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 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, on my part, very awkward, from the distress I felt lest Mr. Hastings should look up, and from a conviction that I must not name 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 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!”