Quaint Gleanings from Ancient Poetry Part 6

From Eastern climes, lo, Hastings! late return'd, His struggles ended, and his fame well earn'd, Ill.u.s.trious Stateman! [13] to a distant age Thy name shall live and grace th'historic page; There licens'd falsehoods [14] shall no more prevail, Nor Dodsley publish [15] Edmund's annual tale.

When France, exulting, deem'd our ruin near, And Hyder's progress struck each Chief with fear; When hostile nations press'd in league combin'd, Collected, firm, and dauntless was thy mind; Inspir'd by Hastings, Coote [16]: the seasons brav'd, Embark'd his succours, and a kingdom sav'd.

G.o.ddard [17] at his command our standard bore Through lands to England's sons unknown before; While Popham's victories rais'd our country's fame And fix'd in realms remote the British name.

The sued-for peace [18] to Gualior's fall is due.

And Gualior's capture long was Hastings' view.

History shall tell how clos'd the scene of blood, When to a world oppos'd Britannia stood; No conquest Gallia claims on India's coast, No splendid triumphs can the Belgian boast, For millions wasted, [19] and a navy lost.

The keen Maratta and the fierce Mysore Their league dissolve, and give the contest o'er; And peace restor'd, e'en party owns, tho' late, [20]

That Hastings' firmness has preserv'd the State.

Succeeding ages this great truth shall know, A truth recorded by a generous foe, [21]

That England's genius, in a luckless hour For Gallic schemes, gave Hastings Sov'reign pow'r.

[Footnote 13: Pitt, who moved the address upon the peace in Lord Shelburne's administration, declared, in the course of his speech, that he had no fears for India while so ill.u.s.trious a stateman as Mr.

Hastings directed our councils, and so great a general as Sir Eyre Coote commanded our armies. This declaration was the more honourable for Mr. Hastings because at that time the absurd prejudices of the Rockingham party had misled half the Nation.]

[Footnote 14: It can be remembered with what diligence copies of the reports of the Select Committee were circulated under the sanction of the Ministry, and how many false and abusive libels were given away through the kingdom, tending to depreciate the character of Mr.

Hastings, previous to Mr. Fox's bringing in his India Bill.]

[Footnote 15: Mr. Burke published a speech almost every year after he came into notice.]

[Footnote 16: The preservation of the British empire in India depended upon Sir Eyre Coote's safe arrival at Madras with money and troops at the most dangerous season of the year, when merchant ships seldom venture upon the coast.]

[Footnote 17: General G.o.ddard marched from Corah to Surat, across the continent of Indostan, and after the conclusion of the peace the same army returned to Bengal under the command of Colonel Charles Morgan, through countries which we had formerly little knowledge of. Colonel Pearce marched at the head of five regiments of Bengal Sepoys from Calcutta to reinforce Sir Eyre Coote's army at Madras. This brave detachment was distinguished in every action; on the attack of the French lines at Cuddalore, one of the regiments was opposed to a French European regiment, and much of the success of that day is attributed to the spirited exertions of the Bengal detachment. Colonel Pearce, on the conclusion of the peace with Tippoo, marched this detachment back to Calcutta, where it was disbanded in the month of January.]

[Footnote 18: The separate peace with Madagee Scindia was entirely owing to the capture of Gwalior and to the subsequent operations of a detachment formed by Hastings for the express purpose of drawing Scindia from Guzzerat to the defence of his own dominions, and as a certain means of effecting a general peace.]

[Footnote 19: The war in India cost France at least seven millions sterling, and at the close of it we were in possession of all the French and Dutch settlements on the continent of India, and were besieging their forces in Cuddalore when intelligence of the peace in Europe was received at Madras.]

[Footnote 20: The Directors were divided at one period in their opinion of Hastings; and Fox and Burke invariably laid great stress upon the circ.u.mstance that thirteen directors were of opinion he ought to be recalled in 1783, though ten of the same body, and 428 proprietors, most strenuously supported him. Many of the thirteen who voted his recall in 1783 were in the Direction when he received a unanimous vote of thanks for his long, faithful, and important services.]

[Footnote 21: Monsieur Law, governor of Pondicherry, in a memoir addressed to the French Minister, says, "In an evil hour for France the English East India Company appointed Mr. Hastings governor of Bengal." And Monsieur Suffrien, in a letter to Hastings, relative to his treatment of English prisoners, says that he wishes to explain the motives of his conduct to one "of whom all the world speaks well,"-and surely a compliment of this kind was never paid with more justice to any individual than to Warren Hastings. Throughout India and Europe, the character of no man was more generally known or more universally respected.]

