Half an hour later, the lattice above opened. They heard a murmur of voices, and then all was quiet again. After a few minutes, Charlie climbed noiselessly up the ladder and, just as he reached the top, an arm was stretched out above him; and, a moment afterwards, Ada's face appeared.

"I am here, dear," he said, in a whisper. "Lean out, and I will take you."

The girl stretched out over the window. Charlie took her in his arms, and lifted her lightly out, and then slowly descended the ladder. No sooner did he touch the ground than they hurried away; Ada sobbing, with excitement and pleasure, on Charlie's shoulder; Tim and Hossein bearing the ladder; Hossein having already carried out his promise of concealing the second bracelet under the window.

In a few minutes they had safely surmounted the wall, and hurried across the country, with all speed. Before leaving the town, Hossein had purchased a cart with two bullocks; and had hired a man who was recommended to him, by one of his co-religionists there, as one upon whose fidelity he could rely. This cart was awaiting them at a grove.

Paying them the amount stipulated, Hossein took the ox goad and started the bullocks, Tim walking beside him, while Charlie and Ada took their places in the cart. They were sure that a hot pursuit would be set up. The rage of the nabob at the escape of Charlie and his servant had been extreme, and the whole country had been scoured by parties of horsemen; and they were sure that the rajah would use every possible means to discover Ada, before he ventured to report to the nabob that the prisoner committed to his charge had escaped.

"Of course, I can't see you very well," Ada said, "but I should not have known you, in the least."

"No, I am got up like a peasant," Charlie answered. "We shall have to dress you so, before morning. We have got things here for you."

"Oh, how delighted I was," Ada exclaimed, "when I got your note! I found it so difficult to keep on looking sad and hopeless, when I could have sung for joy. I had been so miserable. There seemed no hope, and they said, some day, I should be sent to the nabob's zenana—wretches! How poor mamma will be grieving for me, and papa!—

"Ah! Captain Marryat, he is dead, is he not?"

"Yes, my dear," Charlie said gently. "He was killed by my side, that afternoon. With his last breath, he asked me to take care of you."

"I thought so," Ada said, crying quietly. "I did not think of it at the time. Everything was so strange, and so dreadful, that I scarcely thought at all. But afterwards, on the way here, when I turned it all over, it seemed to me that it must be so. He did not come to me, all that afternoon. He was not shut up with us in that dreadful place, and everyone else was there. So it seemed to me that he must have been killed, but that you did not like to tell me."

"It was better for him, dear, than to have died in that terrible cell. Thank God your mamma is safe, and some day you will join her again.

"We have news that the English are coming up to attack Calcutta. A party are already in the Hoogly; and the nabob is going to start, in a few days, to his army there. I hope, in a very very short time, you will be safe among your friends."

After travelling for several hours, they stopped. Charlie gave Ada some native clothes and ornaments, and told her to stain her face, arms, and legs, to put on the bangles and bracelets, and then to rejoin them. Half an hour later, Ada took her seat in the cart, this time transformed into a Hindoo girl, and the party again proceeded.

They felt sure that Ada's flight would not be discovered until daybreak. It would be some little time before horsemen could be sent off in all directions, in pursuit; and they could not be overtaken until between eleven and twelve.

The waggon was filled with grain, on the top of which Charlie and Ada were seated. When daylight came, Charlie alighted and walked by the cart. Unquestioned, they passed through several villages.

At eleven o'clock, Hossein pointed to a large grove, at some little distance from the road.

"Go in there," he said, "and stay till nightfall. Do you then come out, and follow me. I shall go into the next village, and remain there till after dark. I shall then start, and wait for you half a mile beyond the village."

An hour after the waggon had disappeared from sight, the party in the grove saw ten or twelve horsemen galloping rapidly along the road. An hour passed, and the same party returned, at an equal speed. They saw no more of them and, after it became dark, they continued their way; passed through the village, which was three miles ahead; and found Hossein waiting, a short distance beyond. Ada climbed into the cart, and they again went forward.

"Did you put the rajah's men on the wrong track, Hossein? We guessed that you had done so, when we saw them going back."

"Yes," Hossein said. "I had unyoked the bullocks, and had lain down in the caravanserai, when they arrived. They came in, and their leader asked who I was. I said that I was taking down a load of grain, for the use of the army at Calcutta. He asked where were the two men and the woman who were with me. I replied that I knew nothing of them. I had overtaken them on the road, and they had asked leave for the woman to ride in the cart. They said they were going to visit their mother, who was sick.

"He asked if I was sure they were natives, and I counterfeited surprise, and said that certainly they were; for which lie Allah will, I trust, be merciful, since it was told to an enemy. I said that they had left me, just when we had passed the last village; and had turned off by the road to the right, saying they had many miles to go.

"They talked together and decided that, as you were the only people who had been seen along the road, they must follow and find you; and so started at once, and I daresay they're searching for you now, miles away."

Their journey continued without any adventure, until within a few miles of Calcutta. Hossein then advised them to take up their abode in a ruined mud hut, at a distance from the road. He had bought, at the last village, a supply of provisions, sufficient to last them for some days.

"I shall now," he said, "go into the town, sell my grain, bullocks, and cart, and find out where the soldiers are."

As soon as the news of the nabob's advance against Calcutta reached Madras, Mr. Pigot, who was now governor there, despatched a force of two hundred and thirty men, under the orders of Major Kilpatrick. The party reached Falta, on the Hoogly, on the 2nd of August, and there heard of the capture of Calcutta. By detachments, who came down from some of the Company's minor posts, the force was increased to nearly four hundred. But sickness broke out among them and, finding himself unable to advance against so powerful an army as that of the nabob, Major Kilpatrick sent to Madras for further assistance.

When the news reached that place, Clive had recently arrived with a strong force, which was destined to operate against the French at Hyderabad. The news, however, of the catastrophe at Calcutta at once altered the destination of the force; and, on the 16th of October, the expedition sailed for Calcutta. The force consisted of two hundred and fifty men of the 39th Foot, the first regiment of the regular English army which had been sent out to India; five hundred and seventy men of the Madras European force; eighty artillerymen; and twelve hundred Sepoys.

Of the nine hundred Europeans, only six hundred arrived at that time at the mouth of the Hoogly, the largest ship, the Cumberland, with three hundred men on board, having grounded on the way. The remainder of the fleet, consisting of three ships of war, five transports, and a fire ship, reached Falta between the 11th and 20th of December.

Hossein had returned from Calcutta, with the news that the party commanded by Major Kilpatrick had been, for some weeks, at Falta; and the party at once set off towards that place, which was but forty miles distant. Travelling by night, and sleeping by day in the woods, they reached Falta without difficulty; and, learning that the force was still on board ship, they took possession of a boat, moored by the bank some miles higher up, and rowed down.

Great was their happiness, indeed, at finding themselves once more among friends. Here were assembled many of the ships which had been at Calcutta, at the time it was taken; and, to Ada's delight, she learned that her mother was on board one of these. They were soon rowed there, in a boat from the ship which they had first boarded; and Ada, on gaining the deck, saw her mother sitting among some other ladies, fugitives like herself.

With a scream of joy she rushed forward, and with a cry of, "Mamma, Mamma!" threw herself into her mother's arms.

It was a moment or two before Mrs. Haines could realize that this dark-skinned Hindoo girl was her child, and then her joy equalled that of her daughter. It was some time before any coherent conversation could take place; and then Ada, running back to Charlie, drew him forward to her mother; and presented him to her as her preserver, the Captain Marryat who had stayed with them at Calcutta.

Mrs. Haines' gratitude was extreme, and Charlie was soon surrounded, and congratulated, by the officers on board, to many of whom, belonging as they did to the Madras army, he was well known. Foremost among them, and loudest in his expressions of delight, was his friend Peters.

"You know, Charlie, I suppose," he said presently, "that you are a major now?"

"No, indeed," Charlie said. "How is that?"

"When the directors at home received the report of Commodore James, that the fort of Suwarndrug had been captured entirely through you, they at once sent out your appointment as major.

"You are lucky, old fellow. Here are you a major, while I'm a lieutenant, still. However, don't think I'm jealous, for I'm not a bit, and you thoroughly deserve all, and more than you've got."

"And this is Tim," Charlie said. "He has shared all my adventures with me."

Tim was standing disconsolately by the bulwark, shifting uneasily from foot to foot, with the feeling of the extreme shortness of his garments stronger upon him than ever.

Peters seized him heartily by the hand.

"I am glad to see you, Tim, very glad. And so you've been with Major Marryat, ever since?"

"For the Lord's sake, Mr. Peters," Tim said, in an earnest whisper, "git me a pair of trousers. I'm that ashamed of myself, in the presence of the ladies, that I'm like to drop."

"Come along below, Tim. Come along, Charlie. There are lots of poor fellows have gone down, and uniforms are plentiful. We'll soon rig you out again."

"There is one more introduction, Peters. This is my man, Hossein. He calls himself my servant. I call him my friend. He has saved my life twice, and has been of inestimable service. Had it not been for him, I should still be in prison at Moorshedabad."

Peters said a few hearty words to Hossein, and they then went below; returning on deck in half an hour, Charlie in the undress uniform of an officer, Tim in that of a private in the Madras infantry.

