With all the efforts that Clive, aided by the authorities, could make, it was not until the middle of February that he had completed his arrangements. On the 9th, the hundred men arrived from Bengal, and, without the loss of a day, Clive started from Madras to form a junction with the garrison from Arcot, who, leaving only a small force to hold the fort, had moved down to meet him.



Chapter 9: The Battle Of Kavaripak.

The troops from Arcot had already moved some distance on their way to Madras, and Clive, therefore, with the new levies, joined them on the day after his leaving Madras. The French and Riza Sahib let slip the opportunity of attacking these bodies, before they united. They were well aware of their movements, and had resolved upon tactics, calculated in the first place to puzzle the English commander, to wear out his troops, and to enable them finally to surprise and take him entirely at a disadvantage.

The junction with the Arcot garrison raised the force under Clive's orders to three hundred and eighty English, thirteen hundred Sepoys, and six field guns, while the enemy at Vendalur, a place twenty-five miles south of Madras, where they had a fortified camp, had four hundred French troops, two thousand Sepoys, two thousand five hundred cavalry, and twelve guns.

Hoping to surprise them there, Clive marched all night. When the force approached the town they heard that the enemy had disappeared, and that they had started, apparently, in several directions.

The force was halted for a few hours, and then the news was obtained that the enemy had united their forces at Conjeveram, and that they had marched away from that place in a westerly direction. Doubting not that they were about to attack Arcot, which, weakened by the departure of the greater portion of its garrison, would be in no position to defend itself against a sudden coup de main by a strong force, Clive set his troops again in motion. The French, indeed, had already bribed some of the native soldiers within the fort; who were to reply to a signal made without, if they were in a position to open the gates. However, by good fortune their treachery had been discovered, and when the French arrived they received no reply to their signal; and as Arcot would be sure to fall if they defeated Clive, they marched away without attacking it, to take up the position which they had agreed upon beforehand.

It was at nine in the evening that Clive, at Vendalur, obtained intelligence that the enemy had assembled at Conjeveram. The troops had already marched twenty-five miles, but they had had a rest of five hours, and Clive started with them at once, and reached Conjeveram, twenty miles distant, at four in the morning. Finding that the enemy had again disappeared, he ordered the troops to halt for a few hours. They had already marched forty-five miles in twenty-four hours, a great feat when it is remembered that only the Arcot garrison were in any way accustomed to fatigue, the others being newly raised levies. The greater portion of the Sepoys had been enlisted within the fortnight preceding.

"I don't know, Mr. Marryat, whether the French call this fighting. I call it playing hide and seek," Tim Kelly said. "Shure we've bin marching, with only a halt of two or three hours, since yisterday morning; and my poor feet are that sore that I daren't take my boots off me, for I'm shure I'd never git 'em on agin. If the French want to fight us, why don't they do it square and honest, not be racing and chasing about like a lot of wild sheep."

"Have you seen the moonshee, Tim? He is with the baggage."

"Shure and I saw him," Tim said. "The cart come in just now, and there was he, perched up on the top of it like a dried monkey. You don't want him tonight, shure, yer honor."

"Oh no, I don't want him, Tim. You'd better go now, and get to sleep at once, if you can. We may be off again, at any minute."

Arcot is twenty-seven miles from Conjeveram. Clive felt certain that the enemy had gone on to that place; but, anxious as he was for its safety, it was absolutely necessary that the troops should have a rest before starting on such a march. They were, therefore, allowed to rest until twelve o'clock; when, refreshed by their eight hours' halt and breakfast, they started upon their long march towards Arcot, making sure that they should not find the enemy until they reached that place.

Had Clive possessed a body of cavalry, however small, he would have been able to scour the country, and to make himself acquainted with the real position of the French. Cavalry are to a general what eyes are to a man, and without these he is liable to tumble into a pitfall. Such was the case on the present occasion. Having no doubt that the enemy were engaged in attacking Arcot, the troops were plodding along carelessly and in loose order; when, to their astonishment, after a sixteen-mile march, as they approached the town of Kavaripak just as the sun was setting, a fire of artillery opened upon them from a grove upon the right of the road, but two hundred and fifty yards distant. Nothing is more confusing than a surprise of this kind, especially to young troops, and when no enemy is thought to be near.

The French general's plans had been well laid. He had reached Kavaripak that morning, and allowed his troops to rest all day, and he expected to obtain an easy victory over the tired men who would, unsuspicious of danger, be pressing on to the relief of Arcot. So far his calculations had been correct, and the English marched unsuspiciously into the trap laid for them.

The twelve French guns were placed in a grove, round whose sides, facing the point from which Clive was approaching, ran a deep ditch with a high bank forming a regular battery. A body of French infantry were placed in support of the guns, with some Sepoys in reserve behind the grove. Parallel with the road on the left ran a deep watercourse, now empty, and in this the rest of the infantry were stationed, at a point near the town of Kavaripak, and about a quarter of a mile further back than the grove. On either side of this watercourse the enemy had placed his powerful cavalry force.

For a moment, when the guns opened, there was confusion and panic among the British troops. Clive, however, ever cool and confident in danger, and well seconded by his officers, rallied them at once. The position was one of extreme danger. It was possible, indeed, to retreat, but in the face of an enemy superior in infantry and guns, and possessing so powerful a body of cavalry, the operation would have been a very dangerous one. Even if accomplished, it would entail an immense loss of morale and prestige to his troops. Hitherto, under his leading, they had been always successful; and a belief in his own superiority adds immensely to the fighting power of a soldier. Even should the remnant of the force fight its way back to Madras, the campaign would have been a lost one, and all hope of saving Trichinopoli would have been at an end.

"Steady, lads, steady," he shouted. "Form up quietly and steadily. We have beaten the enemy before, you know, and we will do so again."

While the troops, in spite of the artillery fire, fell into line, Clive rapidly surveyed the ground. He saw the enemy's infantry advancing up the watercourse, and so sheltered by it as to be out of the fire of his troops. He saw their cavalry sweeping down on the other side of the watercourse, menacing his left and threatening his baggage. The guns were at once brought up from the rear, but before these arrived the men were falling fast.

Three of the guns he placed to answer the French battery, two of them he hurried to his left, with a small body of English and two hundred Sepoys, to check the advance of the enemy's cavalry. The main body of his infantry he ordered into the watercourse, which afforded them a shelter from the enemy's artillery. The baggage carts and baggage he sent half a mile to the rear, under the protection of forty Sepoys and a gun.

While this was being done the enemy's fire was continuing, but his infantry advanced but slowly, and had not reached a point abreast of the grove when the British force in the watercourse met them. It would not seem to be a very important matter, at what point in the watercourse the infantry of the two opposing parties came into collision, but matters apparently trifling in themselves often decide the fate of battles; and, in fact, had the French artillery retained their fire until their infantry were abreast of the grove, the battle of Kavaripak would have been won by them, and the British power in Southern India would have been destroyed.

Clive moved confidently and resolutely among his men, keeping up their courage by cheerful words, and he was well seconded by his officers.

"Now, lads," Charlie Marryat cried to the company of which he was in command, "stick to it. You ought to be very thankful to the French, for saving you the trouble of having to march another twelve miles before giving you an opportunity of thrashing them."

The men laughed, and redoubled their fire on the French infantry, who were facing them in the watercourse at a distance of eighty yards. Neither party liked to charge. The French commander knew that he had only to hold his position to win the day. His guns were mowing down the English artillerymen. The English party on the left of the watercourse, with difficulty, held their own against the charges of his horsemen, and were rapidly dwindling away under the artillery fire, while other bodies of his cavalry had surrounded the baggage, and were attacking the little force told off to guard it. He knew, too, that any attempt the English might make to attack the battery, with its strong defences, must inevitably fail.

The situation was becoming desperate. It was now ten o'clock. The fight had gone on for four hours. No advantage had been gained, the men were losing confidence, and the position grew more and more desperate. Clive saw that there was but one chance of victory. The grove could not be carried in the front, but it was just possible that it might be open in the rear.

Choosing a sergeant who spoke the native language well, he bade him leave the party in the watercourse, and make his way round to the rear of the grove, and discover whether it was strongly guarded there or not. In twenty minutes, the sergeant returned with the news that there was no strong force there.

