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The situation of India was such that scarcely any aggression could be without a
pretext, either in old laws or in recent practice. All rights were in a state of
utter uncertainty; and the Europeans who took part in the disputes of the
natives confounded the confusion, by applying to Asiatic politics the public law
of the West, and analogies drawn from the feudal system. If it was convenient to
treat a Nabob as an independent prince, there was an excellent plea for doing
so. He was independent, in fact. If it was convenient to treat him as a mere
deputy of the Court of Delhi, there was no difficulty; for he was so in theory.
If it was convenient to consider his office as an hereditary dignity, or as a
dignity held during life only, or as a dignity held only during the good
pleasure of the Mogul, arguments and precedents might be found for every one of
those views. The party who had the heir of Baber in their hands, represented him
as the undoubted, the legitimate, the absolute sovereign, whom all subordinate
authorities were bound to obey. The party against whom his name was used did not
want plausible pretexts for maintaining that the empire was in fact dissolved,
and that though it might be decent to treat the Mogul with respect, as a
venerable relic of an order of things which had passed away, it was absurd to
regard him as the real master of Hindostan.
In the year 1748, died one of the most powerful of the new masters of India, the
great Nizam al Mulk, Viceroy of the Deccan. His authority descended to his son,
Nazir Jung. Of the provinces subject to this high functionary, the Carnatic was
the wealthiest and the most extensive. It was governed by an ancient Nabob,
whose name the English corrupted into Anaverdy Khan.
But there were pretenders to the government both of the viceroyalty and of the
subordinate province. Mirzapha Jung, a grandson of Nizam al Mulk, appeared as
the competitor of Nazir Jung. Chunda Sahib, son-in-law of a former Nabob of the
Carnatic, disputed the title of Anaverdy Khan. In the unsettled state of Indian
law it was easy for both Mirzapha Jung and Chunda Sahib to make out something
like a claim of right. In a society altogether disorganized, they had no
difficulty in finding greedy adventurers to follow their standards. They united
their interests, invaded the Carnatic, and applied for assistance to the French,
whose fame had been raised by their success against the English in a recent war
on the coast of Coromandel.
Nothing could have happened more pleasing to the subtle and ambitious Dupleix.
To make a Nabob of the Carnatic, to make a Viceroy of the Deccan, to rule under
their names the whole of Southern India; this was indeed an attractive prospect.
He allied himself with the pretenders, and sent four hundred French soldiers,
and two thousand sepoys, disciplined after the European fashion, to the
assistance of his confederates. A battle was fought. The French distinguished
themselves greatly. Anaverdy Khan was defeated and slain. His son, Mahommed Ali,
who was afterwards well known in England as the Nabob of Arcot, and who owes to
the eloquence of Burke a most unenviable immortality, fled with a scanty remnant
of his army to Trichinopoly; and the conquerors became at once masters of almost
every part of the Carnatic.
This was but the beginning of the greatness of Dupleix. After some months of
fighting, negotiation and intrigue, his ability and good fortune seemed to have
prevailed everywhere. Nazir Jung perished by the hands of his own followers;
Mirzapha Jung was master of the Deccan; and the triumph of French arms and
French policy was complete. At Pondicherry all was exultation and festivity.
Salutes were fired from the batteries, and Te Deum sung in the churches. The new
Nizam came thither to visit his allies; and the ceremony of his installation was
performed there with great pomp. Dupleix, dressed in the garb worn by
Mohammedans of the highest rank, entered the town in the same palanquin with the
Nizam, and, in the pageant which followed, took precedence of all the court. He
was declared Governor of India from the river Krishna to Cape Comorin, a country
about as large as France, with authority superior even to that of Chunda Sahib.