Mrs. Haines and Ada had gone below, where they could chat, unrestrained by the presence of others; and where an attempt could be made to restore Ada to her former appearance. Mrs. Haines had heard of her husband's death, on the day after the capture of Calcutta, Mr. Holwell having been permitted to send on board the ships a list of those who had fallen. She had learned that Ada had survived the terrible night in the dungeon, and that she had been sent up country, a captive. She almost despaired of ever hearing of her again, but had resolved to wait to see the issue of the approaching campaign.

Now that Ada was restored to her, she determined to leave for England; in a vessel which was to sail, in the course of a week, with a large number of fugitives. Mr. Haines was a very wealthy man, and had intended retiring, altogether, in the course of a few months; and she would, therefore, be in the enjoyment of an ample fortune in England.

Among those on board the ships at Falta was Mr. Drake, who at once, upon hearing of Charlie's arrival, ordered him to be arrested. Major Kilpatrick, however, firmly refused to allow the order to be carried out, saying that, as Charlie was under his orders as an officer in the Madras army, Mr. Drake had no control or authority over him. He could, however, upon Clive's arrival, lay the case before him.

A week later, Mrs. Haines and Ada sailed for England, the latter weeping bitterly at parting from Charlie, who promised them that, when he came home to England on leave, he would pay them a visit. He gave them his mother's address; and Mrs. Haines promised to call upon her, as soon as she reached England, and give her full news of him; adding that she hoped that his sisters, the youngest of whom was little older than Ada, would be great friends with her.

Very slowly and wearily the time passed at Falta. The mists from the river were deadly, and of the two hundred and thirty men whom Kilpatrick brought with him from Madras, in July, only about thirty remained alive; and of these, but ten were fit for duty when Clive, at last, arrived.

The fleet left Falta on the 27th of December, and anchored off Moiapur on the following day. The fort of Baj-baj, near this place, was the first object of attack; and it was arranged that, while Admiral Watson should bombard with the fleet, Clive should attack it on the land side.

Clive, who now held the rank of lieutenant colonel in the army, had manifested great pleasure at again meeting the young officer who had served under him at Arcot; and who had, in his absence, obtained a fame scarcely inferior to his own, by the defence of Ambur and the capture of Suwarndrug. A few hours after Clive's arrival, Mr. Drake had made a formal complaint of the assault which Charlie had committed; but after hearing, from Charlie, an account of the circumstances, Clive sent a contemptuous message to Mr. Drake, to the effect that Charlie had only acted as he should himself have done, under the same circumstances; and that, at the present time, he should not think of depriving himself of the services of one gallant soldier, even if he had maltreated a dozen civilians.

As Clive had been given paramount authority in Bengal, and as Mr. Drake had every reason to suppose that he, himself, would be recalled as soon as the circumstances attending the capture of Calcutta were known in England, he was unable to do anything further in the matter, and Charlie landed with Clive on the 28th. The force consisted of two hundred and fifty Europeans, and twelve hundred Sepoys, who were forced to drag with them, having no draft animals, two field pieces and a waggon of ammunition.

The march was an excessively fatiguing one. The country was swampy in the extreme, and intersected with watercourses; and, after a terribly fatiguing night march, and fifteen hours of unintermittent labour, they arrived, at eight o'clock in the morning, at the hollow bed of a lake, now perfectly dry. It lay some ten feet below the surrounding country, and was bordered with jungle. In the wet season it was full of water. On the eastern and southern banks lay an abandoned village, and it was situated about a mile and a half from the fort of Baj-baj.

Clive was ill, and unable to see after matters himself. Indeed, accustomed only to the feeble forces of Southern India, who had never stood for a moment against him in battle, he had no thought of danger. Upon the other hand the troops of the nabob, who had had no experience, whatever, of the superior fighting powers of the Europeans; and who had effected so easy a conquest at Calcutta, flushed with victory, regarded their European foes with contempt, and were preparing to annihilate them at a blow.

Manak Chand, the general commanding the nabob's forces, informed by spies of the movements of the English troops, moved out with fifteen hundred horses and two thousand foot. So worn out were the British upon their arrival at the dried bed of the lake that, after detaching a small body to occupy a village near the enemy's fort, from which alone danger was expected; while another took up the post in some jungles, by the side of the main road, the rest threw themselves down to sleep. Some lay in the village, some in the shade of the bushes along the sides of the hollow. Their arms were all piled in a heap, sixty yards from the eastern bank. The two field pieces stood deserted, on the north side of the village. Not a single sentry was posted.

Manak Chand, knowing that, after marching all night, they would be exhausted, now stole upon them, and surrounded the tank on three sides. Happily, he did not perceive that their arms were piled at a distance of sixty yards from the nearest man. Had he done so, the English would have been helpless in his hands. After waiting an hour, to be sure that the last of the English were sound asleep, he ordered a tremendous fire to be opened on the hollow and village.

Astounded at this sudden attack, the men sprang up from their deep sleep, and a rush was instantly made to their arms. Clive, ever coolest in danger, shouted to them to be steady, and his officers well seconded his attempts. Unfortunately the artillerymen, in their sudden surprise, instead of rushing to their cannon, joined the rest of the troops as they ran back to their arms, and the guns at once fell into the hands of the enemy.

These had now climbed the eastern bank, and a fire from all sides was poured upon the troops, huddled together in a mass.

"Major Marryat," Clive said, "if we fall back now, fatigued as the men are, and shaken by this surprise, we are lost. Do you take a wing of the Sepoy battalion, and clear the right bank. I will advance, with the main body, directly on the village."

"Come on, my lads," Charlie shouted, in Hindostanee; "show them how the men of Madras can fight."

The Sepoys replied with a cheer, advanced with a rush against the bank, drove the defenders at once from the point where they charged, and then swept round the tank towards the village, which Clive had already attacked in front.

The loss of Charlie's battalion was small, but the main body, exposed to the concentrated fire, suffered more heavily. They would not, however, be denied. Reaching the bank, they poured a volley into the village, and charged with the bayonet; just as Charlie's men dashed in at the side. The enemy fled from the village and, taking shelter in the jungles around, opened fire. The shouts of their officers could be heard, urging them again to sally out and fall upon the British; but at this moment, the party which had been sent forward along the road, hearing the fray, came hurrying up and poured their fire into the jungle.

Surprised at this reinforcement, the enemy paused as they were issuing from the wood, and then fell back upon their cavalry. The British artillerymen ran out, and seized the guns, and opened with them upon the retiring infantry. Clive now formed up his troops in line, and advanced against the enemy's cavalry, behind which their infantry had massed for shelter.

Manak Chand ordered his cavalry to charge, but just as he did so, a cannonball from one of Clive's field pieces passed close to his head. The sensation was so unpleasant that he at once changed his mind. The order for retreat was given, and the beaten army fell back, in disorder, to Calcutta.



Chapter 21: The Battle Outside Calcutta.

After the defeat of the enemy, who had surprised and so nearly annihilated him, Clive marched at once towards the fort of Baj-baj. On the way he met Major Kilpatrick, who was advancing, with a force which had been landed from the ships when the sound of firing was heard, to his assistance.

The fleet had, at daybreak, opened a heavy fire upon the ramparts; and by the afternoon effected a breach. As his men were greatly fatigued, and had had but an hour's sleep, Clive determined upon delaying the attack until the morning; and a party of two hundred and fifty sailors, with two guns, were landed to take part in the storming.

Many of these sailors had drunk freely before landing, and as night fell, some of them strolled towards the fort. One of the number, named Strahan, moved along, unobserved by the enemy, to the foot of the breach, climbed up it, and came suddenly upon a party of its defenders sitting round a fire, smoking. Strahan immediately fired his pistol among them, with a shout of, "The fort is mine!" and then gave three rousing cheers.

The enemy leaped to their feet and ran off for a little way. Then, seeing Strahan was alone, they rushed back and attacked him, firing as they came. Strahan, drawing his cutlass, defended himself vigorously for some time; but his weapon broke off at the hilt, just as a number of Sepoys and men of the 39th, who had been awakened from their sleep by the shouting and firing, came running up. Reinforcements of the garrison also joined their friends, but these were dispirited by the sudden and unexpected attack; and, as the troops continued to stream up the breach, the garrison were pressed; and, losing heart, fled through the opposite gate of the fort.

The only casualty on the British side was that Captain Campbell, marching up at the head of the Sepoys, was mistaken for an enemy by the sailors, and shot dead. Strahan was, in the morning, severely reprimanded by the admiral for his breach of discipline; and, retiring from the cabin, said to his comrades:

"Well, if I am flogged for this here action, I will never take another fort, by myself, as long as I live."

Manak Chand was so alarmed at the fighting powers shown by the English in these two affairs, that, leaving only a garrison of five hundred men at Calcutta, he retired with his army to join the nabob at Moorshedabad. When the fleet arrived before the town, the enemy surrendered the fort at the first shot, and it was again taken possession of by the English.

Major Kilpatrick was at once sent up, with five ships and a few hundred men, to capture the town of Hoogly, twenty miles farther up. The defences of the place were strong. It was held by two thousand men, and three thousand horsemen lay around it. The ships, however, at once opened a cannonade upon it, and effected a breach before night, and at daybreak the place was taken by storm.

Two days after the capture of Calcutta, the news arrived that war had again been declared between England and France. It was fortunate that this was not known a little earlier; for had the French forces been joined to those under Manak Chand, the reconquest of Calcutta would not have been so easily achieved.