Clive at once took two hundred of his English infantry, the men who had fought at Arcot, and quietly left the watercourse and made his way round towards the rear of the grove. Before he had gone far the main body in the watercourse, surprised at the sudden withdrawal of the greater portion of the English force, and missing the presence of Clive himself, began to lose heart. They no longer replied energetically to the fire of the French infantry. A movement of retreat began, the fire ceased, and in a minute or two they would have broken in flight.

At this moment, Clive returned. As he moved forward, he had marked the dying away of the English fire, and guessing what had happened, had given over the command of the column to Lieutenant Keene, the senior officer, and hurried back to the watercourse. He arrived there just as the troops had commenced to run away.

Throwing himself among them, with shouts and exhortations, he succeeded in arresting their flight; and, by assurances that the battle was as good as won elsewhere, and that they had only to hold their ground for a few minutes longer to ensure victory, he got them to advance to their former position; and to reopen fire on the French, who had, fortunately, remained inactive instead of advancing and taking advantage of the cessation of the English fire.

In the meantime, Lieutenant Keene led his detachment, making a long circuit, to a point three hundred yards immediately behind the grove. He then sent forward one of his officers, Ensign Symmonds, who spoke French perfectly, to reconnoitre the grove. Symmonds had proceeded but a little way, when he came upon a large number of French Sepoys, who were covering the rear of the grove; but who, as their services were not required, were sheltering themselves there from the random bullets which were flying about. They at once challenged; but Symmonds answering them in French they, being unable to see his uniform in the darkness, and supposing him to be a French officer, allowed him to advance.

He passed boldly forward into the grove. He proceeded nearly through it, until he came within sight of the guns, which were still keeping up their fire upon those of the English; while a hundred French infantry, who were in support, were all occupied in watching what was going on in front of them. Symmonds returned to the detachment, by a path to the right of that by which he had entered, and passed out without seeing a soul.

Lieutenant Keene gave the word to advance and, following the guidance of Mr. Symmonds, entered the grove. He advanced, unobserved, until within thirty yards of the enemy. Here he halted, and poured a volley into them.

The effect was instantaneous. Many of the French fell, and the rest, astounded at this sudden and unexpected attack, left their guns and fled. Sixty of them rushed for shelter into a building at the end of the grove, where the English surrounded them and forced them to surrender.

By this sudden stroke, the battle of Kavaripak was won. The sound of the musketry fire, and the immediate cessation of that of the enemy's guns, told Clive that the grove was captured. A few minutes later fugitives, arriving from the grove, informed the commander of the enemy's main body of infantry of the misfortune which had befallen them. The French fire at once ceased, and the troops withdrew.

In the darkness, it was impossible for Clive to attempt a pursuit. He was in ignorance of the direction the enemy had taken; his troops had already marched sixty miles in two days; and he would, moreover, have been exposed to sudden dashes of the enemy's cavalry. Clive, therefore, united his troops, joined his baggage, which the little guard had gallantly defended against the attacks of the enemy's cavalry, and waited for morning.

At daybreak, not an enemy was to be seen. Fifty Frenchmen lay dead on the field, and sixty were captives. Three hundred French Sepoys had fallen. There were, besides, many wounded. The enemy's artillery had been all captured. The British loss was forty English and thirty Sepoys killed, and a great number of both wounded.

The moral effect of the victory was immense. It was the first time that French and English soldiers had fought in the field against each other, in India. The French had proved to the natives that they were enormously their superiors in fighting power. Hitherto the English had not done so. The defence of Arcot had proved that they could fight behind walls; but the natives had, themselves, many examples of gallant defences of this kind. The English troops, under Gingen and Cope, had suffered themselves to be cooped up in Trichinopoli, and had not struck a blow in its defence.

At Kavaripak, the natives discovered that the English could fight as well, or better than the French. The latter were somewhat stronger, numerically, than their rivals. They had double the force of artillery, were half as strong again in Sepoys, and had two thousand five hundred cavalry, while the English had not a single horseman. They had all the advantages of surprise and position; and yet, they had been entirely defeated.

Thenceforth the natives of India regarded the English as a people to be feared and respected; and, for the first time, considered their ultimate triumph over the French to be a possibility. As the policy of the native princes had ever been to side with the strongest, the advantage thus gained to the English cause, by the victory of Kavaripak, was enormous.

On the following day, the English took possession of the fort of Kavaripak, and marched to Arcot. Scarcely had they arrived there when Clive received a despatch from Fort Saint David; ordering him to return there at once, with all his troops; to march to the relief of Trichinopoli, where the garrison was reported to be in the sorest straits, from want of provisions.

The force reached Fort Saint David on the 11th of March. Here preparations were hurried forward for the advance to Trichinopoli; and, in three days, Clive was ready to start. Just as he was about to set out, a ship arrived from England, having on board some more troops, together with Major Lawrence and several officers, some of whom were captains senior to Clive.

Major Lawrence, who had already proved his capacity and energy, of course took command of the expedition; and treated Clive, who had served under him at the siege of Pondicherry, and whose successes in the field had attracted his high admiration, as second in command, somewhat to the discontent of the officers senior to him in rank.

The force consisted of four hundred Europeans, eleven hundred Sepoys, and eight guns, and escorted a large train of provisions and stores. During these months which the diversion, caused by the attack of Riza Sahib and the French upon Madras, had given to the besiegers of Trichinopoli, they should have long since captured the town. In spite of all the orders of Dupleix, Law could not bring himself to attack the town; and the French governor of Pondicherry saw, with dismay, that the two months and a half, which his efforts and energy had gained for the besiegers, had been entirely wasted; and that it was probable the whole fruits of his labours would be thrown away.

He now directed Law to leave only a small force in front of Trichinopoli, and to march with the whole of his army, and that of Chunda Sahib, and crush the force advancing under Lawrence to the relief of Trichinopoli. Law, however, disobeyed orders; and, indeed, acted in direct contradiction to them. He maintained six hundred French troops and many thousands of native before Trichinopoli, and sent but two hundred and fifty French, and about three hundred and fifty natives—a force altogether inferior in numbers to that which it was sent to oppose—to arrest the progress of Lawrence's advancing column.

The position which this French force was directed to occupy was the fort of Koiladi, an admirable position. As the two branches of the Kavari were, here, but half a mile apart, had Law concentrated all his force here he could, no doubt, have successfully opposed the English.

Lawrence, however, when the guns of the fort opened upon him, replied to them by the fire of his artillery; and, as the French force was insufficient to enable its commander to fight him in the open, he was enabled to take his troops and convoy in safety past the fort. When Law heard this, he marched out and took his position round a lofty, and almost, inaccessible rock called Elmiseram, and prepared to give battle.

Lawrence, however, after passing Koiladi, had been joined by a hundred English and fifty dragoons, from Trichinopoli. These acted as guides, and led him by a route by which he avoided the French position; and effected a junction with two hundred Europeans, and four hundred Sepoys from Trichinopoli; and with a body of Mahratta cavalry, under Murari Reo.

Law, having failed to attack the English force upon its march, now, when its strength was nearly doubled, suddenly decided to give battle, and advanced against the force which, wearied with its long march, had just begun to prepare their breakfast. The French artillery at once put the Mahratta cavalry to flight.

Lawrence called the men again under arms, and sent Clive forward to reconnoitre. He found the French infantry drawn up, with twenty-two guns, with large bodies of cavalry on either flank. Opposite to the centre of their position was a large caravansary, or native inn, with stone buildings attached. It was nearer to their position than to that occupied by the English, and Clive saw at once that, if seized and held by the enemy's artillery, it would sweep the whole ground over which the English would have to advance.

He galloped back at full speed to Major Lawrence, and asked leave at once to occupy the building. Obtaining permission, he advanced with all speed to the caravansary, with some guns and infantry.

The negligence of the French, in allowing this movement to be carried out, was fatal to them. The English artillery opened upon them from the cover of the inn and buildings, and to this fire the French in the open could reply only at a great disadvantage. After a cannonade lasting half an hour, the French, having lost forty European and three hundred native soldiers, fell back; the English having lost only twenty-one.

