He remained four years in England. Of his life at this time very little

is known. But it has been asserted, and is highly probable, that liberal

studies and the society of men of letters occupied a great part of his

time. It is to be remembered to his honor, that in days when the

languages of the East were regarded by other servants of the Company

merely as the means of communicating with weavers and money-changers,

his enlarged and accomplished mind sought in Asiatic learning for new

forms of intellectual enjoyment, and for new views of government and

society. Perhaps, like most persons who have paid much attention to

departments of knowledge which lie out of the common track, he was

inclined to overrate the value of his favorite studies. He conceived

that the cultivation of Persian literature might with advantage be made

a part of the liberal education of an English gentleman; and he drew up

a plan with that view. It is said that the University of Oxford, in

which Oriental learning had never, since the revival of letters, been

wholly neglected, was to be the seat of the institution which he

contemplated. An endowment was expected from the munificence of the

Company; and professors thoroughly competent to interpret Hafiz and

Ferdusi were to be engaged in the East. Hastings called on Johnson, with

the hope, as it should seem, of interesting in this project a man who

enjoyed the highest literary reputation, and who was particularly

connected with Oxford. The interview appears to have left on Johnson's

mind a most favorable impression of the talents and attainments of his

visitor. Long after, when Hastings was ruling the immense population of

British India, the old philosopher wrote to him, and referred in the

most courtly terms, though with great dignity, to their short but

agreeable intercourse.

Hastings soon began to look again towards India. He had little to attach

him to England; and his pecuniary embarrassments were great. He

solicited his old masters the Directors for employment. They acceded to

his request, with high compliments both to his abilities and to his

integrity, and appointed him a Member of Council at Madras. It would be

unjust not to mention that, though forced to borrow money for his

outfit, he did not withdraw any portion of the sum which he had

appropriated to the relief of his distressed relations. In the spring of

1769 he embarked on board of the Duke of Grafton, and commenced a voyage

distinguished by incidents which might furnish matter for a novel.

Among the passengers in the Duke of Grafton was a German of the name of

Imhoff. He called himself a baron; but he was in distressed

circumstances, and was going out to Madras as a portrait-painter, in the

hope of picking up some of the pagodas which were then lightly got and

as lightly spent by the English in India. The baron was accompanied by

his wife, a native, we have somewhere read, of Archangel. This young

woman who, born under the Arctic circle, was destined to play the part

of a Queen under the tropic of Cancer, had an agreeable person, a

cultivated mind, and manners in the highest degree engaging. She

despised her husband heartily, and, as the story which we have to tell

sufficiently proves, not without reason. She was interested by the

conversation and flattered by the attentions of Hastings. The situation

was indeed perilous. No place is so propitious to the formation either

of close friendships or of deadly enmities as an Indiaman. There are

very few people who do not find a voyage which lasts several months

insupportably dull. Anything is welcome which may break that long

monotony, a sail, a shark, an albatross, a man overboard. Most

passengers find some resource in eating twice as many meals as on land.

But the great devices for killing the time are quarrelling and flirting.

The facilities for both these exciting pursuits are great. The inmates

of the ship are thrown together far more than in any country-seat or

boarding-house. None can escape from the rest except by imprisoning

himself in a cell in which he can hardly turn. All food, all exercise,

is taken in company. Ceremony is to a great extent banished. It is every

day in the power of a mischievous person to inflict innumerable

annoyances; it is every day in the power of an amiable person to confer

little services. It not seldom happens that serious distress and danger

call forth in genuine beauty and deformity heroic virtues and abject

vices which, in the ordinary intercourse of good society, might remain

during many years unknown even to intimate associates. Under such

circumstances met Warren Hastings and the Baroness Imhoff, two persons

whose accomplishments would have attracted notice in any court of

Europe. The gentleman had no domestic ties. The lady was tied to a

husband for whom she had no regard, and who had no regard for his own

honor. An attachment sprang up, which was soon strengthened by events

such as could hardly have occurred on land. Hastings fell ill. The

baroness nursed him with womanly tenderness, gave him his medicines with

her own hand, and even sat up in his cabin while he slept. Long before

the Duke of Grafton reached Madras, Hastings was in love. But his love

was of a most characteristic description. Like his hatred, like his

ambition, like all his passions, it was strong, but not impetuous. It

was calm, deep, earnest, patient of delay, unconquerable by time. Imhoff

was called into council by his wife and his wife's lover. It was

arranged that the baroness should institute a suit for a divorce in the

courts of Franconia, that the baron should afford every facility to the

proceeding, and that, during the years which might elapse before the

sentence should be pronounced, they should continue to live together. It

was also agreed that Hastings should bestow some very substantial marks

of gratitude on the complaisant husband, and should, when the marriage

was dissolved, make the lady his wife, and adopt the children whom she

had already borne to Imhoff.