The nabob, furious at the loss of Calcutta, and the capture and sack of Hoogly, at once despatched a messenger to the governor of the French colony of Chandranagore, to join him in crushing the English. The governor, however, had received orders that, in the event of war being declared between England and France, he was, if possible, to arrange with the English that neutrality should be observed between them. He therefore refused the nabob's request, and then sent messengers to Calcutta, to treat.

The nabob had gathered an army of ten thousand foot and fifteen thousand horse, and advanced against Calcutta, arriving before the town on the 2nd February, 1757. Clive's force had now, owing to the arrival of some reinforcements from Europe, and the enlisting of fresh Sepoys, been raised to seven hundred European infantry, a hundred artillerymen, and fifteen hundred Sepoys, with fourteen light field pieces.

The whole of the town of Calcutta was surrounded by a deep cut, with a bank behind, called the Mahratta Ditch. A mile beyond this was a large saltwater lake, so that an enemy advancing from the north would have to pass within a short distance of Clive's intrenched position outside the town, affording him great opportunities for a flank attack. On the day of their arrival Clive marched out, but the enemy opened a heavy fire, and he retired.

Clive determined to attack the enemy, next morning. Admiral Watson, at his request, at once landed five hundred and sixty sailors, under the command of Captain Warwick of the Thunderer. A considerable portion of the enemy had crossed the Mahratta Ditch, and encamped within it. The nabob himself pitched his tent in the garden of Omichund (a native Calcutta merchant who, though in the nabob's camp from motives of policy, sympathized entirely with the English), which occupied an advanced bastion within the Mahratta Ditch. The rest of the army were encamped between the ditch and the saltwater lake.

Clive's intentions were to march first against the battery which had played on him so effectually the day before; and, having carried this, to march directly against the garden in which the nabob was encamped. The force with which he started, at three o'clock in the morning of the 3rd, consisted of the five hundred and sixty sailors, who drew with them six guns, six hundred and fifty European infantry, a hundred European artillery, and eight hundred Sepoys. Half the Sepoys led the advance, the remainder covered the rear.

Soon after daybreak, the Sepoys came in contact with the enemy's advanced guard, placed in ditches along a road leading from the head of the lake to the Mahratta Ditch. These discharged their muskets, and some rockets, and took to flight. One of the rockets caused a serious disaster. The Sepoys had their ammunition pouches open, and the contents of one of these was fired by the rocket. The flash of the flame communicated the fire to the pouch of the next Sepoy, and so the flame ran along the line, killing, wounding, and scorching many, and causing the greatest confusion. Fortunately the enemy were not near, and Captain Eyre Coote, who led the British infantry behind them, aided Charlie, who led the advance, in restoring order, and the forward movement again went on.

A new obstacle had, however, arisen. With the morning a dense fog had set in, rendering it impossible for the troops to see even a few yards in advance of them. Still they pushed on and, unopposed, reached a point opposite Omichund's garden, but divided from it by the Mahratta Ditch.

Presently they heard the thunder of a great body of approaching cavalry. They waited quietly until the unseen horse had approached within a few yards of them, and then poured a mighty volley into the fog. The noise ceased abruptly, and was followed by that of the enemy's cavalry in retreat.

The fog was now so dense that it was impossible even to judge of the directions in which the troops were moving. Clive knew, however, that the Mahratta Ditch was on his right and, moving a portion of his troops till they touched this, he again advanced, his object being to gain a causeway which, raised several feet above the country, led from Calcutta, across the Mahratta Ditch, into the country beyond. Towards this Clive now advanced, his troops firing, as they marched, into the fog ahead of them, and the guns firing from the flanks, obliquely, to the right and left.

Without experiencing any opposition Clive reached the causeway, and the Sepoys, turning to their right, advanced along this towards the ditch. As they crossed this, however, they came in the line of fire of their own guns, the officer commanding them being ignorant of what was taking place in front, and unable to see a foot before him. Charlie, closely accompanied always by Tim, was at the head of his troops when the iron hail of the English guns struck the head of the column, mowing down numbers of men. A panic ensued, and the Sepoys, terror stricken at this discharge, from a direction in which they considered themselves secure, leaped from the causeway into the dry ditch and sheltered themselves there. Charlie and his companion were saved by the fact that they were a few paces ahead of the column.

"Run back, Tim," Charlie said. "Find Colonel Clive, and tell him that we are being mowed down by our own artillery. If you can't find him, hurry back to the guns, and tell the officer what he is doing."

Charlie then leaped down into the ditch, and endeavoured to rally the Sepoys. A few minutes later Clive himself arrived, and the Sepoys were induced to leave the ditch, and to form again by the side of the causeway, along which the British troops were now marching.

Suddenly, however, from the fog burst out the discharge of two heavy guns, which the enemy had mounted on a bastion flanking the ditch. The shouts of the officers, and the firing of the men, indicated precisely the position of the column. The grapeshot tore through it, and twenty-two of the English troops fell dead and wounded. Immediately afterwards another discharge followed, and the column, broken and confused, bewildered by the dense fog, and dismayed by the fire of these unseen guns, fell back.

Clive now determined to push on to the main road, which he knew crossed the fields half a mile in front of him. The country was, however, here laid out in rice fields, each inclosed by banks and ditches. Over these banks it was impossible to drag the guns, and the sailors could only get them along by descending into the ditches, and using these as roads. The labour was prodigious, and the men, fatigued and harassed by this battle in darkness, and by the fire from the unseen guns which the enemy continued to pour in their direction from either flank, began to lose heart.

Happily, however, the fog began to lift. The flanks of the columns were covered by bodies of troops, thrown out on either side, and after more than an hour's hard work, and abandoning two of the guns which had broken down, Clive reached the main road, again formed his men in column, and advanced towards the city.

The odds were overwhelmingly against him. There were guns, infantry, and cavalry, both in front and behind them. The column pressed on, in spite of the heavy fire, crossed the ditch, and attacked a strong body of the enemy drawn up on the opposite side. While it did so, a great force of the nabob's cavalry swept down on the rear, and for a moment captured the guns. Ensign Yorke, of the 39th Foot, faced the rear company about, and made a gallant charge upon the horsemen, drove them back, and recaptured the guns.

Clive's whole army was now across the ditch, and it was open to him either to carry out his original plan of attacking Omichund's garden, or of marching forward into the fort of Calcutta. Seeing that his men were fatigued, and worn out with six hours of labour and marching under the most difficult circumstances, he took the latter alternative, entered Calcutta, and then, following the stream, marched back to the camp he had left in the morning.

His loss amounted to thirty-nine Europeans killed, and eighteen Sepoys; eighty-two Europeans wounded, and thirty-five Sepoys; the casualties being caused almost entirely by the enemy's cannon.

The expedition, from a military point of view, had been an entire failure. He had carried neither the battery nor Omichund's garden. Had it not been for the fog he might have succeeded in both these objects; but, upon the other hand, the enemy were as much disconcerted by the fog as he was, and were unable to use their forces with any effect. Military critics have decided that the whole operation was a mistake; but although a mistake and a failure, its consequences were no less decisive.

The nabob, struck with astonishment at the daring and dash of the English, in venturing with so small a force to attack him, and to march through the very heart of his camp, was seized with terror. He had lost thirteen hundred men in the fight, among whom were twenty-four rajahs and lesser chiefs, and the next morning he sent in a proposal for peace.

A less determined man than Clive would, no doubt, have accepted the proposal. Calcutta was still besieged by a vastly superior force, supplies of all kinds were running short, the attack of the previous day had been a failure. He knew, however, the character of Asiatics, and determined to play the game of bounce. The very offer of the nabob showed him that the latter was alarmed. He therefore wrote to him, saying that he had simply marched his troops through his highness' camp to show him of what British soldiers were capable; but that he had been careful to avoid hurting anyone, except those who actually opposed his progress. He concluded by expressing his willingness to accede to the nabob's proposal, and to negotiate.

The nabob took it all in. If all this destruction and confusion had been wrought by a simple march through his camp, what would be the result if Clive were to take into his head to attack him in earnest? He therefore at once withdrew his army three miles to the rear, and opened negotiations. He granted all that the English asked: that all the property and privileges of the Company should be restored, that all their goods should pass into the country free of tax, that all the Company's factories, and all moneys and properties belonging to it or its servants, should be restored or made good, and that permission should be given to them to fortify Calcutta as they pleased.

Having agreed to these conditions, the nabob, upon the 11th of February, retired with his army to his capital; leaving Omichund with a commission to propose to the English a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, against all enemies. This proposal was a most acceptable one, and Clive determined to seize the opportunity to crush the French. His previous experiences, around Madras, had taught him that the French were the most formidable rivals of England in India. He knew that large reinforcements were on their way to Pondicherry, and he feared that the nabob, when he recovered from his panic, might regret the conditions which he had granted, and might ally himself with the French in an effort, again, to expel the English.

He therefore determined at once to attack the French. The deputies sent by Monsieur Renault, the governor of Chandranagore, had been kept waiting from day to day, under one pretence or another; and they now wrote to the governor that they believed that there was no real intention, on the part of the English, to sign an agreement of neutrality with him; and that they would be the next objects of attack. Monsieur Renault immediately sent messengers to the nabob, urging upon him that, if the English were allowed to annihilate the French, they would be more dangerous enemies than ever; and Suraja-u-Dowlah, having now recovered from his terror, wrote at once to Calcutta, peremptorily forbidding any hostilities against the French.

