The Project Gutenberg eBook of Three Frenchmen in Bengal, by S. C. Hill.

"After some reflection, I determined to obey. I thought
that by taking presents I could avoid the inconveniences I
feared, so I arranged to start early on the morning of the 13th
with five or six persons well armed. A slight rain detained
us till 10 o'clock. On leaving I told my people that M.
Sinfray was their commandant, and ordered him, if I did not
return by 2 o'clock, to send a detachment of forty men to
meet me. We arrived at the Nawab's palace about midday.
He had retired to his harem. We were taken into the
Audience Hall, where they brought us a very bad dinner.
The Nawab, they said, would soon come. However, 5 o'clock
had struck and he had not yet dressed. During this wearisome
interval I was visited by some of the Diwans, among
others by the Arzbegi.[94] I asked him why the Nawab had
called me. He replied with an appearance of sincerity that
as the Nawab was constantly receiving complaints from the
English, about the numerous garrison we had in our Factory,
he had judged it proper to summon both Mr. Watts and
myself in order to reconcile us, and that he hoped to arrange
matters so that the English should have nothing to fear from
us nor we from them. He added that the Nawab was quite
satisfied with my behaviour, and wished me much good. At
last the Durbar hour arrives. I am warned. I pass into a
hall, where I find Mr. Watts and a number of Diwans. The
agent of the Seths is present Compliments having passed,
one of the Diwans asks me if I have anything particular to
say to Mr. Watts. I answer that I have not. Thereupon
Mr. Watts addresses me in English: 'The question is, sir,
whether you are prepared to surrender your Factory to me
and to go down to Calcutta with all your people. You will
be well treated, and will be granted the same conditions as
the gentlemen of Chandernagore. This is the Nawab's wish.'
I reply I will do nothing of the kind, that I and all those
with me are free, that if I am forced to leave Cossimbazar
I will surrender the Factory to the Nawab, and to no one else.
Mr. Watts, turning round to the Diwans, says excitedly, that
it is impossible to do anything with me, and repeats to them
word for word all that has passed between us.
"From that moment I saw clearly that the air of the
Court was not healthy for us. It was, however, necessary to
put a good face on matters. The Arzbegi and some others,
taking me aside, begged me to consider what I was doing in
refusing Mr. Watts's propositions, and said that as the Nawab
was determined to have a good understanding with the
English, he would force me to accept them. They then
asked what I intended to do. I said I intended to stay at
Cossimbazar and to oppose, to the utmost of my power, the
ambitious designs of the English. 'Well, well, what can
you do?' they replied. 'You are about a hundred Europeans;
the Nawab has no need of you; you will certainly be forced
to leave this place. It would be much better to accept the
terms offered you by Mr. Watts.' The same persons who had
begged me to do this then took Mr. Watts aside. I do not
know what they said to each other, but a quarter of an hour
after they went into the hall where the Nawab was.
"I was in the utmost impatience to know the result of
all these parleyings, so much the more as from some words
that had escaped them I had reason to think they intended
to arrest me.
"Fire or six minutes after Mr. Watts had gone to the
Nawab, the Arzbegi, accompanied by some officers and the
agents of the Seths and the English, came and told me aloud,
in the presence of some fifty persons of rank, that the Nawab
ordered me to submit myself entirely to what Mr. Watts
demanded. I told him I would not, and that it was
impossible for the Nawab to have given such an order.
I demanded to be presented to him. 'The Nawab,' they
said, 'does not wish to see you.' I replied, 'It was he who
summoned me; I will not go away till I have seen him.'
The Arzbegi saw I had no intention of giving way, and that
I was well supported, for at this very moment word was
brought of the arrival of our grenadiers, who had been
ordered to come and meet me. Disappointed at not seeing
me appear, they had advanced to the very gates of the palace.
The Arzbegi, not knowing what would be the result of this
affair, and wishing to get out of the scrape and to throw the
burden of it on to the Seths' agent, said to him, 'Do you
speak, then; this affair concerns you more than us.' The
Seths' agent wished to speak, but I did not give him time.
I said I would not listen to him, that I did not recognize
him as having any authority, and that I had no business
at all with him. Thereupon the Arzbegi went back to the
Nawab and told him I would not listen to reason, and that
I demanded to speak to him. 'Well, let him come,' said
the Nawab, 'but he must come alone.' At the same time
he asked Mr. Watts to withdraw and wait for him in a
cabinet. The order to appear being given me, I wish to
go—another difficulty! The officers with me do not wish to
let me go alone! A great debate between them and the
Nawab's officers! At last, giving way to my entreaties,
and on my assuring them that I have no fears, I persuade
them to be quiet and to let me go.
"I presented myself before the Nawab, who returned my
salute in a kindly manner. As soon as I was seated, he told
me, in a shamefaced way, that I must either accept Mr.
Watts's proposals, or must certainly leave his territories.
Your nation is the cause, he said, of all the importunities I
now suffer from the English. I do not wish to put the whole country
in trouble for your sake. You are not strong enough to defend
yourselves; you must give way. You ought to remember that when I had
need of your assistance you always refused it. You ought not to
expect assistance from me now.
"It must be confessed that, after all our behaviour to
him, I had not much to reply. I noticed, however, that the
Nawab kept his eyes cast down, and that it was, as it were,
against his will that he paid me this compliment. I told
him I should be dishonoured if I accepted Mr. Watts's proposals,
but that as he was absolutely determined to expel us
from his country, I was ready to withdraw, and that as soon
as I had the necessary passports I would go towards Patna.
At this every one in concert, except the Nawab and Coja
Wajid, cried out that I could not take that road, that the
Nawab would not consent to it. I asked what road they
wished me to take. They said I must go towards Midnapur
or Cuttack. I answered that the English might at any
moment march in that direction and fall upon me. They
replied I must get out of the difficulty as best I could. The
Nawab, meanwhile, kept his face bent down, listening
attentively, but saying nothing. Wishing to force him to
speak, I asked if it was his intention to cause me to fall into
the hands of my enemies? 'No, no,' replied the Nawab,
'take what road you please, and may God conduct you.' I
stood up and thanked him, received the betel,[95] and went out."