Disheartened at this result, utterly disappointed at the failure which had attended his long operations against Trichinopoli, without energy or decision, Law at once raised the siege of the town, abandoning a great portion of his baggage; and, destroying great stores of ammunition and supplies, crossed an arm of the Kavari and took post in the great fortified temple of Seringam.

The delight of the troops; so long besieged in Trichinopoli; inactive, dispirited, and hopeless, was extreme; and the exultation of Muhammud Ali and his native allies was no less.

Captain Cope, towards the end of the siege, had been killed, in one of the little skirmishes which occasionally took place with the French.

Charlie Marryat and Peters had, owing to some of the officers senior to them being killed or invalided, and to large numbers of fresh recruits being raised, received a step in rank. They were now lieutenants, and each commanded a body of Sepoys, two hundred strong. At Charlie's request, Tim Kelly was detached from his company, and allowed to remain with him as soldier servant. After the retreat of the French, and the settling down of the English force in the lines they had occupied, Charlie and his friend entered Trichinopoli, and were surprised at the temples and palaces there. Although very inferior to Tanjore, and in no way even comparable to the cities of the northwest of India, Trichinopoli was a far more important city than any they had hitherto seen. They ascended the lofty rock, and visited the fort on its summit, which looked as if, in the hands of a resolute garrison, it should be impregnable to attack.

The manner in which this rock, as well as that of Elmiseram and others lying in sight, rose sheer up from the plain, filled them with surprise; for, although these natural rock fortresses are common enough in India, they are almost without an example in Europe. After visiting the fort they rambled through the town, and were amused at the scene of bustle in its streets; and at the gay shops, full of articles new and curious to them, in the bazaars.

"They are wonderfully clever and ingenious," Charlie said. "Look what rough tools that man is working with, and what delicate and intricate work he is turning out. If these fellows could but fight as well as they work, and were but united among themselves, not only should we be unable to set a foot in India, but the emperor, with the enormous armies which he would be able to raise, would be able to threaten Europe. I suppose they never have been really good fighting men. Alexander, a couple of thousand years ago, defeated them; and since then the Afghans, and other northern peoples, have been always overrunning and conquering them.

"I can't make it out. These Sepoys, after only a few weeks' training, fight almost as well as our own men. I wonder how it is that, when commanded by their own countrymen, they are able to make so poor a fight of it.

"We had better be going back to camp again, Peters. At any moment, there may be orders for us to do something. With Major Lawrence and Clive together, we are not likely to stop here long, inactive."



Chapter 10: The Fall Of Seringam.

Although called an island, Seringam is in fact a long narrow tongue of land, running between the two branches of the river Kavari. In some places these arms are but a few hundred yards apart, and the island can therefore be defended against an attack along the land. But the retreat of the French by this line was equally difficult, as we held the narrowest part of the neck, two miles from Koiladi.

Upon the south, our forces at Trichinopoli faced the French across the river. Upon the other side of the Kolrun, as the northern arm of the Kavari is called, the French could cross the river and make their retreat, if necessary, in any direction. The two principal roads, however, led from Paichandah, a strong fortified position on the bank of the river, facing the temple of Seringam.

Clive saw that a force crossing the river, and taking up its position on the north, would entirely cut off Law's army in the island; would intercept any reinforcements sent by Dupleix to its rescue; and might compel the surrender of the whole French army. The attempt would, of course, be a dangerous one. The French force was considerably stronger than the English, and were the latter divided into two portions, entirely cut off from each other, the central point between them being occupied by the French, the latter would have an opportunity of throwing his whole force upon one after the other.

This danger would have been so great that, had the French been commanded by an able and active officer, the attempt would never have been made. Law, however, had shown amply that he had neither energy nor intelligence, and Major Lawrence therefore accepted Clive's proposal.

But to be successful, it was necessary that both portions of the English force should be well commanded. Major Lawrence felt confident in his own capacity to withstand Law upon the southern bank, and in case of necessity he could fall back under the guns of Trichinopoli. He felt sure that he could, with equal certainty, confide the command of the other party to Captain Clive. There was, however, the difficulty that he was the junior captain present; and that already great jealousy had been excited, among his seniors, by the rank which he occupied in the councils of Lawrence.

Fortunately, the difficulty was settled by the native allies. Major Lawrence laid his plans before Muhammud Ali and his allies, whose cooperation and assistance were absolutely necessary. These, after hearing the proposal, agreed to give their assistance, but only upon the condition that Clive should be placed in command of the expeditionary party. They had already seen the paralysing effects of the incapacity of some English officers. Clive's defence of Arcot, and the victories of Arni and Kavaripak, had excited their intense admiration, and caused them to place unbounded confidence in him. Therefore they said:

"If Captain Clive commands, we will go—unless he commands, we do not."

Major Lawrence was glad that the pressure thus placed upon him enabled him, without incurring a charge of favouritism, to place the command in the hands of the officer upon whom he most relied.

On the night of the 6th of April Clive set out; with a force composed of four hundred English, seven hundred Sepoys, three thousand Mahratta cavalry, a thousand Tanjore cavalry, six light guns and two heavy ones. Descending the river, he crossed the island at a point three miles to the east of Law's camping ground, and marched to Samieaveram, a town nine miles north of the island, and commanding the roads from the north and east.

The movement was just made in time. Dupleix, utterly disgusted with Law, had resolved to displace him. D'Auteuil, the only officer he had of sufficient high rank to take his place, had not, when previously employed, betrayed any great energy or capacity. It appeared, nevertheless, that he was at any rate superior to Law. On the 10th of April, therefore, he despatched D'Auteuil, with a hundred and twenty French, and five hundred Sepoys, with four guns and a large convoy, to Seringam, where he was to take the command. When he arrived within fifteen miles of Samieaveram, he learned that Clive had possession of that village, and he determined upon a circuitous route, by which he might avoid him. He therefore sent a messenger to Law, to acquaint him with his plans, in order that he might aid him by making a diversion.

Clive, in the meantime, had been at work. On the day after his arrival at Samieaveram, he attacked and captured the temple of Mansurpet, halfway between the village and the island. The temple was lofty, and stood on rising ground, and commanded a range of the country for many miles round.

On its top, Clive established a signal station. Upon the following day he carried the mud fort of Lalgudi, which was situated on the north bank of the river, two miles to the east of Paichandah, which now remained Law's only place of exit from the island.

D'Auteuil, after sending word to Law of his intentions, marched from Utatua, where he was lying, by a road to the west which would enable him to move round Samieaveram to Paichandah. Clive captured one of the messengers, and set off with his force to intercept him. D'Auteuil, however, received information by his spies of Clive's movement, and not wishing to fight a battle in the open, with a superior force, fell back to Utatua, while Clive returned to Samieaveram.

Law, too, had received news of Clive's movement. Here was a chance of retrieving the misfortunes of the campaign. Paichandah being still in his hands, he could sally out with his whole force and that of Chunda Sahib, seize Samieaveram in Clive's absence, and extend his hand to D'Auteuil, or fall upon Clive's rear. Instead of this, he repeated the mistake he had made before Trichinopoli; and, instead of marching out with his whole force, he sent only eighty Europeans, of whom forty were deserters from the English army, and seven hundred Sepoys.

The English returned from their march against D'Auteuil. The greater portion of the troops were housed in two temples, a quarter of a mile apart, known as the Large and Small Pagoda. Clive, with several of his officers, was in a caravansary close to the Small Pagoda.

Charlie's company were on guard, and after paying a visit to the sentries, and seeing that all were on the alert, he returned to the caravansary. The day had been a long one, and the march under the heat of the sun very fatiguing. There was therefore but little conversation, and Charlie, finding, on his return from visiting the sentries, that his leader and the other officers had already wrapped themselves in their cloaks and lain down to rest, imitated their example.

Half an hour later, the French column arrived at Samieaveram. The officer in command was a daring and determined man. Before reaching the place, he had heard that the English had returned; and, finding that he had been forestalled, he might well have returned to Law. He determined, however, to attempt to surprise the camp. He placed his deserters in front, and when the column, arriving near the Sepoy sentinel, was challenged, the officer in command of the deserters, an Irishman, stepped forward, and said that he had been sent by Major Lawrence to the support of Captain Clive. As the other English-speaking soldiers now came up, the sentry and native officer with him were completely deceived, and the latter sent a soldier to guide the column to the English quarter of the camp.