He was entrusted with the command of seven thousand cavalry. It was announced
that no mint would be suffered to exist in the Carnatic except that at
Pondicherry. A large portion of the treasures which former Viceroys of the
Deccan had accumulated had found its way into the coffers of the French
governor. It was rumored that he had received two hundred thousand pounds
sterling in money, besides many valuable jewels. In fact, there could scarcely
be any limit to his gains. He now ruled thirty millions of people with almost
absolute power. No honor or emolument could be obtained from the government but
by his intervention. No petition, unless signed by him, was perused by the
Nizam.
Mirzapha Jung survived his elevation only a few months, But another prince of
the same house was raised to the throne by French influence, and ratified all
the promises of his predecessor. Dupleix was now the greatest potentate in
India.
His countrymen boasted that his name was mentioned with awe even in the chambers
of the palace of Delhi. The native population looked with amazement on the
progress which, in the short space of four years, an European adventurer had
made towards dominion in Asia. Nor was the vainglorious Frenchman content with
the reality of power. He loved to display his greatness with arrogant
ostentation before the eyes of his subjects and of his rivals. Near the spot
where his policy had obtained its chief triumph, by the fall of Nazir Jung, and
the elevation of Mirzapha, he determined to erect a column, on the four sides of
which four pompous inscriptions, in four languages, should proclaim his glory to
all the nations of the East. Medals stamped with emblems of his successes were
buried beneath the foundations of his stately pillar, and round it arose a town
bearing the haughty name of Dupleix Fatihabad, which is, being interpreted, the
City of the Victory of Dupleix.
The English had made some feeble and irresolute attempts to stop the rapid and
brilliant career of the rival Company, and continued to recognize Mahommed Ali
as Nabob of the Carnatic. But the dominions of Mahommed Ali consisted of
Trichinopoly alone: and Trichinopoly was now invested by Chunda Sahib and his
French auxiliaries. To raise the siege seemed impossible. The small force which
was then at Madras had no commander. Major Lawrence had returned to England; and
not a single officer of established character remained in the settlement. The
natives had learned to look with contempt on the mighty nation which was soon to
conquer and to rule them. They had seen the French colors flying on Fort St.
George; they had seen the chiefs of the English factory led in triumph through
the streets of Pondicherry; they had seen the arms and counsels of Dupleix
everywhere successful, while the opposition which the authorities of Madras had
made to his progress, had served only to expose their own weakness, and to
heighten his glory. At this moment, the valor and genius of an obscure English
youth suddenly turned the tide of fortune.
Clive was now twenty-five years old. After hesitating for some time between a
military and a commercial life, he had at length been placed in a post which
partook of both characters, that of commissary to the troops, with the rank of
captain. The present emergency called forth all his powers. He represented to
his superiors that unless some vigorous effort were made, Trichinopoly would
fall, the house of Anaverdy Khan would perish, and the French would become the
real masters of the whole peninsula of India. It was absolutely necessary to
strike some daring blow. If an attack were made on Arcot, the capital of the
Carnatic, and the favorite residence of the Nabobs, it was not impossible that
the siege of Trichinopoly would be raised. The heads of the English settlement,
now thoroughly alarmed by the success of Dupleix, and apprehensive that, in the
event of a new war between France and Great Britain, Madras would be instantly
taken and destroyed, approved of Clive's plan, and entrusted the execution of it
to himself. The young captain was put at the head of two hundred English
soldiers, and three hundred sepoys, armed and disciplined after the European
fashion. Of the eight officers who commanded this little force under him, only
two had ever been in action, and four of the eight were factors of the Company,
whom Clive's example had induced to offer their services. The weather was
stormy; but Clive pushed on, through thunder, lightning, and rain, to the gates
of Arcot. The garrison, in a panic, evacuated the fort, and the English entered
it without a blow.
But Clive well knew that he should not be suffered to retain undisturbed
possession of his conquest. He instantly began to collect provisions, to throw
up works, and to make preparations for sustaining a siege. The garrison, which
had fled at his approach, had now recovered from its dismay, and, having been
swelled by large reinforcements from the neighborhood to a force of three
thousand men, encamped close to the town. At dead of night, Clive marched out of
the fort, attacked the camp by surprise, slew great numbers, dispersed the rest,
and returned to his quarters without having lost a single man.