At Madras, Hastings found the trade of the Company in a very

disorganized state. His own tastes would have led him rather to

political than to commercial pursuits; but he knew that the favor of his

employers depended chiefly on their dividends, and that their dividends

depended chiefly on the investment. He therefore, with great judgment,

determined to apply his vigorous mind for a time to this department of

business, which had been much neglected, since the servants of the

Company had ceased to be clerks, and had become warriors and

negotiators.

In a very few months he effected an important reform. The Directors

notified to him their high approbation, and were so much pleased with

his conduct that they determined to place him at the head of the

government of Bengal. Early in 1772 he quitted Fort St. George for his

new post. The Imhoffs, who were still man and wife, accompanied him, and

lived at Calcutta on the same plan which they had already followed

during more than two years.

When Hastings took his seat at the head of the council board, Bengal was

still governed according to the system which Clive had devised,--a

system which was, perhaps, skilfully contrived for the purpose of

facilitating and concealing a great revolution, but which, when that

revolution was complete and irrevocable, could produce nothing but

inconvenience. There were two governments, the real and the ostensible.

The supreme power belonged to the Company, and was in truth the most

despotic power that can be conceived. The only restraint on the English

masters of the country was that which their own justice and humanity

imposed on them. There was no constitutional check on their will, and

resistance to them was utterly hopeless.

But, though thus absolute in reality, the English had not yet assumed

the style of sovereignty. They held their territories as vassals of the

throne of Delhi; they raised their revenues as collectors appointed by

the imperial commission; their public seal was inscribed with the

imperial titles; and their mint struck only the imperial coin.

There was still a nabob of Bengal, who stood to the English rulers of

his country in the same relation in which Augustulus stood to Odoacer,

or the last Merovingians to Charles Martel and Pepin. He lived at

Moorshedabad, surrounded by princely magnificence. He was approached

with outward marks of reverence, and his name was used in public

instruments. But in the government of the country he had less real share

than the youngest writer or cadet in the Company's service.

The English council which represented the Company at Calcutta was

constituted on a very different plan from that which has since been

adopted. At present the Governor is, as to all executive measures,

absolute. He can declare war, conclude peace, appoint public

functionaries or remove them, in opposition to the unanimous sense of

those who sit with him in council. They are, indeed, entitled to know

all that is done, to discuss all that is done, to advise, to

remonstrate, to send protests to England. But it is with the Governor

that the supreme power resides, and on him that the whole responsibility

rests. This system, which was introduced by Mr. Pitt and Mr. Dundas in

spite of the strenuous opposition of Mr. Burke, we conceive to be on the

whole the best that was ever devised for the government of a country

where no materials can be found for a representative constitution. In

the time of Hastings the Governor had only one vote in council, and, in

case of an equal division, a casting vote. It therefore happened not

unfrequently that he was overruled on the gravest questions; and it was

possible that he might be wholly excluded, for years together, from the

real direction of public affairs.

The English functionaries at Fort William had as yet paid little or no

attention to the internal government of Bengal. The only branch of

politics about which they much busied themselves was negotiation with

the native princes. The police, the administration of justice, the

details of the collection of revenue, were almost entirely neglected. We

may remark that the phraseology of the Company's servants still bears

the traces of this state of things. To this day they always use the word

"political" as synonymous with "diplomatic." We could name that

gentleman still living, who was described by the highest authority as an

invaluable public servant, eminently fit to be at the head of the

internal administration of a whole presidency, but unfortunately quite

ignorant of all political business.

The internal government of Bengal the English rulers delegated to a

great native minister, who was stationed at Moorshedabad. All military

affairs, and with the exception of what pertains to mere ceremonial all

foreign affairs, were withdrawn from his control; but the other

departments of the administration were entirely confided to him. His own

stipend amounted to near a hundred thousand pounds sterling a year. The

personal allowance of the Nabob, amounting to more than three hundred

thousand pounds a year, passed through the minister's hands, and was, to

a great extent, at his disposal. The collection of the revenue, the

administration of justice, the maintenance of order, were left to this

high functionary; and for the exercise of his immense power he was

responsible to none but the British masters of the country.

A situation so important, lucrative, and splendid was naturally an

object of ambition to the ablest and most powerful natives. Clive had

found it difficult to decide between conflicting pretensions. Two

candidates stood out prominently from the crowd, each of them the

representative of a race and of a religion.

One of these was Mahommed Reza Khan, a Mussulman of Persian extraction,

able, active, religious after the fashion of his people, and highly

esteemed by them. In England he might perhaps have been regarded as a

corrupt and greedy politician. But, tried by the lower standard of

Indian morality, he might be considered as a man of integrity and honor.