"but as he did not dare to keep him in his service for fear
of offending the English, he told him that at present it was
fit that he should depart; but that if anything new should
happen he would send for him again. 'Send for me again?'
answered Law. 'Rest assured, my Lord Nawab, that this is
the last time we shall see each other. Remember my words: we
shall never meet again. It is nearly impossible."

"Mr. Law I have put out of the city, and have wrote
expressly to my Naib[96] at Patna to turn him and his attendants
out of the bounds of his Subaship, and that he shall not
suffer them to stay in any place within it."[97]

"They had 100 Europeans, 60 Tellingees, 30 hackerys"
(i.e. bullock-waggons) "and 4 elephants with them."[98]

"To satisfy him we should have been always in motion
and yet not advancing; this did not suit us. It was of the
utmost importance to arrive at some place where I could
find means for the equipment of my troop. We were
destitute of everything."

"The notorious Ranjit Rai was driven in disgrace from
the Durbar, banished, and assassinated on the road. It was
said he had received 2 lakhs from the English to apply his
masters' seal unknown to them. I can hardly believe this.
This agent was attached to the English only because he knew
the Seths were devoted to them."

"Never was a conspiracy conducted as publicly and with
such indiscretion as this was, both by the Moors and the
English. Nothing else was talked about in all the English
settlements, and whilst every place echoed with the noise of
it, the Nawab, who had a number of spies, was ignorant of
everything. Nothing can prove more clearly the general
hatred which was felt towards him."[99]

"I complained of the delay in the strongest terms to
Ramnarain, who received the packets from the Nawab, but it
was quite useless. The Nawab was betrayed by those whom
he thought most attached to him. The Faujdar of Rajmehal
used to stop all his messengers and detain them as long as
he thought fit."

"as slowness of motion seems to be of etiquette with the
people of Hindustan, the disbursing of the money took up
so much time that when M. Law was come down as far
Rajmehal, he found that all was over."

"In saving Siraj-ud-daula we should have scored a great
success, but possibly he would have been saved for a short
time only. He would have found enemies and traitors
wherever he might have presented himself in the countries
supposed to be subject to him. No one would have acknowledged
him. Forced by Mir Jafar and the English to flee to
a foreign country, he would have been a burden to us rather
than an assistance.
"In India no one knows what it is to stand by an
unfortunate man. The first idea which suggests itself is to
plunder him of the little[102] which remains to him. Besides,
a character like that of Siraj-ud-daula could nowhere find a
real friend."

"himself one of the first that carried the news of his defeat
to the capital, which he reached that night."

"On the 16th of July we arrived at Dinapur, eight miles
above Patna, where I soon saw we had no time to lose.
The Raja of Patna himself would not have troubled us much.
By means of our boats we could have avoided him as we
pleased, for though our fleet was in a very bad condition,
still it could have held its own against the naval forces
of Bengal, i.e. the Indian forces, but the English were advancing,
commanded by Major Coote. As the English call
themselves the masters of the aquatic element, it became us
the less to wait for them, when we knew they had stronger
and more numerous boats than we had. Possibly we could
have outsailed them, but we did not wish to give them the
pleasure of seeing us flee. On the 18th instant an order
from the Raja instructed me in the name of Mir Jafar to
halt—no doubt to wait for the English—whilst another on his
own part advised me to hurry off. Some small detachments
of horsemen appeared along the bank, apparently to hinder
us from getting provisions or to lay violent hands on the
boatmen. On this we set sail, resolved to quit all the
dependencies of Bengal. In spite of ourselves we had to
halt at Chupra, twenty-two miles higher up, because our
rowers refused to go further: prayers and threats all seemed
useless. I thought the English had found some means to
gain them over. The boats did not belong to us, but we
should have had little scruple in seizing them had our
Europeans known how to manage them. Unfortunately,
they knew nothing about it. The boats in Bengal have no
keel, and consequently do not carry sail well. So we lost
two days in discussion with the boatmen, but at last, by
doubling their pay, terms were made, and five days after, on
the 25th of July, we arrived at Ghazipur, the first place of
importance in the provinces of Suja-ud-daula, Viceroy of the
Subahs of Oudh, Lucknow, and Allahabad."