The intelligence of these events was soon carried to Chunda Sahib, who, with his
French allies, was besieging Trichinopoly. He immediately detached four thousand
men from his camp, and sent them to Arcot. They were speedily joined by the
remains of the force which Clive had lately scattered. They were further
strengthened by two thousand men from Vellore, and by a still more important
reinforcement of a hundred and fifty French soldiers whom Dupleix dispatched
from Pondicherry. The whole of his army, amounting to about ten thousand men,
was under the command of Rajah Sahib, son of Chunda Sahib.
Rajah Sahib proceeded to invest the fort of Arcot, which seemed quite incapable
of sustaining a siege. The walls were ruinous, the ditches dry, the ramparts too
narrow to admit the guns, the battlements too low to protect the soldiers. The
little garrison had been greatly reduced by casualties. It now consisted of a
hundred and twenty Europeans and two hundred sepoys. Only four officers were
left; the stock of provisions was scanty; and the commander, who had to conduct
the defense under circumstances so discouraging, was a young man of
five-and-twenty, who had been bred a bookkeeper.
During fifty days the siege went on. During fifty days the young captain
maintained the defense, with a firmness, vigilance, and ability, which would
have done honor to the oldest marshal in Europe. The breach, however, increased
day by day. The garrison began to feel the pressure of hunger. Under such
circumstances, any troops so scantily provided with officers might have been
expected to show signs of insubordination; and the danger was peculiarly great
in a force composed of men differing widely from each other in extraction,
color, language, manners, and religion. But the devotion of the little band to
its chief surpassed anything that is related of the Tenth Legion of Caesar, or
of the Old Guard of Napoleon. The sepoys came to Clive, not to complain of their
scanty fare, but to propose that all the grain should be given to the Europeans,
who required more nourishment than the natives of Asia. The thin gruel, they
said, which was strained away from the rice, would suffice for themselves.
History contains no more touching instance of military fidelity, or of the
influence of a commanding mind.
An attempt made by the government of Madras to relieve the place had failed. But
there was hope from another quarter. A body of six thousand Mahrattas, half
soldiers, half robbers, under the command of a chief named Morari Row, had been
hired to assist Mahommed Ali; but thinking the French power irresistible, and
the triumph of Chunda Sahib certain, they had hitherto remained inactive on the
frontiers of the Carnatic. The fame of the defense of Arcot roused them from
their torpor. Morari Row declared that he had never before believed that
Englishmen could fight, but that he would willingly help them since he saw that
they had spirit to help themselves. Rajah Sahib learned that the Mahrattas were
in motion. It was necessary for him to be expeditious. He first tried
negotiation. He offered large bribes to Clive, which were rejected with scorn.
He vowed that, if his proposals were not accepted, he would instantly storm the
fort, and put every man in it to the sword. Clive told him in reply, with
characteristic haughtiness, that his father was an usurper, that his army was a
rabble, and that he would do well to think twice before he sent such poltroons
into a breach defended by English soldiers.
Rajah Sahib determined to storm the fort. The day was well suited to a bold
military enterprise. It was the great Mahommedan festival which is sacred to the
memory of Hosein, the son of Ali. The history of Islam contains nothing more
touching than the event which gave rise to that solemnity. The mournful legend
relates how the chief of the Fatimites, when all his brave followers had
perished round him, drank his latest draught of water, and uttered his latest
prayer, how the assassins carried his head in triumph, how the tyrant smote the
lifeless lips with his staff, and how a few old men recollected with tears that
they had seen those lips pressed to the lips of the Prophet of God. After the
lapse of near twelve centuries, the recurrence of this solemn season excites the
fiercest and saddest emotions in the bosoms of the devout Moslem of India. They
work themselves up to such agonies of rage and lamentation that some, it is
said, have given up the ghost from the mere effect of mental excitement. They
believe that, whoever, during this festival, falls in arms against the infidels,
atones by his death for all the sins of his life, and passes at once to the
garden of the Houris. It was at this time that Rajah Sahib determined to assault
Arcot. Stimulating drugs were employed to aid the effect of religious zeal, and
the besiegers, drunk with enthusiasm, drunk with bang, rushed furiously to the
attack.