Without interruption, the column marched on through lines of sleeping Sepoys and Mahrattas until they reached the heart of the village. Here they were again challenged. They replied with a volley of musketry into the caravansary, and another into the pagoda. Then they rushed into the pagoda, bayoneting all they found there.

Charlie, who had just dropped off to sleep, sprang to his feet, as did the other officers. While, confused by the noise and suddenness of the attack, others scarcely understood what was happening, Clive's clear head and ready judgment grasped the situation at once.

"Gentlemen," he said calmly, "there is no firing going on in the direction of the Great Pagoda. Follow me there at once."

Snatching up their arms, the officers followed him at a run. The whole village was a scene of wild confusion. The firing round the pagoda and caravansary were continuous. The Mahratta horsemen were climbing into their saddles, and riding away out into the plain; the Sepoys were running hither and thither.

At the pagoda he found the soldiers turning out under arms, and Clive, ordering his officers to do their best to rally the native troops in good order against the enemy, at once moved forward towards the caravansary, with two hundred English troops. On arriving there, he found a large body of Sepoys firing away at random. Believing them to be his own men, for the French and English Sepoys were alike dressed in white, he halted the English a few yards from them, and rushed among them, upbraiding them for their panic, striking them, and ordering them instantly to cease firing, and to form in order.

One of the Sepoy officers recognized Clive to be an Englishman, struck at him, and wounded him with his sword. Clive, still believing him to be one of his own men, was furious at what he considered an act of insolent insubordination; and, seizing him, dragged him across to the Small Pagoda to hand him over, as he supposed, to the guard there. To his astonishment he found six Frenchmen at the gate, and these at once summoned him to surrender.

Great as was his surprise, he did not for a moment lose coolness, and at once told them that he had come to beg them to lay down their arms, that they were surrounded by his whole army, and that, unless they surrendered, his troops would give no quarter. So impressed were the Frenchmen with the firmness of the speaker that three of them at once surrendered, while the other three ran into the temple to inform their commander.

Clive took the three men who had surrendered, and returned to the English troops he had left near the caravansary. The French Sepoys had discovered that the English were enemies, and had moved quietly off.

Confusion still reigned. Clive did not imagine, for a moment, that so daring an assault could have been made on his camp by a small body of enemies, and expected every moment an attack by Law's whole force. The commander of the French, in the pagoda, was disturbed by the news brought in by the three men from the gate, and despatched eight of his most intelligent men to ascertain exactly what was going on.

These, however, fell into the hands of the English; and the officer of the party, not knowing that the Small Pagoda was in the hands of the French, handed them over to a sergeant, and told him to take a party and escort his eight prisoners, and the three Captain Clive had captured, to that pagoda for confinement there.

Upon arrival at the gate the Frenchmen at once joined their comrades, and these latter were also so bewildered at the affair, that they allowed the English sergeant and his guard to march off again, unmolested.

By this time, owing to the absence of all resistance elsewhere, Clive had learnt that the whole of the party who had entered the camp were in the Lesser Pagoda; and, as he was still expecting, momentarily, to be attacked by Law's main army, he determined to rid himself of this enemy in his midst. The pagoda was very strong, and only two men could enter abreast. Clive led his men to the attack, but so well did the French defend themselves that, after losing an officer and fifteen men, Clive determined to wait till morning.

The French officer, knowing that he was surrounded, and beyond the reach of all assistance, resolved upon cutting a way through, and at daylight his men sallied out from the temple. So fierce, however, was the fire with which the English received him, that twelve of his men were instantly killed, and the rest ran back into the temple.

Clive, hoping that their commander would now surrender without further effusion of blood, advanced to the gateway and entered the porch to offer terms. He was himself so faint, from the loss of blood from his wounds, that he could not stand alone, but leaned against a wall, supported by two sergeants. The officer commanding the deserters came out to parley, but, after heaping abuse upon Clive, levelled his musket and discharged it at him. He missed Clive, but killed the two sergeants who were supporting him.

The French officer in command, indignant at this conduct, rushed forward at once to disavow it; and stated that he had determined to defend the post to the last, solely for the sake of the deserters, but that the conduct of their officer had released him from that obligation, and he now therefore surrendered at once.

The instant day broke, and Clive saw that Law was not, as he expected, at hand, he despatched the Mahratta horse in pursuit of the French Sepoys. These were overtaken and cut to pieces, and not one man, of the force which Law had despatched against Clive returned to the island.

The English loss was heavy. The greater portion of the occupants of the Small Pagoda were bayoneted by the French, when they entered; and, as fifteen others were killed in the attack, it is probable that at least one-fourth of the English force under Clive were killed.

Clive's own escapes were extraordinary. In addition to those of being killed by the French Sepoys, among whom he ran by mistake, and of death at the hands of the treacherous deserter, he had one almost as close, when the French fired their volley into the caravansary. A box at his feet was shattered, and a servant who slept close to him was killed.

Some days passed, after this attack, without any fresh movement on either side. Major Lawrence then determined to drive back D'Auteuil. He did not despatch Clive against him, as this would involve the risk that Law might again march out to surprise Samieaveram. He therefore directed Clive to remain at that place and watch the island, while he sent a force of a hundred and fifty English, four hundred Sepoys, five hundred Mahrattas, with four guns, to attack D'Auteuil; from his own force, under Captain Dalton. This officer, in the advance, marched his troops near Samieaveram; and, making as much show with them as he could, impressed D'Auteuil with the idea that the force was that of Clive.

Accordingly, he broke up his camp at Utatua in the night, abandoned his stores, and retreated hastily upon Valconda. Dalton then marched to Samieaveram, and placed his force at Clive's disposal; and, to prevent any disputes arising as to precedence and rank, offered himself to serve under him as a volunteer.

Not only D'Auteuil, but Law, was deceived by Dalton's march. From the lofty towers of Seringam he saw the force marching towards Utatua, believed that Clive with his whole force had left Samieaveram, and did now what he should have before done—crossed the river with all his troops.

Clive's lookout on the temple of Mansurpet perceived what was going on, and signalled the news to Clive, who at once set out with his whole force; and, before Law was prepared to issue out from Paichandah, Clive was within a mile of that place. Law might still have fought with a fair chance of success, as he was far stronger than his enemy, but he was again the victim of indecision and want of energy, and, covered by Paichandah, he fell back across the river again.

On the 15th of May Clive captured Paichandah, and then determined to give a final blow to D'Auteuil's force; which had, he learned, again set out to endeavour to relieve Law. He marched to Utatua to intercept him.

D'Auteuil, hearing of his coming, instantly fell back again to Valconda. The native chief of this town, however, seeing that the affairs of the French were desperate; and willing, like all his countrymen, to make his peace with the strongest, had already accepted bribes from the English; and upon D'Auteuil's return, closed the gates and refused to admit him. Clive soon arrived, and D'Auteuil, caught between two fires, surrendered with his whole force.

Had Law been a man of energy, he had yet a chance of escape. He had still seven or eight hundred French troops with him, two thousand Sepoys, and four thousand of Chunda Sahib's troops. He might, then, have easily crossed the Kavari at night and fallen upon Lawrence, whose force there now was greatly inferior to his own. Chunda Sahib, in vain, begged him to do so. His hesitation continued until, three days after the surrender of D'Auteuil, a battering train reached Lawrence; whereupon Law at once surrendered, his chief stipulation being that the life of Chunda Sahib should be spared.

This promise was not kept. The unfortunate prince had preferred to surrender to the Rajah of Tanjore, who had several times intrigued secretly with him, rather than to Muhammud Ali or the English, whom he regarded as his implacable enemies. Had he placed himself in our hands, his life would have been safe. He was murdered, by the treacherous rajah, within twenty-four hours of his surrender.

With the fall of Seringam terminated the contest for the supremacy of the Carnatic, between the English and French, fighting respectively on behalf of their puppets, Muhammud Ali and Chunda Sahib. This stage of the struggle was not a final one; but both by its circumstances, and by the prestige which we acquired in the eyes of the natives, it gave us a moral ascendency which, even when our fortunes were afterwards at their worst, was never lost again.