His competitor was a Hindoo Brahmin whose name has, by a terrible and

melancholy event, been inseparably associated with that of Warren

Hastings, the Maharajah Nuncomar. This man had played an important part

in all the revolutions which, since the time of Surajah Dowlah, had

taken place in Bengal. To the consideration which in that country

belongs to high and pure caste, he added the weight which is derived

from wealth, talents, and experience. Of his moral character it is

difficult to give a notion to those who are acquainted with human

nature only as it appears in our island. What the Italian is to the

Englishman, what the Hindoo is to the Italian, what the Bengalee is to

other Hindoos, that was Nuncomar to other Bengalese. The physical

organization of the Bengalee is feeble even to effeminacy. He lives in a

constant vapor bath. His pursuits are sedentary, his limbs delicate, his

movements languid. During many ages he has been trampled upon by men of

bolder and more hardy breeds. Courage, independence, veracity, are

qualities to which his constitution and his situation are equally

unfavorable. His mind bears a singular analogy to his body. It is weak

even to helplessness, for purposes of manly resistance; but its

suppleness and its tact move the children of sterner climates to

admiration not unmingled with contempt. All those arts which are the

natural defence of the weak are more familiar to this subtle race than

to the Ionian of the time of Juvenal, or to the Jew of the dark ages.

What the horns are to the buffalo, what the paw is to the tiger, what

the sting is to the bee, what beauty, according to the old Greek song,

is to woman, deceit is to the Bengalee. Large promises, smooth excuses,

elaborate tissues of circumstantial falsehood, chicanery, perjury,

forgery, are the weapons, offensive and defensive, of the people of the

Lower Ganges. All those millions do not furnish one sepoy to the armies

of the Company. But as usurers, as money-changers, as sharp legal

practitioners, no class of human beings can bear a comparison with them.

With all his softness, the Bengalee is by no means placable in his

enmities or prone to pity. The pertinacity with which he adheres to his

purposes yields only to the immediate pressure of fear. Nor does he lack

a certain kind of courage which is often wanting to his masters. To

inevitable evils he is sometimes found to oppose a passive fortitude,

such as the Stoics attributed to their ideal sage. A European warrior

who rushes on a battery of cannon with a loud hurrah will sometimes

shriek under the surgeon's knife, and fall into an agony of despair at

the sentence of death. But the Bengalee who would see his country

overrun, his house laid in ashes, his children murdered or dishonored,

without having the spirit to strike one blow, has yet been known to

endure torture with the firmness of Mucius, and to mount the scaffold

with the steady step and even pulse of Algernon Sydney.

In Nuncomar the national character was strongly and with exaggeration

personified. The Company's servants had repeatedly detected him in the

most criminal intrigues. On one occasion he brought a false charge

against another Hindoo, and tried to substantiate it by producing forged

documents. On another occasion it was discovered that, while professing

the strongest attachment to the English, he was engaged in several

conspiracies against them, and in particular that he was the medium of a

correspondence between the court of Delhi and the French authorities in

the Carnatic. For these and similar practices he had been long detained

in confinement. But his talents and influence had not only procured his

liberation, but had obtained for him a certain degree of consideration

even among the British rulers of his country.

Clive was extremely unwilling to place a Mussulman at the head of the

administration of Bengal. On the other hand, he could not bring himself

to confer immense power on a man to whom every sort of villainy had

repeatedly been brought home. Therefore, though the Nabob, over whom

Nuncomar had by intrigue acquired great influence, begged that the

artful Hindoo might be entrusted with the government, Clive, after some

hesitation, decided honestly and wisely in favor of Mahommed Reza Khan.

When Hastings became Governor, Mahommed Reza Khan had held power seven

years. An infant son of Meer Jaffier was now nabob; and the guardianship

of the young prince's person had been confided to the minister.

Nuncomar, stimulated at once by cupidity and malice, had been constantly

attempting to hurt his successful rival. This was not difficult. The

revenues of Bengal, under the administration established by Clive, did

not yield such a surplus as had been anticipated by the Company; for at

that time, the most absurd notions were entertained in England

respecting the wealth of India. Palaces of porphyry, hung with the

richest brocade, heaps of pearls and diamonds, vaults from which pagodas

and gold mohurs were measured out by the bushel, filled the imagination

even of men of business. Nobody seemed to be aware of what nevertheless

was most undoubtedly the truth, that India was a poorer country than

countries which in Europe are reckoned poor, than Ireland, for example,

or than Portugal. It was confidently believed by lords of the treasury

and members for the city that Bengal would not only defray its own

charges, but would afford an increased dividend to the proprietors of

India stock, and large relief to the English finances. These absurd

expectations were disappointed; and the directors, naturally enough,

chose to attribute the disappointment rather to the mismanagement of

Mahommed Reza Khan than to their own ignorance of the country entrusted

to their care. They were confirmed in their error by the agents of

Nuncomar; for Nuncomar had agents even in Leadenhall Street. Soon after

Hastings reached Calcutta, he received a letter addressed by the Court

of Directors, not to the council generally, but to himself in

particular. He was directed to remove Mahommed Reza Khan, to arrest him,

together with all his family and all his partisans, and to institute a

strict inquiry into the whole administration of the province. It was

added that the Governor would do well to avail himself of the assistance

of Nuncomar in the investigation. The vices of Nuncomar were

acknowledged. But even from his vices, it was said, much advantage might

at such a conjuncture be derived; and, though he could not safely be

trusted, it; might still be proper to encourage him by hopes of reward.