"I had an idea that he might write to me in a quite
different style, unknown to the English. I knew the new
Nawab, whom I met at the time I was soliciting reinforcements
to raise the siege of Chandernagore. He had not then
taken up the idea of making himself Nawab. He appeared
to me a very intelligent man, and much inclined to do us
service, pitying us greatly for having to work with a man so
cowardly and undecided as Siraj-ud-daula."

"was well calculated to excite in his mind sentiments
favourable to us, but if it did, Mir Jafar let none of them
appear. The Revolution was too recent and the influence of
the English too great for him to risk the least correspondence
with us."

"such as became a general who, though an enemy, interested
himself in our fate out of humanity, knowing by his own
experience into what perils and fatigues we were going to
throw ourselves when we left the European Settlements."

"As the country people are now all become your enemies,
and orders are gone everywhere to intercept your passage,
and I myself have sent parties in quest of you, and orders
are gone to Ramnarain, the Naib of Patna, to seize you if
you pursue that road, you must be sensible if you fall into
their hands you cannot expect to find them a generous
enemy. If, therefore, you have any regard for the men
under your command, I would recommend you to treat with
us, from whom you may expect the most favourable terms in
my power to grant."[104]

"In fact it may be said that the sepoy is a singular
animal, especially until he has had time to acquire a
proper sense of discipline. As soon as he has received his
red jacket and his gun he thinks he is a different man. He
looks upon himself as a European, and having a very high
estimation of this qualification, he thinks he has the right to
despise all the country people, whom he treats as Kaffirs
and wretched negroes, though he is often just as black as they
are. In every place I have been I have remarked that the
inhabitants have less fear of the European soldier, who in
his disorderly behaviour sometimes shows an amount of
generosity which they would expect in vain from a sepoy."

"Lucknow, capital of the Subah[106] so called, is 160 miles
north of Allahabad, on the other side of the Ganges, and
about 44 miles from that river. The country is beautiful
and of great fertility, but what can one expect from the best
land without cultivation? It was particularly the fate of
this province and of a large portion of Oudh to have been
exhausted by the wars of Mansur Ali Khan.[107] That prince
at his death left the Treasury empty and a quantity of
debts. Suja-ud-daula, his successor, thought he could
satisfy his creditors, all of them officers of the army, by
giving them orders upon several of the large estates. This
method was too slow for these military gentlemen. In a
short time every officer had become the Farmer,[108] or rather the
Tyrant, of the villages abandoned to him. Forcible executions
quickly reimbursed him to an extent greater than his claim,
but the country suffered. The ill-used inhabitants left it,
and the land remained uncultivated. This might have
been repaired. The good order established by Suja-ud-daula
commenced to bring the inhabitants back when an
evil, against which human prudence was powerless, achieved
their total destruction. For two whole years clouds of
locusts traversed the country regularly with the Monsoon,[109]
and reduced the hopes of the cultivator to nothing. When
two days from Lucknow, we ourselves saw the ravages committed
by this insect. It was perfect weather; suddenly we
saw the sky overcast; a darkness like that of a total eclipse
spread itself abroad and lasted a good hour. In less than no
time we saw the trees under which we were camped stripped
of their leaves. The next day as we journeyed we saw that
the same devastation had been produced for a distance of ten
miles. The grass on the roads and every green thing in the
fields were eaten away down to the roots. This recurrent
plague had driven away the inhabitants, even those who had
survived the exactions of the military. Towns and villages
were abandoned; the small number of people who remained—I
am speaking without exaggeration—only served to
augment the horror of this solitude. We saw nothing but
spectres.
"The state of the people of Lucknow city, the residence
of the Nawab, was hardly better. The evil was perhaps less
evident owing to the variety of objects, but from what one
could see from time to time nature did not suffer less. The
environs of the palace were covered with poor sick people
lying in the middle of the roads, so that it was impossible
for the Nawab to go out without causing his elephant to
tread on the bodies of several of them, except when he had
the patience to wait and have them cleared out of the way—an
act which would not accord with Oriental ideas of
grandeur. In spite of this there were few accidents. The
animal used to guide its footsteps so as to show it was
more friendly to human beings than men themselves
were."

"I felt sure that, after the Revolution in Bengal, they
would be the only subject of conversation in the capital. The
Revolution had made much noise, but it was ascribed entirely
to the Seths and to Rai Durlabh Ram. Clive's name was
well known. He was, they said, a great captain whom the
Seths had brought from very far at a great expense, to
deliver Bengal from the tyranny of Siraj-ud-daula, as Salabat
Jang had engaged M. Bussy to keep the Marathas in
order. Many of the principal persons even asked me what
country he came from. Others, mixing up all Europeans
together, thought that I was a deputy from Clive. It was
useless for me to say we were enemies, that it was the
English who had done everything in Bengal, that it was
they who governed and not Jafar Ali Khan, who was only
Nawab in name. No one would believe me. In fact, how
could one persuade people who had never seen a race of
men different from their own, that a body of two or three
thousand Europeans at the most was able to dictate the law
in a country as large as Bengal?"