Muhammud Ali had, himself, gained but little in the struggle. He was, indeed, nominally ruler of the Carnatic, but he had to rely for his position solely on the support of the English bayonets. Indeed, the promises, of which he had been obliged to be lavish to his native allies, to keep them faithful to his cause, when that cause seemed all but lost, now came upon him to trouble him; and so precarious was his position, that he was obliged to ask the English to leave two hundred English troops, and fifteen hundred of their Sepoys, to protect the place against Murari Reo, and the Rajahs of Mysore and Tanjore.

The fatigues of the expedition had been great and, when the force reached the seacoast, Major Lawrence was forced to retire to Fort Saint David to recover his health; while Clive, whose health had now greatly broken down, betook himself to Madras; which had, when the danger of invasion by the French was at an end, become the headquarters of the government of the presidency.

There were, however, two French strongholds dangerously near to Madras, Covelong and Chengalpatt. Two hundred recruits had just arrived from England, and five hundred natives had been enlisted as Sepoys. Mr. Saunders begged Clive to take the command of these, and reduce the two fortresses. He took with him two twenty-four pounders, and four officers, of whom two were Charlie Marryat and Peters; to both of whom Clive was much attached, owing to their courage, readiness, and good humour.

Covelong was first attacked. It mounted thirty guns, and was garrisoned by fifty French, and three hundred Sepoys.

"I don't like the look o' things, Mr. Charles," Tim Kelly said. "There's nothing but boys altogether, white and black. Does it stand to reason that a lot of gossoons, who haven't learnt the goose step, and haven't as much as a shred of faith, ayther in themselves or their officers, are fit to fight the French?"

"Oh, I don't know, Tim," Charlie said. "Boys are just as plucky as men, in their way, and are ready to do all sorts of foolhardy things, which men would hesitate to attempt."

"And that is so, Mr. Charles, when they've only other boys to dale with; but as they're growing up, they take some time before they're quite sure they're a match for men. That's what it is, yer honor, I tell ye, and you will see it, soon."

Tim's predictions were speedily verified. The very morning after they arrived before the fort, the garrison made a sally, fell upon the troops, and killed one of their officers.

The whole of the new levies took to their heels, and fled away from the fight. Clive, with his three officers, threw himself among them and, for some time, in vain attempted to turn the tide. It was not, indeed, until several had been cut down that the rout was arrested, and they were brought back to their duty.

A day or two later a shot, striking a rock, killed or wounded fourteen men; and excited such a panic, that it was some time before the rest would venture near the front.

The enemy, with a considerable force, marched from Chengalpatt to relieve the place. Clive left half his force to continue the siege, and with the rest marched out and offered battle to the relieving force. Daring and confidence, as usual, prevailed. Had the enemy attacked, there is little doubt they would have put Clive's raw levies to flight. They were, however, cowed by his attitude of defiance, and retreated hastily.

The governor of Covelong at once lost heart and surrendered the place; which he might have maintained, for months, against the force before it; and on the fourth day of the siege, capitulated.

A few hours afterwards the enemy from Chengalpatt, ignorant of the fall of the fort, again advanced; and Clive met them with his whole force. Taken by surprise, they suffered heavily. Clive pursued them to the gates of their fort, to which he at once laid siege.

Fortunately for the English, the commander of this place, like him of Covelong, was cowardly and incapable. Had it not been so, the fort, which was very strong, well provisioned, and well garrisoned, might have held out for an indefinite time. As it was, it surrendered on the fourth day, and Clive took possession on the 31st of August.

He returned to Madras, and there, a short time afterwards, married Miss Maskelyne. Finding his health, however, continuing to deteriorate, he sailed for Europe in February, 1753. It was but five years since he had first taken up arms to defend Fort Saint David, an unknown clerk, without prospects and without fortune, utterly discontented and disheartened.

Madras was in the hands of the French. Everywhere their policy was triumphant, and the soil surrounded by the walls of Saint David's, alone, remained to the English in Southern India. In the five years which had elapsed, all had changed. The English were masters of the Carnatic. The French were broken and discredited. The English were regarded by the natives throughout the country as the coming power; and of this great change, no slight portion was due to the energy and genius of Clive, himself.



Chapter 11: An Important Mission.

A few days after the return of the expedition against Covelong and Chengalpatt, Charlie received a note from Governor Saunders, requesting him to call upon him at eleven o'clock. Charlie, of course, attended at Government House at the time named, and found Captain Clive with Mr. Saunders.

"I have sent for you, Mr. Marryat, to ask you if you are ready to undertake a delicate, and somewhat dangerous, mission. Captain Clive tells me that he is convinced that you will be able to discharge the duties satisfactorily. He has been giving me the highest report of your conduct and courage, and he tells me that you speak the language with some facility."

"I have been working hard, sir," Charlie said, "and have had a moonshee for the last year; and as, except when on duty, I have spoken nothing but the native language with him, I can now speak it almost as fluently as I can English."

"So Captain Clive has been telling me," Mr. Saunders said; "and it is, indeed, on that ground that I select you for the service. Your friend Mr. Peters has equally distinguished himself in the field, Captain Clive tells me, but he is greatly your inferior in his knowledge of the vernacular."

This was indeed the case. Peters had but little natural aptitude for foreign languages; and after working hard, for a time, with the moonshee, he found that he was making so little progress, in comparison with Charlie, that he lost heart; and although he had continued his lessons with the moonshee, he had done so only to the extent of an hour or so a day, whereas Charlie had devoted his whole leisure time to the work.

"The facts of the case are these, Mr. Marryat. Owing to the failure, of Muhammud Ali, to fulfil the ridiculously onerous terms extorted from him, by some of his native allies, during the siege of Trichinopoli, several of them are in a state of discontent, which is likely soon to break out into open hostilities. The Rajahs of Mysore and Tanjore are, I have learned, already in communication with Pondicherry; and will, I believe, shortly acknowledge the son of Chunda Sahib, whom Dupleix has declared ruler of the Carnatic. Murari Reo has already openly joined the French. Their influence in the Deccan is now so great that Bussy may be said to rule there.

"Now, there is a chief named Boorhau Reo, whose territory lies among the hills, and extends from the plain nearly up to the plateau land of the Deccan. His position, like that of many of the other small rajahs, is precarious. In days like the present, when might makes right, and every petty state tries to make profit out of the constant wars, at the expense of its neighbour, the position of a chief, surrounded by half a dozen others more powerful than himself, is by no means pleasant. Boorhau Reo feels that he is in danger of being swallowed, by the nizam or by the Mahrattas, and he earnestly desires to ally himself with us; believing, as he says, that we are destined to be masters here. I have assured him that, although gratified at his expressions of friendship, we can enter into no alliance with him. The position of his territory would enable him to be of great assistance to us, in any war in which the whole force of the Deccan, controlled as it is at present at Bussy, might be utilized against us in the Carnatic. He would be able to harass convoys, cut communications, and otherwise trouble the enemy's movements. But, although we see that his aid would be very useful to us, in case of such a war; we do not see how, on our part, we could give him any protection. We have now, with the greatest difficulty, brought affairs to a successful conclusion in the Carnatic; but Dupleix is active and energetic, and well supported at home. Many of the chiefs lately our allies have, as I have just said, declared against us, or are about to do so; and it is out of the question, for us to think of supporting a chief so far removed from us as Boorhau. I have, therefore, told him that we greatly desire his friendship, but are at present powerless to protect him, should he be attacked by his northern neighbours.

"He is particularly anxious to train his men after the European fashion, as he sees that our Sepoys are a match for five times their number of the untrained troops of the Indian princes.

"This brings me to the subject before us. I have written to him, to say that I will send to him an English officer, capable of training and leading his troops, and whose advice may be useful to him upon all occasions; but that as, were it known that he had received a British officer, and was employing him to train his troops, it would excite the instant animosity of Bussy and of the Peishwar; I should send one familiar with the language, and who may pass as a native. Captain Clive has strongly recommended you for this difficult mission."

"I fear, sir, that I could hardly pass as a native. The moonshee is constantly correcting mistakes which I make, in speaking."

"That may be so," Mr. Saunders said; "but there are a score of dialects in Southern India, and you could be passed upon nineteen of the twenty peoples who speak them, as belonging to one of the other."