The Governor bore no good will to Nuncomar. Many years before, they had

known each other at Moorshedabad; and then a quarrel had risen between

them which all the authority of their superiors could hardly compose.

Widely as they differed in most points, they resembled each other in

this, that both were men of unforgiving natures. To Mahommed Reza Khan,

on the other hand, Hastings had no feelings of hostility. Nevertheless

he proceeded to execute the instructions of the Company with an alacrity

which he never showed except when instructions were in perfect

conformity with his own views. He had, wisely, as we think, determined

to get rid of the system of double government in Bengal. The orders of

the Directors furnished him with the means of effecting his purpose, and

dispensed him from the necessity of discussing the matter with his

council. He took his measures with his usual vigor and dexterity. At

midnight, the palace of Mahommed Reza Khan at Moorshedabad was

surrounded by a battalion of sepoys. The minister was roused from his

slumbers, and informed that he was a prisoner. With the Mussulman

gravity, he bent his head and submitted himself to the will of God. He

fell not alone. A chief named Schitab Roy had been entrusted with the

government of Bahar. His valor and his attachment to the English had

more than once been signally proved. On that memorable day on which the

people of Patna saw from their walls the whole army of the Mogul

scattered by the little band of Captain Knox, the voice of the British

conquerors assigned the palm of gallantry to the brave Asiatic. "I

never," said Knox, when he introduced Schitab Roy, covered with blood

and dust, to the English functionaries assembled in the factory,--"I

never saw a native fight so before." Schitab Roy was involved in the

ruin of Mahommed Reza Khan, was removed from office, and was placed

under arrest. The members of the council received no intimation of

these measures till the prisoners were on their road to Calcutta.

The inquiry into the conduct of the minister was postponed on different

pretences. He was detained in an easy confinement during many months. In

the meantime, the great revolution which Hastings had planned was

carried into effect. The office of minister was abolished. The internal

administration was transferred to the servants of the Company. A system,

a very imperfect system, it is true, of civil and criminal justice,

under English superintendence, was established. The Nabob was no longer

to have even an ostensible share in the government; but he was still to

receive a considerable annual allowance, and to be surrounded with the

state of sovereignty. As he was an infant, it was necessary to provide

guardians for his person and property. His person was entrusted to a

lady of his father's haram, known by the name of the Munny Begum. The

office of treasurer of the household was bestowed on a son of Nuncomar,

named Goordas. Nuncomar's services were wanted, yet he could not safely

be trusted with power; and Hastings thought it a master stroke of policy

to reward the able and unprincipled parent by promoting the inoffensive

child.

The revolution completed, the double government dissolved, the Company

installed in the full sovereignty of Bengal, Hastings had no motive to

treat the late ministers with rigor. Their trial had been put off on

various pleas till the new organization was complete. They were then

brought before a committee, over which the Governor presided. Schitab

Roy was speedily acquitted with honor. A formal apology was made to him

for the restraint to which he had been subjected. All the Eastern marks

of respect were bestowed on him. He was clothed in a robe of state,

presented with jewels and with a richly harnessed elephant, and sent

back to his government at Patna. But his health had suffered from

confinement; his high spirit had been cruelly wounded; and soon after

his liberation he died of a broken heart.

The innocence of Mahommed Reza Khan was not so clearly established. But

the Governor was not disposed to deal harshly. After a long hearing, in

which Nuncomar appeared as the accuser, and displayed both the art and

the inveterate rancor which distinguished him, Hastings pronounced that

the charges had not been made out, and ordered the fallen minister to be

set at liberty.

Nuncomar had purposed to destroy the Mussulman administration, and to

rise on its ruin. Both his malevolence and his cupidity had been

disappointed. Hastings had made him a tool, had used him for the purpose

of accomplishing the transfer of the government from Moorshedabad to

Calcutta, from native to European hands. The rival, the enemy, so long

envied, so implacably persecuted, had been dismissed unhurt. The

situation so long and ardently desired had been abolished. It was

natural that the Governor should be from that time an object of the most

intense hatred to the vindictive Brahmin. As yet, however, it was

necessary to suppress such feelings. The time was coming when that long

animosity was to end in a desperate and deadly struggle.

Critical and Historical Essays, Volume III (of 3) · 第 10 / 60 段