Clive had received secret intelligence of the design, had made his arrangements,
and, exhausted by fatigue, had thrown himself on his bed. He was awakened by the
alarm, and was instantly at his post. The enemy advanced, driving before them
elephants whose foreheads were armed with iron plates. It was expected that the
gates would yield to the shock of these living battering-rams. But the huge
beasts no sooner felt the English musket-balls than they turned round, and
rushed furiously away, trampling on the multitude which had urged them forward.
A raft was launched on the water which filled one part of the ditch. Clive,
perceiving that his gunners at that post did not understand their business, took
the management of a piece of artillery himself, and cleared the raft in a few
minutes. When the moat was dry the assailants mounted with great boldness; but
they were received with a fire so heavy and so well directed, that it soon
quelled the courage even of fanaticism and of intoxication. The rear ranks of
the English kept the front ranks supplied with a constant succession of loaded
muskets, and every shot told on the living mass below. After three desperate
onsets, the besiegers retired behind the ditch.
The struggle lasted about an hour. Four hundred of the assailants fell. The
garrison lost only five or six men. The besieged passed an anxious night,
looking for a renewal of the attack. But when the day broke, the enemy were no
more to be seen. They had retired, leaving to the English several guns and a
large quantity of ammunition.
The news was received at Fort St. George with transports of joy and pride. Clive
was justly regarded as a man equal to any command. Two hundred English soldiers
and seven hundred sepoys were sent to him, and with this force he instantly
commenced offensive operations. He took the fort of Timery, effected a junction
with a division of Morari Row's army, and hastened, by forced marches, to attack
Rajah Sahib, who was at the head of about five thousand men, of whom three
hundred were French. The action was sharp; but Clive gained a complete victory.
The military chest of Rajah Sahib fell into the hands of the conquerors. Six
hundred sepoys, who had served in the enemy's army, came over to Clive's
quarters, and were taken into the British service. Conjeveram surrendered
without a blow. The governor of Arnee deserted Chunda Sahib, and recognized the
title of Mahommed Ali.
Had the entire direction of the war been entrusted to Clive, it would probably
have been brought to a speedy close. But the timidity and incapacity which
appeared in all the movements of the English, except where he was personally
present, protracted the struggle. The Mahrattas muttered that his soldiers were
of a different race from the British whom they found elsewhere. The effect of
this languor was that in no long time Rajah Sahib, at the head of a considerable
army, in which were four hundred French troops, appeared almost under the guns
of Fort St. George, and laid waste the villas and gardens of the gentlemen of
the English settlement. But he was again encountered and defeated by Clive. More
than a hundred of the French were killed or taken, a loss more serious than that
of thousands of natives. The victorious army marched from the field of battle to
Fort St. David. On the road lay the City of the Victory of Dupleix, and the
stately monument which was designed to commemorate the triumphs of France in the
East. Clive ordered both the city and the monument to be razed to the ground. He
was induced, we believe, to take this step, not by personal or national
malevolence, but by a just and profound policy. The town and its pompous name,
the pillar and its vaunting inscriptions, were among the devices by which
Dupleix had laid the public mind of India under a spell. This spell it was
Clive's business to break. The natives had been taught that France was
confessedly the first power in Europe, and that the English did not presume to
dispute her supremacy. No measure could be more effectual for the removing of
this delusion than the public and solemn demolition of the French trophies.