"If you think, sir, that I shall do," Charlie said; "I shall be glad to undertake the mission."

"Very well, Mr. Marryat, that is understood, then. You will receive full instructions in writing, and will understand that your duty is not only to drill the troops of this chief; but to give him such advice as may suit his and our interests; to strengthen his good feeling towards us; and to form, as far as possible, a compact little force which might, at a critical moment, be of immense utility. You will, of course, master the geography of the country, of which we are all but absolutely ignorant; find out about the passes, the mountain paths, the defensible positions. All these things may someday be of the highest importance.

"You will have a few days to make your arrangements, and settle as to the character you will adopt. This you had better do, in consultation with someone who thoroughly understands the country. It is intended that you shall go down to Trichinopoli, with the next convoy; and from there make your way to the stronghold of Boorhau."

"Shall I take any followers with me?"

"Yes," Mr. Saunders said. "As you will go in the character of a military adventurer, who has served among our Sepoys long enough to learn European drill, you had better take two, three, or four men, as you like, with you as retainers. You might pick out two or three trusty men, from the Sepoys you command."

Charlie left Government House in high spirits. It was certainly an honor, to have been selected for such a post. It was quite possible that it would be a dangerous one. It was sure to be altogether different from the ordinary life of a subaltern in the Company's army.

Peters was very sorry when he heard from Charlie that they were, at last, to be separated. It was now nearly two years since they had first met on board the Lizzie Anderson; and, since that time, they had been constantly together, and were greatly attached to each other.

Charlie, perhaps, had taken the lead. The fact of his having a stock of firearms, and being able to lend them to Peters, had given him, perhaps, the first slight and almost imperceptible advantage. His feat of jumping overboard, to rescue Tim Kelly, had been another step in advance; and, although Charlie would have denied it himself, there was no doubt that he generally took the lead, and that his friend was accustomed to lean upon him, and to look to him always for the initiative. It was, therefore, a severe blow to Peters, to find that Charlie was about to be sent on detached service.

As for Tim Kelly, he was uproarious in his grief, when he heard that he was to be separated from his master.

"Shure, Mr. Charlie, ye'll never have the heart to lave a poor boy, that sarved ye be night and day for eighteen months. Tim Kelly would gladly give his life for ye, and ye wouldn't go and lave him behind ye, and go all alone among these black thaves of the world."

"But it is impossible that I can take you, Tim," Charlie said. "You know, yourself, that you cannot speak ten words of the language. How then could you possibly pass undetected, whatever disguise you put on?"

"But I'd never open my mouth at all, at all, yer honor, barring for mate and drink."

"It's all very well for you to say so, Tim," Charlie answered; "but I do not think that anything, short of a miracle, would silence your tongue. But leave us now, Tim, and I will talk the matter over with Mr. Peters. I should be glad enough to have you with me, if we could arrange it."

The moonshee was taken into their counsels, and was asked his opinion as to the disguise which Charlie could adopt, with least risk of detection. The moonshee replied that he might pass as a Bheel. These hill tribes speak a dialect quite distinct from that of the people around them, and the moonshee said that, if properly attired, Charlie would be able to pass anywhere for one of these people; provided, always, that he did not meet with another of the same race.

"You might assert," he said, "that your father had taken service with some rajah on the plain, and that you had there learned to speak the language. In this way, you would avoid having to answer any difficult questions regarding your native place; but as to that, you can get up something of the geography before you leave."

"There are several Bheels among our Sepoys," Charlie said. "I can pick out three or four of them, who would be just the men for me to take. I believe they are generally very faithful, and attached to their officers."

When Tim again entered the room, he inquired anxiously if his master hit upon any disguise which would suit him.

"What do you say, Mr. Moonshine?" Tim said.

The moonshee shook his head. Between these two a perpetual feud had existed, ever since the native had arrived at Arcot, to take his place as a member of Charlie's establishment. In obedience to Charlie's stringent orders, Tim never was openly rude to him; but he never lost an opportunity of making remarks, of a disparaging nature, as to the value of Charlie's studies.

The moonshee, on his part, generally ignored Tim's existence altogether; addressing him, when obliged to do so, with a ceremonious civility which annoyed Tim more than open abuse would have done.

"I think," he said gravely, in reply to Tim's demand; "that the very worshipful one would have most chance of escaping detection if he went in rags, throwing dust on his hair, and passing for one afflicted."

"And what does he mean by afflicted, Mr. Charles?" the Irishman said wrathfully, as the two young officers laughed.

"He means one who is a born fool, Tim."

Tim looked furiously at the moonshee.

"It would," the latter said sententiously, "be the character which the worshipful one would support with the greatest ease."

"The black thief is making fun of me," Tim muttered; "but I'll be aven with him one of these days, or my name isn't Tim Kelly.

"I was thinking, yer honor, that I might represent one deaf and dumb."

"But you're always talking, Tim, and when you're not talking to others, you talk to yourself. It's quite impossible you could go as a dumb man; but you might go, as the moonshee suggests, as a half-witted sort of chap; with just sense enough to groom a horse and look after him, but with not enough to understand what's said to you, or to answer any questions."

"I could do that asy enough, Mr. Charles."

"And you have to keep from quarrelling, Tim. I hear you quarrelling, on an average, ten times a day; and as, in such a character as we're talking about, you would, of course, be exposed to all sorts of slights and unpleasantnesses, you would be in continual hot water."

"Now, yer honor," Tim said reproachfully, "you're too hard on me, entirely. I like a bit of a row as well as any many, but it's all for divarsion; and I could go on, for a year, without quarrelling with a soul. Just try me, Mr. Charles. Just try me for a month, and if, at the end of that time, you find me in your way; or that I don't keep my character, then send me back agin to the regiment."

It was arranged that the moonshee should remain with Peters, who, seeing that Charlie owed his appointment, to a post which promised excitement and adventure, to his skill in the native languages, was determined that he would again set to, in earnest, and try and master its intricacies. The moonshee went down to the bazaar, and purchased the clothes which would be necessary for the disguises; and Charlie found, in his company, four Sepoys who willingly agreed to accompany him, in the character of his retainers, upon his expedition. As to their costume, there was no difficulty. When off duty, the Sepoys in the Company's service were accustomed to dress in their native attire. Consequently, it needed only the addition of a tulwar, or short curved sword; a shield, thrown over one shoulder; a long matchlock; and two or three pistols and daggers, stuck into a girdle, to complete their equipment.

Charlie himself was dressed gaily, in the garb of a military officer in the service of an Indian rajah. He was to ride, and a horse, saddle, and gay housings were procured. He had, at last, given in to Tim's entreaties; and that worthy was dressed as a syce, or horse keeper.

Both Charlie and Tim had had those portions of their skin exposed to the air darkened, and both would pass muster, at a casual inspection. Charlie, in thus concealing his nationality, desired only to hide the fact that he was an officer in the Company's service. He believed that it would be impossible for him to continue to pass as a Bheel. This, however, would be of no consequence, after a time. Many of the native princes had Europeans in their service. Runaway sailors, deserters from the English, French, and Dutch armed forces in their possessions on the seacoast, adventurers influenced either by a love of a life of excitement, or whom a desire to escape the consequences of folly or crime committed at home had driven to a roving life—such men might be found in many of the native courts.

Once settled, then, in the service of the rajah, Charlie intended to make but little farther pretence, or secrecy, as to his nationality. Outwardly, he would still conform to the language and appearance of the character he had chosen; but he would allow it to be supposed that he was an Englishman, a deserter from the Company's service, and that his comrades were Sepoys in a similar position. His employment, then, at the court of the rajah, would have an effect the exact reverse of that which it would have done, had he appeared in his proper character.

Deserters were, of all men, the most opposed to their countrymen, to whom they had proved traitors. In battle they could be relied upon to fight desperately, for they fought with ropes round their necks. Therefore, while the appearance of an English officer, as instructor of the forces of the rajah, would have drawn upon himself the instant hostility of all opposed to the British; the circulation of a report that his troops were being disciplined by some English and native deserters, from the Company's forces, would excite no suspicion whatever.