To show his determination, he despatched fifteen hundred men to Hoogly, which the English had abandoned after capturing it, with instructions to help the French if attacked; and he sent a lac of rupees to Monsieur Renault, to aid him in preparing for his defence.

Clive, unwilling to face a coalition between the French and the nabob, was in favour of acceding to the nabob's orders. The treaty of neutrality with the French was drawn up, and would have been signed, had it not been for the obstinate refusal of Admiral Watson to agree to it. Between that officer and Clive there had never been any cordial feeling, and from the time of their first connection, at the siege of Gheriah, differences of opinion, frequently leading to angry disputes, had taken place between them. Nor was it strange that this should be so. Both were brave and gallant men; but while Watson had the punctilious sense of honor which naturally belongs to an English gentleman, Clive was wholly unscrupulous as to the means which he employed to gain his ends.

Between two such men, it is not singular that disagreements arose. Admiral Watson, impelled by feelings of personal dislike to Clive, often allowed himself to be carried to unwarrantable lengths. On the occasion of the capture of Calcutta, he ordered Captain Eyre Coote, who first entered it, to hold it in the king's name, and to disobey Clive's orders, although the latter had been granted a commission in the royal army as lieutenant colonel, and was, moreover, the chief authority of the Company in all affairs on land. Upon Clive's asserting himself, Admiral Watson absolutely threatened to open fire upon his troops. Apparently from a sheer feeling of opposition, he now opposed the signing of the treaty with the French, and several days were spent in stormy altercations.

Circumstances occurred, during this time, which strengthened the view he took, and changed those of Clive and his colleagues of the council. Just then, the news reached Suraja-u-Dowlah that Delhi had been captured by the Afghans; and, terrified at the thought that the victorious northern enemy might next turn their arms against him, he wrote to Clive, begging him to march to his assistance, and offering a lac of rupees a month towards the expense of his army.

On the same day that Clive received the letter, he heard that Commodore James and three ships, with reinforcements from Bombay, had arrived at the mouth of the Hoogly; and that the Cumberland, with three hundred troops, which had grounded on her way from Madras, was now coming up the river.

Almost at the same moment he heard, from Omichund, who had accompanied the nabob to Moorshedabad, that he had bribed the governor of Hoogly to offer no opposition to the passage of the troops up the river.

Clive was now ready to agree to Admiral Watson's views, and to advance at once against Chandranagore; but the admiral again veered round, and refused to agree to the measure, unless the consent of the nabob was obtained. He wrote, however, himself, a threatening, and indeed violent letter to the nabob, ordering him to give his consent. The nabob, still under the influence of his fears from the Afghans, replied in terms which amounted to consent, but the very next day, having received news which calmed his fears as to the Afghans, he wrote peremptorily, forbidding the expedition against the French. This letter, however, was disregarded, and the expedition prepared to start.

It consisted of seven hundred Europeans and fifteen hundred native infantry, who started by land; a hundred and fifty artillery proceeding in boats, escorted by three ships of war and several smaller vessels, under Admiral Watson.

The French garrison consisted only of a hundred and forty-six French, and three hundred Sepoys. Besides these were three hundred of the European population, and sailors of the merchant ships in port, who had been hastily formed into a militia.

The governor, indignant at the duplicity with which he had been treated, had worked vigorously at his defences. The settlement extended along the river banks for two miles. In the centre stood the fort, which was a hundred and twenty yards square, mounting ten thirty-two pounder guns on each of its four bastions. Twenty four-pounder guns were placed on the ramparts, facing the river on the south. On an outlying work commanding the watergate eight thirty-two pounders were mounted. Monsieur Renault set to work to demolish all the houses within a hundred yards of the fort, and to erect batteries commanding the approaches. He ordered an officer to sink several ships in the only navigable channel, about a hundred and fifty yards to the south of the fort, at a point commanded by the guns of one of the batteries.

The officer was a traitor. He purposely sank the ships in such a position as to leave a channel, through which the English ships might pass; and then, seizing his opportunity, deserted to them.

On approaching the town Clive, knowing that Charlie could speak the native language fluently, asked him whether he would undertake to reconnoitre the position of the enemy, with which he was entirely unacquainted. Charlie willingly agreed. When, on the night of the 13th of March, the army halted a few miles from the town, Charlie, disguising himself in a native dress and accompanied by Hossein, left the camp and made his way to the town. This he had no difficulty in entering. It extended a mile and a half back from the river, and consisted of houses standing in large gardens and inclosures. The whole of the Europeans were labouring at the erection of the batteries, and the destruction of the houses surrounding them; and Charlie and his companion, approaching closely to one of these, were pounced upon by the French officer in command of a working party, and set to work, with a number of natives, in demolishing the houses.

Charlie, with his usual energy, threw himself into the work, and would speedily have called attention to himself, by the strength and activity which he displayed, had not Hossein begged him to moderate his efforts.

"Native man never work like that, sahib. Not when he's paid ever so much. Work still less, no pay. The French would soon notice the sahib, if he laboured like that."

Thus admonished, Charlie adapted his actions to those of his companions and, after working until dawn approached, he managed, with Hossein, to evade the attention of the officer; and, drawing off, hurried away to rejoin Clive. The latter was moving from the west, by a road leading to the northern face of the fort. It was at the battery which Renault was erecting upon this road that Charlie had been labouring. The latter informed Clive of the exact position of the work, and also, that although strong by itself, it was commanded by many adjoining houses; which the French, in spite of their efforts, had not time to destroy.

This news decided Clive to advance immediately, without giving the enemy further time to complete their operations.



Chapter 22: Plassey.

As the English troops advanced, they were met on the outskirts of the settlement by the enemy, who contested bravely every garden and inclosure with them. The British force was, however, too strong to be resisted, and gradually the French were driven back, until they formed in rear of the battery. Clive at once took possession of the houses surrounding it, and from them kept up, all day, a heavy fire upon the defenders; until, at nightfall, these fell back upon the fort, after spiking their guns. The loss of this position compelled the French to abandon the other outlying batteries, from which, during the night, they withdrew their guns into the fort.

The next four days Clive spent in bringing up the guns landed from the fleet, and establishing batteries round the fort; and on the 19th he opened fire against it. On the same day the three men of war; the Kent of sixty-four guns, the Tiger of sixty, and the Salisbury of fifty, anchored just below the channel, which the governor believed he had blocked up. The next four days were spent by the fleet in sounding, to discover whether the statements of the French deserter were correct.

During this time, a heavy cannonade was kept up unceasingly between Clive and the fort. In this the garrison had the best of it, silenced some of the English guns, killed many of the assailants, and would certainly have beaten off the land attack, had the fleet not been able to interfere in the struggle.

All this time, the governor was hoping that aid would arrive from the nabob. The latter, indeed, did send a force under Rajah Dulab Ram, but the governor of Hoogly, bribed by Omichund, sent messages to this officer urging him to halt, as Chandranagore was about to surrender, and he would only incur the anger of the English, uselessly.

On the morning of the 23rd, having ascertained that a channel was free, the fleet advanced. The Tiger, leading, made her way through the passage and, taking up a position abreast of the northeast bastion of the fort, opened a heavy fire upon it with her guns, and harassed the besieged with a musketry fire from her tops. The Kent was on the point of anchoring opposite the watergate, when so heavy a fire was poured upon her that, in the confusion, the cable ran out; and the ship dropped down, till she anchored at a point exposed to a heavy crossfire from the southeast and southwest bastions. Owing to this accident, the Salisbury was forced to anchor a hundred and fifty yards below the fort.

The French fought with extreme bravery. Vastly superior as were the English force and guns, the French fire was maintained with the greatest energy and spirit, the gunners being directed and animated by Monsieur De Vignes, captain of one of the ships which had been sunk. No advantage was gained by the Tiger, in her struggle with the northeast bastion, and the guns of the southwest bastion galled the Kent so severely that the admiral, neglecting the southeast bastion, was forced to turn the whole of his guns upon it.

De Vignes concentrated his fire against one point in the Kent, and presently succeeded in setting her on fire. The conflagration spread, a panic ensued, and some seventy or eighty men jumped into the boats alongside.

The officers, however, rallied the rest of the crew. The fire was extinguished, the men returned to their duty, and the cannonade was recommenced.

After the battle had raged for two hours, the fire of the fort began to slacken, as one after another of the guns was dismounted. Monsieur Renault saw that the place could be no longer defended. Of his hundred and forty-six soldiers, over ninety had been killed and wounded. Collecting the remainder, and their officers, with twenty Sepoys, the governor ordered them to leave the fort immediately; making a detour to avoid the English, who were aiding the fleet by attacking the land side, and to march to Kossimbazar to join Monsieur Law, who commanded there. Then, there remaining in the fort only the clerks, women, and wounded, he hoisted a flag of truce.

Terms were speedily arranged. The governor, and all the civilians and natives, were allowed to go where they chose, with their clothes and linen. The wounded French soldiers were to remain, as prisoners of war.

