Old times

by John Ashton

OLD TIMES.

Although this book does not pretend to be a history of the times of which it treats, still, it will materially help the reader, if, at the outset, some of the principal events which occurred during the period are succinctly narrated.

We start with the year 1788—and one of the first items of importance is the founding of the colony of New South Wales; for Captain Phillips, on 28th January, landed the first batch of convicts, consisting of 561 men, 192 women, and 18 children, also a military force of 212 men. As soon as they were all on shore, Phillips ordered the King's Commission to be read, and assumed the office of Governor. Such was the modest foundation of our great Australian Empire. On the same day at home, Lord George Gordon, of Protestant rioting memory, was brought before the judges of the King's Bench, to receive sentence on two libels, one against the Queen of France, and another on the criminal justice of the country. His sentence for the former, was three years' imprisonment, for the latter, two years, to pay a fine of £500, and find security for his good behaviour for fourteen years. He fled to Holland, was arrested, brought back, and lodged in Newgate. He did not live to regain his liberty, but death set him free 1st November 1793.

An all-absorbing topic of conversation in this year was the trial of Warren Hastings, for his conduct whilst Governor-General of Bengal. The trial commenced on the 13th of February, and it took place in Westminster Hall, which was fitted up with a throne and canopy, having the woolsack for the Lord Chancellor in front. On either side the throne was a private box, one for the use of the King, the other for the Queen: the King never used either throne or box, but, when he went to the trial, he went incognito.

There were seats covered with green baize for the accommodation of members of the House of Commons, but all the rest of the hall was glowing with red baize. Boxes were also provided for the Ambassadors and Corps Diplomatique. The grand show commenced at eleven A.M. with the entrance of the committee appointed to manage the impeachment, all of them in full dress, followed by Burke, who headed the members of the House of Commons.

Hardly had they taken their seats when a buzz of excitement filled the hall, for no one less than the Queen, attended by all her daughters, entered. She did not go to the royal box, but sat in part of the Duke of Newcastle's Gallery. This attracted the attention of all, until the coming in of the peers, including the judges, and the Bishops, the string of Dukes being closed by the Prince of Wales (as Duke of Cornwall), and the Dukes of York, Gloucester, and Cumberland. Lord Thurlow, the Lord Chancellor, came last. The peers all wore their robes and collars, the robes of the royal dukes being borne by pages. Then the Chancellor's mace-bearer cried "Oyez, Oyez, Oyez," and notified to all, that Warren Hastings had come to take his trial, and that his accusers might come forth and make good their charges against him. The Lord Chancellor addressed the prisoner, and told him to be prepared with his defence, to which Hastings replied, "My Lords, I am come to this high tribunal equally impressed with a confidence in my own integrity and in the justice of the court before which I stand." As this trial will not again be mentioned, I may state the fact, that it lasted seven years and three months, and ended in his acquittal, 17th April 1795.

Another remarkable event happened in this year, for on 31st January there died at Rome, at the age of sixty-seven, the young Pretender, Prince Charles Edward Louis Casimir Stuart, grandson of James II.; and, with him, died all hope for the Jacobite party, for he left behind him but one natural daughter, on whom he conferred the empty title of Duchess of Albany. It is true that he left his pretensions to the throne of England to his brother, Cardinal York, but all this Prince did to claim regal honours was to strike a medal, on which he styled himself Henry the IXth. He knew there was no use in continuing the struggle, so accepted a pension from George III., which was paid him until his death.

There is little worth chronicling until we come to the (to Englishmen) most painful event of the year, namely, the King's illness. In July his physicians remarked symptoms in him which gave them grave concern, but he visited Cheltenham, and improved in his health. In October, however, rumours began to get about that all was not well. The Morning Post of 30th October mentions that "On 28th His Majesty complained of a pain in his bowels, and by the advice of his physicians, and the rest of His Majesty's attendants, he is not expected to leave Windsor for the course of a week or a fortnight." Next day we hear that "the chief symptom is said to be a swelling in the legs." Then news is brought, that on the 4th November he had a relapse; on the 7th he is reported better, though, as a matter of fact, he was delirious at dinner on the 5th. On the 9th they say he is better; on the 10th he is MUCH BETTER, and HOPES ARE ENTERTAINED OF HIS RECOVERY. The bulletins of the 11th are vague; that of the 12th reports that he "was not better," and the newspapers of the 13th openly speak of a Regency. In the Morning Post of November 14th it plainly states that "his mental faculties were more deranged." Then his physicians quarrelled amongst themselves as to his treatment, and wrote daily contradictory bulletins, until Dr. Willis took his patient under his sole charge, with good effect. And so ends 1788.