To avoid attracting attention, Charlie Marryat and his party set out before daylight from Madras. Their appearance, indeed, would have attracted no attention, when they once had passed beyond the boundaries of the portion of the town occupied by the whites. In the native quarter, the appearance of a small zemindar, or landowner, attended by four or five armed followers on foot, was of such common occurrence as to attract no attention whatever; and, indeed, numbers of these come in to take service in the Sepoy regiments, the profession of arms being always considered honorable, in India.

For a fortnight they travelled, by easy stages, without question or suspicion being excited that they were not what they seemed. They were now among the hills, and soon arrived at Ambur, the seat of the rajah. The town was a small one, and above it rose the fortress, which stood on a rock rising sheer from the bottom of the valley, and standing boldly out from the hillside. The communication was effected by a shoulder which, starting from a point halfway up the rock, joined the hill behind it. Along this shoulder were walls and gateways. An enemy attacking these would be exposed to the fire from the summit of the rock. From the point where the shoulder joined the rock, a zigzag road had been cut, with enormous labour, in the face of the rock, to the summit.

"It is a strong place," Charlie said to Tim Kelly, who was walking by his horse's head; "and should be able to hold out against anything but starvation. That is to say, if properly defended."

"It's a powerful place, surely," Tim said; "and would puzzle the ould boy himself to take. Even Captain Clive, who is afeard of nothing, would be bothered by it."

As they rode up the valley, two horsemen were seen spurring towards them, from the town. They drew rein before Charlie; and one, bowing, said:

"My master, the rajah, sends his greeting to you, and begs to know if you are the illustrious soldier, Nadir Ali, for whom his heart has been longing."

"Will you tell your lord that Nadir Ali is here," Charlie said, "and that he longs to see the face of the rajah."

One of the horsemen at once rode off, and the other took his place by the side of Charlie; and, having introduced himself as captain of the rajah's bodyguard, rode with him through the town.

Had Charlie appeared in his character as English officer, the rajah and all his troops would have turned out to do honor to his arrival. As it was, a portion of the garrison, only, appeared at the gate and lined the walls. Through these the little party passed, and up the sharp zigzags, which were so steep that, had it not been that his dignity prevented him from dismounting, Charlie would gladly have got off and proceeded on foot; for it was as much as the animal could do, to struggle up the steep incline.

At each turn there was a gateway, with little flanking towers; on which jingalls, or small wall pieces, commanded the road.

"Faith, then, it's no fool that built this place. I shouldn't like to have to attack it, wid all the soldiers of the King's army, let alone those of the Company."

"It is tremendously strong, Tim, but it is astonishing what brave men can do."

In the after wars which England waged, in India, the truth of what Charlie said was over and over again proved. Numerous fortresses, supposed by the natives to be absolutely impregnable, and far exceeding in strength that just described, have been carried by assault, by the dash and daring of English troops.

They gained, at last, the top of the rock. It was uneven in surface, some portions being considerably more elevated than others. Roughly, its extent was about a hundred yards, either way. The lower level was covered with buildings, occupied by the garrison, and storehouses. On the upper level, some forty feet higher, stood the palace of the rajah. It communicated with the courtyard, below, by a broad flight of steps. These led to an arched gateway, with a wall and battlements; forming an interior line of defence, should an assailant gain a footing in the lower portion of the stronghold.

Alighting from his horse at the foot of the steps, Charlie, followed by his five retainers, mounted to the gateway. Here another guard of honor was drawn up. Passing through these, they entered a shady courtyard, on one side of which was a stone pavilion. The flat ceiling was supported by massive columns, closely covered with intricate sculpture. The roof was arabesqued with deeply cut patterns, picked out in bright colours. A fountain played in the middle.

On the farther side the floor, which was of marble, was raised; and two steps led to a wide recess, with windows of lattice stonework, giving a view over the town and valley below. In this recess were piles of cushions and carpets, and here reclined the rajah, a spare and active-looking man, of some forty years old. He rose, as Charlie approached, the soldiers and Sepoys remaining beyond the limits of the pavilion.

"Welcome, brave Nadir Ali," he said courteously; "my heart is glad, indeed, at the presence of one whose wisdom is said to be far beyond his years, and who has learned the arts of war of the infidels from beyond the seas."

Then, inviting Charlie to take a seat on the divan with him, he questioned him as to his journey, and the events which were taking place in the plains; until the attendants, having handed round refreshments, retired at his signal.

"I am glad to see you, Sahib," he said, when they were alone; "though, in truth, I looked for one older than yourself. The great English governor of Madras tells me, however, in a letter which I received four days since, that you are skilled in war; that you fought by the side of that great Captain Clive at Arcot, Arni, Kavaripak, and at Trichinopoli; and that the great warrior, himself, chose you to come to me. Therefore, I doubt neither your valour nor your prudence, and put myself in your hands, wholly.

"The governor has already told you, doubtless, of the position in which I am placed here."

"Governor Saunders explained the whole position to me," Charlie said. "You are, at present, menaced on all sides by powerful neighbours. You believe that the fortunes of the English are on the increase; and as you think the time may come, ere long, when they will turn the French out of the Deccan, and become masters there, as they have already become masters in the Carnatic, you wish to fight by their side, and share their fortunes. In the meantime, you desire to be able to defend yourself against your neighbours; for, at present, the English are too far away to assist you.

"To enable you to do this, I have been sent to drill and discipline your troops, like our Sepoys; and to give you such advice as may be best, for the general defence of your country. I have brought with me five soldiers; four Bheels, and one of my countrymen. The latter will be of little use in drilling your troops, for he is ignorant of the language, and has come as my personal attendant. The other four will assist me in my work.

"Your followers here will, no doubt, discover in a very short time that I am an Englishman. Let it be understood that I am a deserter, that I have been attracted to your court by the promise of high pay, and that I have assumed the character of a Bheel, lest my being here might put you on bad terms with the English."

Charlie then asked the rajah as to the strength of his military force.

"In time of peace," the rajah said, "I keep three hundred men under arms. In case of taking the field, three thousand. To defend Ambur against an attack of an enemy, I could muster ten thousand men."

"You could not call out three thousand men, without attracting the attention of your neighbours?" Charlie asked.

"No," the rajah said; "that would bring my neighbours upon me, at once."

"I suppose, however, you might assemble another five hundred men, without attracting attention."

"Oh, yes," the rajah said; "eight hundred men are not a force which could attract any great attention."

"Then I should propose that we begin with eight hundred," Charlie said. "For a month, however, I will confine myself to the troops you at present have. We must, in the first place, train some officers. If you will pick out those to whom you intend to give commands, and subcommands; I will choose from the men, after drilling them for a few days, forty of the most intelligent as what we call noncommissioned officers.

"For the first month, we will work hard in teaching these officers and sub-officers their duties. Then, when the whole eight hundred assemble, we can divide them into four parties. There will be one of my drill instructors to each party, ten under officers, and four or five of the officers whom you will appoint. Six weeks' hard work should make these eight hundred men fairly acquainted with drill. The English Sepoys have often gone out to fight, with less. At the end of the six weeks, let the five hundred men you have called out, in addition to your bodyguard of three hundred, return to their homes; and replace them by an equal number of fresh levies, and so proceed until you have your three thousand fighting men, thoroughly trained. In nine months, all will have had their six weeks of exercise, and could take their places in the ranks again, at a day's notice.

"Two hundred of your men I will train in artillery; although I do not belong to that branch of the service, I learned the duties at Arcot."

The rajah agreed, heartily, to Charlie's proposals; well pleased at the thought that he should, before the end of a year, be possessed of a trained force, which would enable him to hold his own against his powerful neighbours, until an opportunity might occur when, in alliance with the English, he should be able to turn the tables upon them, and to aggrandize himself at their expense.



Chapter 12: A Murderous Attempt.

Handsome rooms, with a suite of attendants, were assigned to Charlie in the rajah's palace; and he was formally appointed commander of his forces. The four Sepoys were appointed to junior ranks, as was also Tim Kelly; who, however, insisted on remaining in the position of chief attendant upon his master; being, in fact, a sort of majordomo and valet in one, looking after his comforts when in the palace, and accompanying him as personal guard whenever he rode out.

"You niver know, yer honor, what these natives may be up to. They'll smile with you one day, and stab ye the next. They're treacherous varmint, yer honor, if you do but give 'em the chance."