Chandranagore cost the English two hundred and six men. The attack upon the French colony was blamed by many, at the time, for in the hour of English distress they had offered to remain neutral, instead of joining the nabob in crushing us. Upon the other hand, there was force in the arguments with which Admiral Watson had defended his refusal to sign the treaty of neutrality. That treaty would not be binding, unless ratified by Pondicherry; and to Pondicherry it was known that the most powerful fleet and army France had ever sent to India was on its way. It was also known that Bussy, at the court of the Nizam of the Deccan, was in communication with the nabob. Thus, then, in a short time English interests in India might be menaced more formidably than ever before, and the crushing out of the French colony, almost at the gates of Calcutta, was a measure of extreme importance. It was hard upon the gallant governor of Chandranagore, but public opinion generally agreed that the urgency of the case justified the course adopted by the English authorities at Calcutta.

Suraja-u-Dowlah was filled with fury, at the news of the capture of Chandranagore; but hearing a rumour, two days later, that the Afghans were upon their march to attack him, he wrote letters to Clive and Watson, congratulating them upon their success, and offering to them the territory of Chandranagore, on the same terms upon which it had been held by the French.

But the young tyrant of Moorshedabad was swayed by constantly fluctuating feeling. At one moment his fears were uppermost; the next, his anger and hate of the English. Instead of recalling the army of Rajah Dulab Ram, as he had promised, he ordered it to halt at Plassey, a large village twenty-two miles south of Moorshedabad.

The English were represented at his court by Mr. Watts, who had the greatest difficulty in maintaining his position, in the constantly changing moods of the nabob. One day the latter would threaten to order him to be led to instant execution, the next he would load him with presents.

Besides Mr. Watts, the English affairs were conducted by Omichund who, aided by the Sets, or native bankers, whom Suraja-u-Dowlah had plundered and despoiled, got up a conspiracy among the nabob's most intimate followers.

The history of these intrigues is the most unpleasant feature in the life of Clive. Meer Jaffier, the nabob's general, himself offered to Mr. Watts to turn traitor, if the succession to the kingdom was bestowed upon him. This was agreed to, upon his promise to pay, not only immense sums to the Company, but enormous amounts to the principal persons on the English side. So enormous, indeed, were these demands, that even Meer Jaffier, anxious as he was to conclude the alliance, was aghast. The squadron was to have two million and a half rupees, and the same amount was to be paid for the army. Presents amounting to six millions of rupees were to be distributed between Clive, Major Kilpatrick, the governor, and the members of the council. Clive's share of these enormous sums amounted to two million, eighty thousand rupees. In those days, a rupee was worth half a crown. Never did an English officer make such a bargain for himself.

But even this is not the most dishonorable feature of the transaction. Omichund had, for some time, been kept in the dark as to what was going forward; but, obtaining information through his agents, he questioned Mr. Watts concerning it. The latter then informed him of the whole state of affairs, and Omichund, whose services to the English had been immense, naturally demanded a share of the plunder.

Whether or not he threatened to divulge the plot to the nabob, unless his demands were satisfied, is doubtful. At any rate, it was considered prudent to pacify him, and he was accordingly told that he should receive the sum he named. Clive, and the members of the council, however, although willing to gratify their own extortionate greed, at the expense of Meer Jaffier, determined to rob Omichund of his share. In order to do this, two copies of the treaty with Meer Jaffier were drawn up, on different coloured papers. They were exactly alike, except that, in one, the amount to be given to Omichund was entirely omitted. This was the real treaty. The other was intended to be destroyed, after being shown to a friend of Omichund, in order to convince the latter that all was straight and honorable.

All the English authorities placed their signatures to the real treaty, but Admiral Watson indignantly refused to have anything to do with the fictitious one; or to be a party, in any way, to the deceit practised on Omichund. In order to get out of the difficulty, Clive himself forged Admiral Watson's signature to the fictitious treaty.

A more disgraceful transaction was never entered into, by a body of English gentlemen. That Mr. Drake and the members of his council, the pitiful cowards who fled from Calcutta, and refused to allow the ships to draw off its brave garrison, should consent to such a transaction was but natural; but that Clive, the gallant and dashing commander, should have stooped to it, is sad, indeed.

It may be said that, to the end of his life, Clive defended his conduct in this transaction, under the excuse that Omichund was a scoundrel. The Indian was not, indeed, an estimable character. Openly, he was the friend and confidant of the nabob while, all the time, he was engaged in bribing and corrupting his officers, and in plotting with his enemies. This, however, in no way alters the facts that he rendered inestimable service to the English; and that the men who deceived and cheated him were, to the full, as greedy and grasping as himself; without, in the case of the governor and his council, having rendered any service whatever to the cause.

At last, the negotiations were complete. More and more severely did Clive press upon the nabob. Having compelled him to expel Law and the French, first from Moorshedabad and then from his dominions, he pressed fresh demands upon him; until the unfortunate prince, driven to despair, and buoyed up with the hope that he should receive assistance from Bussy, who had just expelled the English from their factory at Vizapatam, ordered Meer Jaffier to advance, with fifteen thousand men, to reinforce Rajah Dulab Ram at Plassey.

Clive, in fact, forced on hostilities. His presence, with that of a considerable portion of his army, was urgently required at Madras. He was sure, however, that the instant he had gone, and the English force was greatly weakened, the nabob would again commence hostilities; and the belief was shared by all in India. He was, therefore, determined to force on the crisis, as soon as possible; in order that, the nabob being disposed of, he should be able to send reinforcements to Madras.

While these negotiations had been going on, Charlie Marryat had remained in Calcutta. He had been severely wounded in the attack on Chandranagore, and was carried down to Calcutta in a boat. On arriving there, he heard that the Lizzie Anderson had just cast anchor off the fort. He caused himself at once to be conveyed on board, and was received with the greatest heartiness and pleasure, by his old friend, the captain; and assiduously attended by the doctor of the ship. In order that he might have as much air as possible, the captain had a sort of tent, with a double covering, erected on deck. During the daytime the sides of this were lifted, so that the air could pass freely across the bed.

Charlie's wound was a severe one and, had he been nursed in a hospital on shore, it is probable that it would have been fatal. Thanks, however, to the comforts on board ship, the freshness and coolness of the situation, and the care of all surrounding him, he was, after some weeks' illness, pronounced convalescent; and was sufficiently recovered to join the force with which Clive marched against Plassey.

This force consisted of nine hundred and fifty European infantry, a hundred artillerymen, fifty sailors, and two thousand one hundred Sepoys. The artillery consisted of eight six-pounders and two small howitzers. The army of the nabob was fifty thousand strong, and against such a force it was, indeed, an adventurous task for an army of three thousand men, of whom only one-third were Europeans, to advance to the attack. Everything depended, in fact, upon Meer Jaffier and his two colleagues in treachery, Rajah Dulab Ram and Yar Lutf Khan.

The nabob, on hearing of Clive's advance, had sent to Monsieur Law; who was, with a hundred and fifty men, at a place over a hundred miles distant; to which he had, in accordance with the orders of Clive, been obliged to retire; and begged him to advance to join him, with all speed. The nabob had with him forty or fifty Frenchmen, commanded by Monsieur Saint Frais, formerly one of the council of Chandranagore. These had some field pieces of their own, and also directed the native artillery, of fifty-three guns; principally thirty-two, twenty-four, and eighteen pounders.

Had Clive been sure of the cooperation of Meer Jaffier and his confederates, who commanded three out of the four divisions of the nabob's army, he need not have hesitated. But he was, till the last moment, in ignorance whether to rely upon them. The nabob, having become suspicious of Meer Jaffier, had obtained from him an oath, sworn on the Koran, of fidelity; and although the traitor continued his correspondence with Clive, his letters were of a very dubious character, and Clive was in total ignorance as to his real intentions. So doubtful, indeed, was he that, when only a few miles of ground and the river Bhagirathi lay between him and the enemy, Clive felt the position so serious that he called a council of war; and put to them the question whether they should attack the nabob, or fortify themselves at Katwa, and hold that place until the rainy season, which had just set in with great violence, should abate.

All the officers above the rank of subalterns, twenty in number, were present. Clive himself, contrary to custom, gave his vote first in favour of halting at Katwa. Major Kilpatrick, who commanded the Company's troops, Major Grant of the 37th, and ten other officers voted the same way. Major Eyre Coote declared in favour of an immediate advance. He argued that the troops were in high spirits, and had hitherto been everywhere successful, and that a delay would allow Monsieur Law and his troops to arrive. He considered that, if they determined not to fight, they should fall back upon Calcutta. Charlie Marryat supported him, as did five other officers, all belonging to the Indian service.

The decision taken, the council separated, and Clive strolled away to a grove, and sat down by himself. There he thought over, in his mind, the arguments which had been advanced by both sides. He saw the force of the arguments which had been adduced by Major Eyre Coote and Charlie Marryat; and his own experience showed him that the daring course is always the most prudent one, in fighting Asiatics. At last, he came to a conclusion. Rising, he returned to the camp; and, meeting Major Coote on the way, informed him that he had changed his mind, and would fight the next day.

Charlie returned to his tent after the council broke up, disheartened at the result. He was greeted by Tim.

"Shure, yer honor, Hossein is in despair. The water has filled up the holes, where he makes his fires, and the rain has soaked the wood. Yer dinner is not near cooked yet, and half the dishes are spoilt."