The government of Madras, encouraged by these events, determined to send a
strong detachment, under Clive, to reinforce the garrison of Trichinopoly. But
just at this conjuncture, Major Lawrence arrived from England, and assumed the
chief command. From the waywardness and impatience of control which had
characterized Clive, both at school and in the counting-house, it might have
been expected that he would not, after such achievements, act with zeal and good
humor in a subordinate capacity. But Lawrence had early treated him with
kindness; and it is bare justice to Clive, to say that, proud and overbearing as
he was, kindness was never thrown away upon him. He cheerfully placed himself
under the orders of his old friend, and exerted himself as strenuously in the
second post as he could have done in the first. Lawrence well knew the value of
such assistance. Though himself gifted with no intellectual faculty higher than
plain good sense, he fully appreciated the powers of his brilliant coadjutor.
Though he had made a methodical study of military tactics, and, like all men
regularly bred to a profession, was disposed to look with disdain on
interlopers, he had yet liberality enough to acknowledge that Clive was an
exception to common rules. "Some people," he wrote, "are pleased to term Captain
Clive fortunate and lucky; but, in my opinion, from the knowledge I have of the
gentleman, he deserved and might expect from his conduct everything as it fell
out;--a man of an undaunted resolution, of a cool temper, and of a presence of
mind which never left him in the greatest danger--born a soldier; for, without a
military education of any sort, or much conversing with any of the profession,
from his judgment and good sense, he led on an army like an experienced officer
and a brave soldier, with a prudence that certainly warranted success."
The French had no commander to oppose to the two friends. Dupleix, not inferior
in talents for negotiation and intrigue to any European who has borne a part in
the revolutions of India, was ill qualified to direct in person military
operations. He had not been bred a soldier, and had no inclination to become
one. His enemies accused him of personal cowardice; and he defended himself in a
strain worthy of Captain Bobadil. He kept away from shot, he said, because
silence and tranquility were propitious to his genius, and he found it difficult
to pursue his meditations amidst the noise of fire-arms. He was thus under the
necessity of intrusting to others the execution of his great warlike designs;
and he bitterly complained that he was ill served. He had indeed been assisted
by one officer of eminent merit, the celebrated Bussy. But Bussy had marched
northward with the Nizam, and was fully employed in looking after his own
interests, and those of France, at the court of that prince. Among the officers
who remained with Dupleix, there was not a single man of capacity; and many of
them were boys, at whose ignorance and folly the common soldiers laughed.
The English triumphed everywhere. The besiegers of Trichinopoly were themselves
besieged and compelled to capitulate. Chunda Sahib fell into the hands of the
Mahrattas, and was put to death, at the instigation probably of his competitor,
Mahommed Ali. The spirit of Dupleix, however, was unconquerable, and his
resources inexhaustible. From his employers in Europe he no longer received help
or countenance. They condemned his policy. They gave him no pecuniary
assistance. They sent him for troops only the sweepings of the galleys. Yet
still he persisted, intrigued, bribed, promised, lavished his private fortune,
strained his credit, procured new diplomas from Delhi, raised up new enemies to
the government of Madras on every side, and found tools even among the allies of
the English Company. But all was in vain. Slowly, but steadily, the power of
Britain continued to increase, and that of France to decline.
The health of Clive had never been good during his residence in India; and his
constitution was now so much impaired that he determined to return to England.
Before his departure he undertook a service of considerable difficulty, and
performed it with his usual vigor and dexterity. The forts of Covelong and
Chingleput were occupied by French garrisons. It was determined to send a force
against them. But the only force available for this purpose was of such a
description that no officer but Clive would risk his reputation by commanding
it. It consisted of five hundred newly levied sepoys and two hundred recruits
who had just landed from England, and who were the worst and lowest wretches
that the Company's crimps could pick up in the flash-houses of London. Clive,
ill and exhausted as he was, undertook to make an army of this undisciplined
rabble, and marched with them to Covelong. A shot from the fort killed one of
these extraordinary soldiers; on which all the rest faced about and ran away,
and it was with the greatest difficulty that Clive rallied them. On another
occasion, the noise of a gun terrified the sentinels so much that one of them
was found, some hours later, at the bottom of a well. Clive gradually accustomed
them to danger, and, by exposing himself constantly in the most perilous
situations, shamed them into courage. He at length succeeded in forming a
respectable force out of his unpromising materials. Covelong fell. Clive learned
that a strong detachment was marching to relieve it from Chingleput. He took
measures to prevent the enemy from learning that they were too late, laid an
ambuscade for them on the road, killed a hundred of them with one fire, took
three hundred prisoners, pursued the fugitives to the gates of Chingleput, laid
siege instantly to that fastness, reputed one of the strongest in India, made a
breach, and was on the point of storming, when the French commandant capitulated
and retired with his men.
