(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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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-
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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.