"It does not matter a bit, Tim," Charlie said. "You know I'm not particular about my eating, though Hossein will always prepare a dinner fit for an alderman."

"We are going to fight them tomorrow, yer honor, I hope," Tim said. "It's sick to death I am of wading about here in the wet, like a duck. It's as bare as the bogs of ould Ireland, without the blessings of the pigs and potatoes, to say nothing of the colleens."

"No, Tim, I'm afraid we're going to stop where we are, for a bit. The council of war have decided not to fight."

"Shure and that's bad news," Tim said. "The worst I've heard for many a day. What if there be fifty thousand of 'em, Mister Charles, haven't we bate 'em at long odds before, and can't we do it agin?"

"I think we could, Tim," Charlie replied; "but the odds of fifty-three heavy cannon, which the spies say they've got, to our ten popguns, is serious. However, I'm sorry we're not going to fight, and I'm afraid that you must make up your mind to the wet, and Hossein his to giving me bad dinners for some weeks to come; that is to say, if the enemy don't turn us out of this."

A few minutes later, Lieutenant Peters entered the tent.

"Is it true, Charlie, that we are not going to fight, after all?"

"True enough," Charlie said. "We are to wait till the rains are over."

"Rains!" Peters said, in disgust; "what have the rains got to do with it? If we had a six weeks' march before us, I could understand the wet weather being a hindrance. Men are not water rats, and to march all day in these heavy downpours, and to lie all night in the mud, would soon tell upon our strength. But here we are, within a day's march of the enemy, and the men might as well get wet in the field as here. Everyone longs to be at the enemy, and a halt will have a very bad effect.

"What have you got to drink, Charlie?"

"I have some brandy and rum; nothing else," Charlie said. "But what will be better than either for you is a cup of tea. Hossein makes it as well as ever. I suppose you have dined?"

"Yes, half an hour ago."

Just as Charlie finished his meal, Major Eyre Coote put his head into the tent.

"Marryat, the chief has changed his mind. We cross the river the first thing in the morning, and move at once upon Plassey."

"Hurrah!" Charlie shouted; "Clive is himself again. That is good news, indeed!"

"You will move your Sepoys down to the river at daybreak, and will be the first to cross. There is no chance of any opposition, as the spies tell us that the nabob has not arrived yet at Plassey."

Several other officers afterwards dropped into the tent, for the news rapidly spread through the camp. There was, as had been the case at the council, considerable differences of opinion as to the prudence of the measure; but among the junior officers and men, the news that the enemy were to be attacked, at once, was received with hearty satisfaction.

"Here, major," a fellow subaltern of Peters' said, as he entered the tent, followed by a servant; "I have brought in half a dozen bottles of champagne. I started with a dozen from Calcutta, and had intended to keep these to celebrate our victory. But as, in the first place, all heavy baggage is to be left here; and in the second, it has occurred to me that possibly I may not come back to help to drink it; we may as well turn it to the good purpose of drinking success to the expedition."

Some of the bottles were opened, and a merry evening was spent; but the party broke up early, for they had a heavy day's work before them, on the morrow.

At daybreak, the troops were in movement towards the banks of the Bhagirathi. They had brought boats with them from Chandranagore, and the work of crossing the river continued, without intermission, until four in the afternoon, when the whole force was landed on the left bank. Here Clive received another letter from Meer Jaffier, informing him that the nabob had halted at Mankarah, and intended to entrench himself there. He suggested that the English should undertake a circuitous march, and attack him in the rear; but as this march would have exposed Clive to being cut off from his communications, and as he was still very doubtful of the good faith of the conspirators, he determined to march straight forward; and sent word to Meer Jaffier, to that effect.

From the point where Clive had crossed the Bhagirathi it was fifteen miles to Plassey, following, as they did, the curves of the river. It was necessary to do this, as they had no carriage; and the men were obliged to tow their supplies in boats, against the stream.

Orders were issued that, as soon as the troops were across, they should prepare to eat their dinners, as the march was to be resumed at once. The rain was coming down in a steady pour as the troops, drenched to the skin, started upon their march. The stream, swollen by the rains, was in full flood, and the work of towing the heavy-laden barges was wearisome in the extreme. All took a share in the toil. In many cases the river had overflowed its banks, and the troops had to struggle through the water, up to their waists, while they tugged and strained at the ropes.

Charlie, as a mounted officer, rode at the head of his Sepoys; who formed the advance of the force. Three hundred men preceded the main body, who were towing the boats, to guard them from any sudden surprise. Tim marched beside him, occasionally falling back, and taking a turn at the ropes.

"This is dog's work, Mister Charles," he said. "It's lucky that it's raining, for the river can't make us wetter than we are. My hands are fairly sore, with pulling at the ropes."

"Ah, Tim, you're not fond of ropes, you know. You remember that night at Moorshedabad."

"Faith, yer honor, and I'll not forget it, if I live to be as old as Methuselah. Well, yer honor, it will be hard on us if we do not thrash them niggers, tomorrow, after all the trouble we are taking to be at them."

At one o'clock in the morning, the weary troops reached the village of Plassey. They marched through it, and halted and bivouacked in a large mango grove, a short distance beyond.



Chapter 23: Plassey.

Scarcely had the soldiers taken off their packs, when the sound of martial music was heard. Charlie was speaking, at the time, to Major Coote.

"There are the enemy, sure enough," the latter said. "That old rascal, Meer Jaffier, must have been deceiving us when he said that the nabob had halted at Mankarah. I'm afraid he means to play us false."

"I expect," Charlie remarked, "that he does not know what he means, himself. These Asiatics are at any time ready to turn traitors, and to join the strongest. At present, Jaffier does not know what is the stronger; and I think it likely enough that he will take as little share as he can in the battle, tomorrow, till he sees which way it is going. Then, if we are getting the best of it, the rascal will join us, for the sake of the advantages which he expects to gain. If the day is going against us, he will do his best to complete his master's victory; and should proofs of his intended treachery ever come to light, he will clear himself by saying that he intended to deceive us all along, and merely pretended to treat with us, in order to throw us off our guard, and so deliver us into the hands of his master."

"Yes," Major Eyre Coote replied. "These Mohammedan chiefs are indeed crafty and treacherous rascals. The whole history of India shows that gratitude is a feeling altogether unknown to them; and that, whatever favours a master may have lavished upon them, they are always ready to betray him, if they think that by so doing they will better their position.

"Now I shall lie down, and try to get a few hours' sleep before morning. I am wet to the skin, but fortunately in these sultry nights that matters little."

"I must go my rounds," Charlie said, "and see that the sentries are on the alert. If the men were not so tired, I should have said that the best plan would have been to make a dash straight at the enemy's camp. It would take them quite unprepared, even if they know, as I daresay they do, that we are close at hand; and they would lose all the advantage of their artillery."

"Yes, if we had arrived an hour before sunset, so as to be able to learn something of the nature of the ground, that would be our best course," Major Coote agreed. "But, even if the troops had been fresh, a night attack on an unknown position is a hazardous undertaking.

"Good night. I must see Clive, and take his last orders."

At daybreak the English were astir, and the position of the enemy became visible. He occupied strongly intrenched works, which the Rajah Dulab Ram had thrown up during his stay. The right of these works rested on the river; and extended inland, at a right angle to it, for about two hundred yards; and then swept round to the north, at an obtuse angle, for nearly three miles. At the angle was a redoubt, mounted with cannon. In advance of this was a mound, covered with jungle. Halfway between the intrenchments and the mango grove were two large tanks, near the river, surrounded by high mounds of earth. These tanks were about half a mile from the English position. On the river bank, a little in advance of the grove, was a hunting box belonging to the nabob, surrounded by a masonry wall. Clive took possession of this, immediately he heard the sound of the nabob's music, on his arrival.

Soon after daylight, the nabob's troops moved out from their intrenchments, and it was evident that he was aware of the position of the English. The French, with their four field guns, took up their post on the mound of the tank nearest to the grove, and about half a mile distant from it; and in the narrow space between them and the river two heavy guns, under a native officer, were placed.

Behind the French guns was the division of Mir Mudin Khan, the one faithful general of the nabob. It consisted of five thousand horse, and seven thousand foot. Extending, in the arc of a circle, towards the village of Plassey, were the troops of the three traitor generals Rajah Dulab Ram, Yar Lutf Khan, and Meer Jaffier. Thus, the English position was almost surrounded; and in advancing against the camp, they would have to expose themselves to an attack in rear by the troops of the conspirators. These generals had, between them, nearly thirty-eight thousand troops.

From the roof of the hunting box, Clive watched the progress of the enemy's movements. He saw, at once, that the position which they had taken up was one which would entail the absolute destruction of his force, should he be defeated; and that this depended entirely upon the course taken by the conspirators. Against such a force as that opposed to him, if these remained faithful to their master, success could hardly be hoped for.

However, it was now too late to retreat, and the only course was to show a bold front. Clive accordingly moved his troops out, from the mango trees, to a line with the hunting box. The Europeans were formed in the centre, with three field pieces on each side. The native troops were on either flank. Two field guns, and the two howitzers, were placed a little in advance of the hunting box, facing the French position on the mound.