At first, Charlie perceived that his position excited some jealousy in the minds of those surrounding the rajah. He therefore did all in his power to show to them that he, in no way, aspired to interfere in the internal politics or affairs of the little state—that he was a soldier and nothing more. He urged upon the rajah, who wished to have him always by him, that it was far better that he should appear to hold aloof, and to avoid all appearance of favouritism, or of a desire to obtain dominance in the counsels of the rajah. He wished that the appointments to the posts of officers in the new force should be made by the rajah, who should lend an ear to the advice of his usual councillors; but that, once appointed, they should be under his absolute command and control, and that he should have power to dismiss those who proved themselves indolent and incapable, to promote active and energetic men, wholly regardless of influence or position.

The next morning, Charlie and his four assistants set to work to drill the three hundred men of the garrison, taking them in parties of twenty. They were thus able, in the course of a few days, to pick out the most active and intelligent for the sub-officers; and these, with the existing officers of the body, and the new ones appointed by the rajah, were at once taken in hand to be taught their duty.

For a month, the work went on steadily and without interruption, and from morn till night the courtyard echoed with the words of command. At the end of that time, the twenty officers and forty sub-officers had fairly learned their duty. The natives of India are very quick in learning drill, and a regiment of newly-raised Sepoys will perform manoeuvres and answer to words of command, in the course of a fortnight, as promptly and regularly as would one of English recruits in three months.

A good many changes had taken place during the month's work. Many of the officers became disgusted with hard and continuous work, to which they were unaccustomed, while some of the sub-officers showed a deficiency of the quickness and intelligence needed for the work. Their places, however, were easily filled, and as the days went on, all took an increasing degree of interest, as they acquired facility of movement, and saw how quickly, according to the European methods, manoeuvres were gone through. At the end of a month, then, the sixty men were able in turn to instruct others; and, a body of five hundred men being called out, the work of drilling on a large scale began.

The drill ground now was a level space in the valley below the town, and the whole population assembled, day after day, to look on with astonishment at the exercises. The four great companies, or battalions, as Charlie called them, were kept entirely separate, each under the command of one of the Sepoys, under whom were a proportion of the officers and sub-officers. Every evening, Charlie came down for an hour, and put each body through its drill, distributing blame or praise as it was deserved, thus keeping up a spirit of emulation between the battalions. At the end of a fortnight, when the simpler manoeuvres had been learned, Charlie, for two hours each day, worked the whole together as one regiment; and was surprised, himself, to find how rapid was the progress which each day effected.

The rajah himself often came down to the drill ground, and took the highest interest in the work. He himself would fain have had regular uniforms, similar to those worn by the Sepoys in the service of the European powers, provided for the men; but Charlie strongly urged him not to do so. He admitted that the troops would look immensely better, if clad in regular uniform; than as a motley band, each dressed according to his own fancy. He pointed out, however, that while the news that the rajah was having some of his men drilled by European deserters would attract but little attention among his neighbours, the report that he was raising Sepoy battalions would certainly be received by them in a hostile spirit.

"By all means," Charlie said, "get the uniforms made for the whole force, and keep them by you in store. They can be at once served out in case of war, and the sight of a number of Sepoy battalions, where they expected only to meet an irregular force, will have an immense effect upon any force opposed to you."

The rajah saw the force of this argument, and at once ordered five thousand suits of white uniforms, similar to those worn by the Sepoys in the English and French service, to be made and stored up in the magazines.

While his lieutenants were drilling the main body, Charlie himself took in hand a party of forty picked men, and instructed them in the use of field guns. The superiority of Europeans in artillery was one of the reasons which gave to them such easy victory, in their early battles with the native forces in India. The latter possessed a very powerful artillery, in point of numbers, but there was no regular drill nor manner of loading. They were in the habit, too, of allowing each gun to cool after it was fired, before being loaded again. It was thought, therefore, good practice if a gun were discharged once in a quarter of an hour. They were, then, utterly astounded and dismayed at the effects of the European guns, each of which could be loaded and fired twice, or even three times, a minute.

So month passed after month, until Rajah Boorhau was in a position to put, if necessary, five battalions of Sepoys, each seven hundred strong, into the field; with thirty guns, served by trained artillerymen. So quietly had the work gone on, that it attracted no attention among his neighbours. The mere rumour that the rajah had some European deserters in his service, and that these were drilling four or five hundred men, was considered of so little moment that it passed altogether unheeded.

The accounts of the state of affairs in the Carnatic, which reached Charlie, were not satisfactory—Dupleix, with his usual energy, was aiding the son of Chunda Sahib, with men and money, in his combat with the British protege; and most of the native allies of the latter had fallen away from him. Trichinopoli was again besieged, and the fortunes of England, lately so flourishing, were waning again. In the Deccan, French influence was supreme. Bussy, with a strong and well-disciplined French force, maintained Salabut Jung, whom the French had placed on the throne, against all opponents. At one time it was the Peishwar, at another the Mahrattas against whom Bussy turned his arms; and always with success, and the French had acquired the four districts on the coast, known as the Northern Sircas.

It was in vain that Charlie endeavoured to gain an accurate knowledge of the political position, so quickly and continually did this change. At one time the Peishwar and the Nizam, as the Subadar of the Deccan was now called, would be fighting in alliance against one or other of the Mahratta chiefs. At another time they would be in conflict with each other, while the Rajah of Mysore, Murari Reo, and other chiefs were sometimes fighting on one side, sometimes on another.

Proud of his rapidly increasing force, Boorhau Reo would, more than once in the course of the year, have joined in the warfare going on around. Charlie, however, succeeded in restraining him from doing so; pointing out that the victor of one day was the vanquished of the next, and that it was worse than useless to join in a struggle of which the conditions were so uncertain, and the changes of fortune so rapid, that none could count upon others for aid, however great the assistance they might have rendered only a short time before.

"Were you to gain territory, Rajah, which you might, perhaps, largely do, from the efficient aid which you might render to one party or the other, you would be the object of a hostile combination against which you could not hope to struggle."

The rajah yielded at once to Charlie's arguments; but the influence of the latter added to the hostility, which the favour shown him by the rajah had provoked, among many of the leading men of the state. Where the sides were often so closely balanced as was the case in these intestine struggles, the aid of every rajah, however small his following, was sought by one or other of the combatants; and the counsellors of those able to place a respectable force in the field were heavily bribed, by one side or the other. Those around Rajah Boorhau found their efforts completely baffled by the influence of the English commander of his forces, and a faction of increasing strength and power was formed to overthrow him. The rajah himself had kept his secret well, and one or two, only, of his advisers knew that the Englishman was a trusted agent of the Company.

The soldiers were much attached to their English leader. They found him always just and firm. Complaints were always listened to, tyranny or ill treatment by the officers suppressed and punished, merit rewarded. Among the officers the strictness of the discipline alienated many, who contrasted the easy life which they had led before the introduction of the European system, with that which they now endured. So long as they were engaged in mastering the rudiments of drill they felt their disadvantage; but when this was acquired, each thought himself capable of taking the place of the English adventurer, and of leading the troops he had organized to victory. Already, Charlie had received several anonymous warnings that danger threatened him. The rajah was, he knew, his warm friend; and he, in his delight at seeing the formidable force which had been formed from his irregular levies, had presented him, as a token of his gratitude, with large sums of money.

In those days, this was the method by which Indian princes rewarded European officers who rendered them service, and it was considered by no means derogatory to the latter to accept the money. This was, indeed, the universal custom, and Charlie, knowing that Captain Clive had received large presents of this kind, had no hesitation in following his example. The treasures stored up by many of these Indian princes were immense, and a lac of rupees, equivalent to ten thousand pounds, was considered by no means a large present. Charlie, foreseeing that, sooner or later, the little state would become involved in hostilities, took the precaution of forwarding the money he had received down to Madras; sending it piecemeal, in charge of native merchants and traders. It was, by these, paid into the Madras treasury, where a large rate of interest, for all monies lent by its employees, was given by the Company.

For those at home he felt no uneasiness. It was very seldom that their letters reached him; but he learned that they were still in high favour with his uncle, that his mother continued installed at the head of the house, and that the girls were both at excellent schools.