Clive returned to Madras victorious, but in a state of health which rendered it
impossible for him to remain there long. He married at this time a young lady of
the name of Maskelyne, sister of the eminent mathematician, who long held the
post of Astronomer Royal. She is described as handsome and accomplished; and her
husband's letters, it is said, contain proofs that he was devotedly attached to
her.
Almost immediately after the marriage, Clive embarked with his bride for
England. He returned a very different person from the poor slighted boy who had
been sent out ten years before to seek his fortune. He was only twenty-seven;
yet his country already respected him as one of her first soldiers. There was
then general peace in Europe. The Carnatic was the only part of the world where
the English and French were in arms against each other. The vast schemes of
Dupleix had excited no small uneasiness in the city of London; and the rapid
turn of fortune, which was chiefly owing to the courage and talents of Clive,
had been hailed with great delight. The young captain was known at the India
House by the honorable nickname of General Clive, and was toasted by that
appellation at the feasts of the Directors. On his arrival in England, he found
himself an object of general interest and admiration. The East India Company
thanked him for his services in the warmest terms, and bestowed on him a sword
set with diamonds. With rare delicacy, he refused to receive this token of
gratitude, unless a similar compliment were paid to his friend and commander,
Lawrence.
It may easily be supposed that Clive was most cordially welcomed home by his
family, who were delighted by his success, though they seem to have been hardly
able to comprehend how their naughty idle Bobby had become so great a man. His
father had been singularly hard of belief. Not until the news of the defense of
Arcot arrived in England was the old gentleman heard to growl out that, after
all, the booby had something in him. His expressions of approbation became
stronger and stronger as news arrived of one brilliant exploit after another;
and he was at length immoderately fond and proud of his son.
Clive's relations had very substantial reasons for rejoicing at his return.
Considerable sums of prize money had fallen to his share; and he had brought
home a moderate fortune, part of which he expended in extricating his father
from pecuniary difficulties, and in redeeming the family estate. The remainder
he appears to have dissipated in the course of about two years. He lived
splendidly, dressed gaily even for those times, kept a carriage and
saddle-horses, and, not content with these ways of getting rid of his money,
resorted to the most speedy and effectual of all modes of evacuation, a
contested election followed by a petition.
At the time of the general election of 1754, the Government was in a very
singular state. There was scarcely any formal opposition. The Jacobites had been
cowed by the issue of the last rebellion. The Tory party had fallen into utter
contempt. It had been deserted by all the men of talents who had belonged to it,
and had scarcely given a symptom of life during some years. The small faction
which had been held together by the influence and promises of Prince Frederic,
had been dispersed by his death. Almost every public man of distinguished
talents in the kingdom, whatever his early connections might have been, was in
office, and called himself a Whig. But this extraordinary appearance of concord
was quite delusive. The administration itself was distracted by bitter enmities
and conflicting pretensions. The chief object of its members was to depress and
supplant each other. The Prime Minister, Newcastle, weak, timid, jealous, and
perfidious, was at once detested and despised by some of the most important
members of his Government, and by none more than by Henry Fox, the
Secretary-at-War. This able, daring, and ambitious man seized every opportunity
of crossing the First Lord of the Treasury, from whom he well knew that he had
little to dread and little to hope; for Newcastle was through life equally
afraid of breaking with men of parts and of promoting them.
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