At eight o'clock in the morning, of the 23rd of June, a memorable day in the annals of India, the preparations on both sides were complete; and Saint Frais opened the battle, by the discharge of one of his guns at the English. At the signal, the whole of the artillery round the long curve opened their fire. The ten little guns replied to this overwhelming discharge, and for half an hour continued to play on the dense masses of the enemy. But, however well they might be handled, they could do little against the fire of the fifty pieces of cannon, concentrated upon them.

Had these been all served by European artillerymen, the British force would have been speedily annihilated as they stood. The natives of India, however, were extremely clumsy gunners. They fired but slowly, and had the feeblest idea of elevation. Consequently their balls, for the most part, went far over the heads of the English; and the four field guns of Saint Frais did more execution than the fifty heavy pieces of the nabob. At the end of half an hour, however, Clive had lost thirty of his men, and determined to fall back to the mango grove.

Leaving a party in the hunting box, and in the brick kilns in front of it, in which the guns had been posted, to harass Saint Frais' battery with their musketry fire, he withdrew the rest of his force into the grove. Here they were in shelter, for it was surrounded by a high and thick bank. Behind this the men sat down, while parties set to work, piercing holes through the banks as embrasures for the guns.

The enemy, on the retreat of the British within the grove, advanced with loud shouts of triumph; and, bringing their guns closer, again opened fire. The British had, by this time, pierced the holes for their field pieces; and these opened so vigorously that several of the enemy's cannon were disabled, numbers of their gunners killed, and some ammunition waggons blown up. On the other hand the English, now in perfect shelter, did not suffer at all, although the tops of the trees were cut off, in all directions, by the storm of cannon balls which swept through them.

Although the English fire was producing considerable loss among the enemy, this was as nothing in comparison to his enormous numbers; and, at eleven o'clock, Clive summoned his principal officers around him; and it was agreed that, as Meer Jaffier and his associates, of whose position in the field they were ignorant, showed no signs of drawing off, or of treachery to their master, it was impossible to risk an attack upon the front; since they would, as they pressed forward, be enveloped by the forces in the rear. It was determined, therefore, that unless any unexpected circumstance occurred, they should hold their present position till nightfall; and should, at midnight, attack the enemy's camp.

A quarter of an hour later, a tremendous tropical shower commenced, and for an hour the rain came down in torrents. Gradually the enemy's fire slackened. The English had tarpaulins to cover their ammunition, which, therefore, suffered no injury. The natives had no such coverings, and their powder was soon completely wetted, by the deluge of rain. Mir Mudin Khan, knowing that his own guns had been rendered useless, believed that those of the English were in a similar condition; and, leading out his cavalry, made a splendid charge down upon the grove.

The English were in readiness. As the cavalry swept up, a flash of fire ran from a thousand muskets, from the top of the embankments; while each of the field guns sent its load of grapeshot, through the embrasures, into the throng of horsemen.

The effect was decisive. The cavalry recoiled before the terrible fire, and rode back, with their brave leader mortally wounded. This blow was fatal to the fortunes of Suraja Dowlah. When the news of the death of his brave and faithful general reached him, he was struck with terror. He had long suspected Meer Jaffier of treachery, but he had now no one else to rely upon. Sending for that general he reminded him, in touching terms, of the benefits which he had received at the hands of his father; and conjured him to be faithful to him. Throwing his turban upon the ground, he said:

"Jaffier, you must defend that turban."

Jaffier responded with assurances of his loyalty and sincerity, and promised to defend his sovereign with his life. Then, riding off, he at once despatched a messenger to Clive, informing him of what had happened, and urging him to attack at once.

As long as Mir Mudin Khan lived, it is probable that Meer Jaffier was still undecided as to the part he should play. While that general lived it was possible, even probable, that the English would be defeated, even should the traitors take no part against them. His death, however, left the whole management of affairs in the hands of the three conspirators, and their course was now plain.

Scarcely had Meer Jaffier left the nabob, than the unhappy young man, who was still under twenty years old, turned to Rajah Dulab Ram for counsel and advice. The traitor gave him counsel that led to his destruction. He told him that the English could not be attacked in their position; that his troops, exposed to the fire of their guns, were suffering heavily and losing heart; and he advised him, at once, to issue orders for them to fall back within their intrenchments. He also advised him to leave the field himself, and to retire to Moorshedabad, leaving it to his generals to annihilate the English, should they venture to attack them.

Suraja Dowlah, at no time capable of thinking for himself, and now bewildered by the death of the general he knew to be faithful to him, and by his doubts as to the fidelity of the others, fell into the snare. He at once issued orders for the troops to retire within their intrenchments; and then, mounting a swift camel, and accompanied by two thousand horsemen, he left the field, and rode off to Moorshedabad.

The movement of retirement at once commenced. The three traitor generals drew off their troops, and those of Mir Mudin Khan also obeyed orders, and fell back. Saint Frais, however, refused to obey. He saw the ruin which would follow upon the retreat, and he pluckily continued his fire.

Clive, after the council had decided that nothing should be done till nightfall, had lain down in the hunting box to snatch a little repose, his thoughts having kept him awake all night. Major Kilpatrick, seeing the retirement of the enemy; and that the French artillerymen remained, unsupported, on the mound; at once advanced, with two hundred and fifty Europeans, and two guns, against it; sending word to Clive what he was doing. Clive, angry that any officer should have taken so important a step, without consulting him, at once ran after the detachment, and severely reprimanded Major Kilpatrick, for moving from the grove without orders. Immediately, however, that he comprehended the whole position, he recognized the wisdom of the course Kilpatrick had taken, and sent him back to the grove, to order the whole force to advance.

Saint Frais, seeing that he was entirely unsupported, fired a last shot; and then, limbering up, fell back in perfect order to the redoubt at the corner of the intrenchment, where he again posted his field pieces, in readiness for action.

Looking round the field, Clive saw that two of the divisions which formed the arc of the circle were marching back towards the intrenchments; but that the third, that on the left of their line, had wheeled round and was marching towards the rear of the grove. Not having received the letter which Meer Jaffier had written to him, he supposed that this movement indicated an intention to attack his baggage; and he therefore detached some European troops, with a field gun, to check the advance. Upon the gun opening fire, the enemy's division halted. It ceased its advance, but continued apart from the rest of the enemy. In the meantime, Clive had arrived upon the mound which Saint Frais had left; and, planting his guns there, opened fire upon the enemy within their intrenchments.

The Indian soldiers and inferior officers, knowing nothing of the treachery of their chiefs, were indignant at being thus cannonaded in their intrenchments by a foe so inferior in strength; and horse, foot, and artillery poured out again from the intrenchments, and attacked the British.

The battle now raged in earnest. Clive posted half his infantry and artillery on the mound of the tank nearest to the enemy's intrenchments, and the greater part of the rest on rising ground, two hundred yards to the left of it; while he placed a hundred and sixty picked shots, Europeans and natives, behind the tank close to the intrenchments, with orders to keep up a continuous musketry fire upon the enemy, as they sallied out.

The enemy fought bravely. Saint Frais worked his guns unflinchingly at the redoubt, the infantry poured in volley after volley, the cavalry made desperate charges right up to the British lines. But they had no leader, and were fighting against men well commanded, and confident in themselves. Clive observed that the division on the enemy's extreme left remained inactive, and detached from the army; and it, for the first time, struck him that this was the division of Meer Jaffier. Relieved for the safety of his baggage, and from the attack which had hitherto threatened in his rear, he at once determined to carry the hill in advance of Saint Frais's battery, and the redoubt occupied by the French leader.

Strong columns were sent against each position. The hill was carried without opposition, and then so heavy and searching a fire was poured into the intrenched camp that the enemy began to fall back, in utter confusion. Saint Frais, finding himself isolated and alone in the redoubt, as he had before been on the mound, was forced to retire.

At five o'clock the battle was over, and the camp of the Nabob of Bengal in the possession of the English. The British loss was trifling. Seven European and sixteen native soldiers were killed, thirteen Europeans and thirty-six natives wounded. It was one of the decisive battles of the world, for the fate of India hung in the balance. Had Clive been defeated, and his force annihilated, as it must have been if beaten, the English would have been swept out of Bengal. The loss of that presidency would have had a decided effect on the struggle in Madras, where the British were, with the greatest difficulty, maintaining themselves against the French.

Henceforth Bengal, the richest province in India, belonged to the English; for although, for a time, they were content to recognize Meer Jaffier and his successors as its nominal rulers, these were but puppets in their hands, and they were virtual masters of the province.

After the battle, Meer Jaffier arrived. Conscious of his own double-dealing, he by no means felt sure of the reception he should meet with. It suited Clive, however, to ignore the doubtful part he had played, and he was saluted as Nabob of Bengal.

It would have been far better for him, had he remained one of the great chiefs of Bengal. The enormous debt, with which Clive and his colleagues had saddled him, crushed him. The sum was so vast that it was only by imposing the most onerous taxation upon his people that he was enabled to pay it, and the discontent excited proved his destruction.

Omichund had no greater reason for satisfaction, at the part which he had played in the ruin of his country. The fact that he had been deceived, by the forged treaty, was abruptly and brutally communicated to him; and the blow broke his heart. He shortly afterwards became insane, and died before eighteen months were over.

