15 February 1790 – 21 February 1790

Mr. Hastings’s trial re-commenced; and her majesty graciously presented me with tickets for Mr. Francis, Charlotte, and myself. She acknowledged a very great curiosity to know whether my old friends amongst the managers would renew their intercourse with a Court friend, or include me in the distaste conceived against herself, and drop their visits. I had not once been to the trial the preceding year, nor seen any of the set since the king’s illness. We were there hours before they entered, all spent in a harmony of converse and communication I never for three hours following can have elsewhere: no summons impending—no fear of accidental delay drawing off attention to official solicitude. At the stated time they entered in the usual form, Mr. Burke first. I felt so grieved a resentment of his late conduct, that I was glad to turn away from his countenance. I looked elsewhere during the whole procession, and their subsequent arrangement, that I might leave totally to themselves and their consciences whether to notice a friend from Court or not. Their consciences said not. No one came; I only heard through Charlotte that Mr. Windham was of the set. Mr. Anstruther spoke, and all others took gentle naps! I don’t believe he found it out. When all was concluded, I saw one of them ascending towards our seats: and presently heard the voice of Mr. Burke. I wished myself many miles off! ’tis so painful to see with utter disapprobation those faces we have met, with joy and pleasure! He came to speak to some relations of Mr. Anstruther. I was next them, and, when recovered from my first repugnance, I thought it better to turn round, not to seem leading the way myself to any breach. I met his eyes immediately, and curtsied. He only said, “O! is it you?” then asked how I did, said something in praise of Mr. Anstruther, partly to his friends and partly to me—heard from me no reply—and hurried away, coldly, and with a look dissatisfied and uncordial. I was much concerned; and we came away soon after. Here is an impromptu, said to have been written by Mr. Hastings during Mr. Grey’s speech, which was a panegyric on Mr. Philip Francis:— “It hurts me not, that Grey, as Burke’s assessor, Proclaims me Tyrant, Robber, and Oppressor, Tho’ for abuse alone meant: For when he call’d himself the bosom friend, The Friend of Philip Francis,—I contend He made me full atonement.” I was called upon, on my return, to relate the day’s business. Heavy and lame was the relation but their majesties were curious, and nothing better suited truth.