AN IMITATION OF HORACE

BOOK II., ODE 16.

WRITTEN BY WARREN HASTINGS ON HIS Pa.s.sAGE FROM BENGAL TO ENGLAND IN 1785.

ADDRESSED TO JOHN Sh.o.r.e, ESQ.

For ease the hara.s.s'd seaman prays, When Equinoctial tempests raise The Cape's surrounding wave; When hanging o'er the reef, he hears The cracking mast, and sees or fears, Beneath, his wat'ry grave.

For ease the slow _Maratta_ spoils, And hardier _Sic_ erratic toils, While both their ease forego; For ease, which neither gold can buy, Nor robes, nor gems, which oft belie, The cover'd heart bestow;

For neither gold nor gems combin'd Can heal the soul, or suffering mind; Lo! where their owner lies, Perch'd on his couch Distemper breathes, And Care like smoke, in turbid wreathes, Round the gay cieling flies.

He who enjoys, nor covets more, The lands his father held before, Is of true bliss possess'd: Let but his mind unfetter'd tread Far as the paths of knowledge lead, And wise as well as blest.

No fears his peace of mind annoy Lest printed lies his fame destroy, Which labour'd years have won, Nor pack'd committees break his rest, Nor avarice sends him forth in quest Of climes beneath the sun.

Short is our span; then why engage In schemes, for which man's transient age Was ne'er by Fate designed?

Why slight the gifts of Nature's hand?

What wanderer from his native land E'er left himself behind?

The restless thought, and wayward will, And discontent attend him still, Nor quit him while he lives; At sea care follows in the wind, At land it mounts the pad behind, Or with the postboy drives.

He would happy live to-day Must laugh the present ills away, Nor think of woes to come, For come they will or soon or late, Since mix'd at best is man's estate, By Heaven's eternal doom.

To ripen'd age Clive liv'd renown'd, With lacks enrich'd, with honours crown'd, His valour's well-earn'd meed; Too long, alas! he lived to hate His envied lot, and died [22] too late, From life's oppression freed.

An early death was Elliott's [23] doom; I saw his opening virtues bloom, And manly sense unfold, Too soon to fade! I bade the stone Record his name 'midst Hordes unknown, Unknowing what it told.

To thee, perhaps, the fates may give-- I wish they may--in health to live, Herds, flocks, and fruitful fields, Thy vacant hours in mirth to shine; With these, the muse already thine Her present bounties yields.

For me, O Sh.o.r.e! I only claim To merit, not to seek for fame, The good and just to please, A state above the fear of want, Domestic love, Heaven's choicest grant, Health, leisure, peace, and ease.

[Footnote 22: Lord Clive committed suicide 1774.]

[Footnote 23: Mr. Elliott died in October, 1778, on his way to Nangpore, the capital of Moodagees Boofla's dominions, being deputed on an emba.s.sy to that prince by the Governor-General and Council; a monument was erected to his memory on the spot where he was buried, and the Marattas have since built a town there, called Elliott Gunge, or Elliott's Town.]

EPITAPH ON DR. JOHNSON.

Here lies poor Johnson. Reader, have a care, Tread lightly, lest you rouse a sleeping bear: Religious, moral, generous, and humane He was, but self-sufficient, rude, and vain; Ill-bred and overbearing in dispute, A scholar and a Christian--yet a brute.

Would you know all his wisdom and his folly, His actions, sayings, mirth, and melancholy?

Boswell and Thrale, retailers of his wit, Will tell you how he wrote, and talked, and cough'd, and spit.

VERSES UPON THE ROAD.

FACIT INDIGNATIO.

AN UNPUBLISHED POEM, BY DAVID GARRICK, TO LORD JOHN CAVENDISH.

Whilst all with sighs their way pursue From Chatsworth's blest abode, My mind still fires, my Lord, at you, And thus bursts out in ode.

Forgive my phrenzy, good Lord John, For pa.s.sion's my Apollo: Sweet Hebe says, when sense is gone, That nonsense needs must follow.

Like Indian knife, or Highland sword, Your words have hewn and hack'd me; Whilst Quin, a rebel to his lord, Like his own Falstaff back'd me.

In vain I bounce, and fume, and fret, Swear Shakespeare is divine; Fitzherbert [24] can a while forget His pains to laugh at mine.

Lord Frederick, George, and eke his Grace, My honest zeal deride; Nay, Hubert's melancholy face Smirks on your Lordship's side.