Suraja Dowlah fled to Moorshedabad, where the remnants of his army followed him. At first, the nabob endeavoured to secure their fidelity by issuing a considerable amount of pay. Then, overpowered by his fears of treachery, he sent off the ladies of the zenana, and all his treasures, on elephants; and, a few hours afterwards, he himself, accompanied by his favourite wife, and a slave with a casket of his most valuable jewels, fled in disguise.

A boat had been prepared, and lay in readiness at the wharf of the palace. Rowing day and night against the stream, the boat reached Rajmahal, ninety miles distant, on the night of the fourth day following his flight. Here the rowers were so knocked up, by their exertions, that it was impossible to proceed further; and they took refuge in a deserted hut, by the bank.

The following morning, however, they were seen by a fakir, whose ears the young tyrant had had cut off, thirteen months previously; and this man, recognizing the nabob even in his disguise, at once took the news to Meer Jaffier's brother, who happened to reside in the town. The latter immediately sent a party of his retainers, who captured the nabob without difficulty. He was again placed in the boat, and taken back to Moorshedabad, where he was led into the presence of Meer Jaffier.

The wretched young man implored the mercy of his triumphant successor, the man who owed station and rank and wealth to his grandfather; and who had, nevertheless, betrayed him to the English. His entreaties so far moved Meer Jaffier that he was irresolute, for a time, as to the course he should pursue. His son, however, Mirav, a youth of about the same age as the deposed nabob, insisted that it was folly to show mercy; as Meer Jaffier would never be safe, so long as Suraja Dowlah remained alive; and his father, at last, assigned the captive to his keeping, knowing well what the result would be.

In the night, Suraja Dowlah was murdered. His mangled remains were, in the morning, placed on an elephant, and exposed to the gaze of the populace and soldiery.

Suraja Dowlah was undoubtedly a profligate and rapacious tyrant. In the course of a few months, he alienated his people, and offended a great number of his most powerful chiefs. The war which he undertook against the English, although at the moment unprovoked, must still be regarded as a patriotic one; and, had he not soiled his victory by the massacre of the prisoners, which he first permitted and then approved, the English would have had no just cause of complaint against him.

From the day of the arrival of Clive at Calcutta, he was doomed. It is certain that the nabob would not have remained faithful to his engagements, when the danger which wrung the concessions from him had passed. Nevertheless, the whole of the circumstances which followed the signature of the treaty, the manner in which the unhappy youth was alternately cajoled and bullied to his ruin, the loathsome treachery in which those around him engaged, with the connivance of the English; and, lastly, the murder in cold blood, which Meer Jaffier, our creature, was allowed to perpetrate; rendered the whole transaction one of the blackest in the annals of English history.



Chapter 24: Mounted Infantry.

A few days after Plassey, Colonel Clive sent for Charlie.

"Marryat," he said, "I must send you back, with two hundred men, to Madras. The governor there has been writing to me, by every ship which has come up the coast, begging me to move down with the bulk of the force, as soon as affairs are a little settled here. That is out of the question. There are innumerable matters to be arranged. Meer Jaffier must be sustained. The French under Law must be driven entirely out of Bengal. The Dutch must be dealt with. Altogether, I have need of every moment of my time, and of every man under my orders, for at least two years.

"However, I shall at once raise a Bengal native army, and so release the Sepoys of Madras. If there be any special and sore need, I must, of course, denude myself here of troops, to succour Madras; but I hope it will not come to that. In the meantime, I propose that you shall take back two hundred of the Madras Europeans. Lawrence will be glad to have you, and your chances of fighting are greater there than they will be here. Bengal is overawed, and so long as I maintain the force I now have, it is unlikely in the extreme to rise; whereas battles and sieges, great and small, are the normal condition of Madras."

The next day Charlie, with two hundred European troops, marched down towards Calcutta. Clive had told him to select any officer he pleased to accompany him, as second in command; and he chose Peters, who, seeing that there were likely to be far more exciting times in Madras than in Bengal at present, was very glad to accompany him. Three days after reaching Calcutta, Charlie and his party embarked on board a ship, which conveyed them without adventure to Madras.

The authorities were glad, indeed, of the reinforcement; for the country was disturbed from end to end. Since the departure of every available man for Calcutta, the Company had been able to afford but little aid to Muhammud Ali, and the authority of the latter had dwindled to a mere shadow, in the Carnatic. The Mahrattas made incursions in all directions. The minor chiefs revolted and refused to pay tribute, and many of them entered into alliance with the French. Disorder everywhere reigned in the Carnatic, and Trichinopoli was, again, the one place which Muhammud Ali held.

The evening after landing, Charlie Marryat had a long chat with Colonel Lawrence; who, after explaining to him exactly the condition of affairs in the country, asked him to tell him, frankly, what command he would like to receive.

"I have thought for some time," Charlie said, "that the establishment of a small force of really efficient cavalry, trained to act as infantry, also, would be invaluable. The Mahratta horsemen, by their rapid movements, set our infantry in defiance; and the native horse of our allies are useless against them. I am convinced that two hundred horsemen, trained and drilled like our cavalry at home, would ride through any number of them. In a country like this, where every petty rajah has his castle, cavalry alone could, however, do little. They must be able to act as infantry, and should have a couple of little four-pounders to take about with them. A force like this would do more to keep order in the Carnatic than one composed of infantry, alone, of ten times its strength. It could act as a police force, call upon petty chiefs who refuse to pay their share of the revenue, restore order in disturbed places, and permit the peasants to carry on their agricultural work, upon which the revenue of the Company depends; and, altogether, render valuable services.

"Among the soldiers who came down with me is a sergeant who was at one time a trooper in an English regiment. He exchanged to come out with the 39th to India, and has again exchanged into the Company's service. I would make him drill instructor, if you will give him a commission as ensign. Peters I should like as my second in command; and, if you approve of the plan, I should be very much obliged if you would get him his step as captain. He's a good officer, but has not had such luck as I have."

Colonel Lawrence was very much pleased at the idea, and gave Charlie full authority to carry it out. The work of enlistment at once commenced. Hossein made an excellent recruiting sergeant. He went into the native bazaars; and by telling of the exploits of Charlie at Ambur and Suwarndrug, and holding out bright prospects of the plunder which such a force would be likely to obtain, he succeeded in recruiting a hundred and fifty of his co-religionists. In those days, fighting was a trade in India; and in addition to the restless spirits of the local communities, great numbers of the hardy natives of northern India, Afghans, Pathans, and others, were scattered over India, ever ready to enlist in the service of the highest bidder. Among such men as these, Hossein had no difficulty in obtaining a hundred and fifty picked horsemen.

Charlie had determined that his force should consist of four troops, each of fifty strong. Of these one would be composed of Europeans, and he was permitted to take this number from the party he had brought down. He had no difficulty in obtaining volunteers, for as soon as the nature of the force was known, the men were eager to engage in it. To this troop, the two little field pieces would be committed.

A few days after the scheme had been sanctioned, Ensign Anstey was at work drilling the recruits as cavalry. Charlie and Peters were instructed by him, also, in the drill and words of command, and were soon able to assist. Two months were spent in severe work and, at the end of that time, the little regiment were able to execute all simple cavalry manoeuvres with steadiness and regularity. The natives were all men who had lived on horseback from their youth, and therefore required no teaching to ride.

They were also, at the end of that time, able to act as infantry, with as much regularity as the ordinary Sepoys. When so engaged, four horses were held by one man, so that a hundred and fifty men were available for fighting on foot.

The work had been unusually severe, but as the officers did not spare themselves, and Charlie had promised a present to each man of the troop, when fit for service, they had worked with alacrity, and had taken great interest in learning their new duties. At the end of two months, they were inspected by Colonel Lawrence and Governor Pigot, and both expressed their highest gratification and surprise at their efficiency, and anticipated great benefits would arise from the organization.

So urgent, indeed, was the necessity that something should be done for the restoration of order, that Charlie had with difficulty obtained the two months necessary to attain the degree of perfection which he deemed necessary.

The day after the inspection, the troop marched out from Madras. Ensign Anstey commanded the white troop, the other three were led by native officers. Captain Peters commanded the squadron composed of the white troop and one of the others. A Lieutenant Hallowes, whom Peters knew to be a hard working and energetic officer, was, at Charlie's request, appointed to the command of the other squadron. He himself commanded the whole.

They had been ordered, in the first place, to move to Arcot, which was held by a garrison of Muhammud Ali. The whole of the country around was greatly disturbed. French intrigues, and the sight of the diminished power of the English, had caused most of the minor chiefs in that neighbourhood to throw off their allegiance. A body of Mahratta horse were ravaging the country districts; and it was against these that Charlie determined, in the first place, to act.

He had been permitted to have his own way in the clothing and arming of his force. Each man carried a musket, which had been shortened some six inches, and hung in slings from the saddle, the muzzle resting in a piece of leather, technically termed a bucket. The ammunition pouch was slung on the other side of the saddle, and could be fastened in an instant, by two straps, to the belts which the troopers wore round their waists. The men were dressed in brown, thick cotton cloth, called karkee. Round their black forage caps was wound a long length of blue and white cotton cloth, forming a turban, with the ends hanging down to protect the back of the neck and spine from the sun.

Having obtained news that the Mahratta horse, two thousand strong, were pillaging at a distance of six miles from the town, Charlie set off the day following his arrival to meet them. The Mahrattas had notice of his coming; but hearing that the force consisted only of two hundred horse, they regarded it with contempt.