular wishes. She entered into my perplexity with a

sweetness the most gracious, and when I knew not how to obviate

it, commanded me to write to the Duchess of Ancaster, and beg

permission to be put under the wing of her grace, or any of her

friends that were going to the Hall.

The duchess, unluckily, did not go, from indisposition, nor any

of her family; but she sent me a very obliging letter, and

another ticket from Sir Peter Burrell, to use for a companion.

I fixed upon James, who, I knew, wished to hear Mr. Burke for

once, and we went together very comfortably. When the managers,

who, as before, made the first procession, by entering their box

below us, were all arranged, one from among them, whom I knew

not, came up into the seats of the House of Commons by our side,

and said, "Captain Burney, I am very glad to see you."

"How do you do, sir ?" answered James; "here I am, come to see

the fine show."

Upon this the attacker turned short upon his heel, and abruptly

walked away, descending into the box, which he did not quit any

more. I inquired who he was; General Burgoyne, James told me.

"A manager!" cried I, "and one of the chargers! and you treat the

business of the Hall with such contempt to his face!"

James laughed heartily at his own uncourtly address, but I would

not repent, though he acknowledged he saw the offence his slight

and slighting speech had given.

Fearful lest he should proceed in the same style with my friend

Mr. Windham, I kept as aloof as possible, to avoid his notice,

entreating James at the same time to have the complaisance to be

silent upon this subject, should he discover me

Page 121

and approach. My own sentiments were as opposite to those of the

managers as his, and I had not scrupled to avow honestly my

dissent; but I well knew Mr. Windham might bear, and even

respect, from a female, the same openness of opposition that

might be highly offensive to him from a man. But I could obtain

no positive promise; he would only compromise with my request,

and agree not to speak unless applied to first. This, however,

contented me, as Mr. Windham was too far embarked in his

undertaking to solicit any opinion upon it from accidentally

meeting any common acquaintance.

>From young Burke and his uncle Richard I had bows from the

committee box. Mr. Windham either saw me not, or was too much

engaged in business to ascend.

BURKE'.S SPEECH IN SUPPORT OF THE CHARGES.

At length the peers' procession closed, the prisoner was brought

in, and Mr. Burke began his speech. It was the second day of his

harangue;(266) the first I had not been able to attend.

The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay — Volume 2 · 第 3 / 13 章