"At the breach to the south-west the enemy brought a raft, and seventy men embarked on it to cross the ditch, which was flanked by two field-pieces, one in each tower. The raft had almost gained the fausse-braye, when Captain Clive, observing that the gunners fired with bad aim, took the management of one of the field-pieces himself, and, in three or four discharges, flung them into such confusion, that they overset the raft, and tumbled into the ditch; where some of them were drowned, and the rest, intent only on their own preservation, swam back and left the raft behind.

"In these different attacks, the enemy continued the storm for an hour; when they relinquished all their attempts of annoyance at once, and employed themselves earnestly in carrying off their dead. Amongst these was the commander of their sepoys, who fell in the fausse-braye of the northern breach. He had distinguished himself with great bravery in the attack, and was so much beloved by his troops, that one of them crossed the ditch, and carried off his body, exposing himself, during the attempt, to the fire of forty muskets, from which he had the good fortune to escape. It seemed as if the enemy expected that the garrison would permit them to fulfil this duty to their friends; but, finding that they suffered severely in attempting it, they at last retreated and disappeared. Their loss, during the storm, was computed to be not less than 400 men killed and wounded; of which very few were Europeans; for most of the French troops were observed drawn up, and looking on at a distance. Of the defenders, only four Europeans were killed, and two sepoys wounded. Many of the garrison being disabled by sickness or wounds, the number which repulsed the storm was no more than eighty Europeans (officers included), and 120 sepoys; and these, besides serving five pieces of cannon, expended 12,000 musket cartridges during the attack.

"Two hours after, the enemy renewed their fire upon the fort, both with their cannon and with musketry from the houses. At two in the afternoon they demanded leave to bury their dead; which was granted, and a truce allowed until four. They then recommenced, and continued their fire smartly till two in the morning, when, on a sudden, it ceased totally; and, at daybreak, intelligence was brought that the whole army had abandoned the town with precipitation. On receiving this joyful news, the garrison immediately marched into the enemy's quarters, where they found four pieces of artillery, four mortars, and a large quantity of ammunition, which they brought in triumph into the fort. During the time that the garrison were shut up in the fort, forty-five Europeans and thirty sepoys were killed, and a greater number of both wounded; most of whom suffered by the enemy's musketry from the houses.

"Thus ended this siege, maintained fifty days, under every disadvantage of situation and force, by a handful of men, in their first campaign, with a spirit worthy of the most veteran troops: and conducted by their young commander with indefatigable activity, unshaken constancy, and undaunted courage: and, notwithstanding he had at this time neither read books, nor conversed with men capable of giving him much instruction in the military art, all the resources which he employed in the defence of Arcot, were such as are dictated by the best masters in the science of war."[43]

I have it in my power, from authority I cannot doubt, to add to the account of this celebrated siege an anecdote, singularly illustrative of the character of the native troops of India. When provisions became so scarce that there was a fear that famine might compel them to surrender, the sepoys proposed to Clive to limit them to the water[44] in which the rice was boiled. "It is," they said, "sufficient for our support: the Europeans require the grain."

This fact is as honourable to Clive, as to those under his command; for the conduct of the native troops of India will always be found to depend upon the character of the officers under whom they are employed. Flattered and elevated by the confidence reposed in them, they will almost rival Europeans in their efforts to merit such consideration; but when their character and feelings are not understood, and a secondary place is assigned them, or when they are treated as an inferior class of troops, they soon become, from sinking in their own estimation, what ignorant and unskilful leaders have too often, in justification of their own failure, described them. From the nature and constitution of this part of our army, it cannot be otherwise; and there are abundant examples to prove, that where knowledge and talent are united in the commander, no fear need be entertained of his success in stimulating the native part of his force to every effort, of which patient suffering, under privation and fatigue, or active and daring valour in front of the enemy, is capable.

Clive took full advantage of the impressions made by his successful defence of Arcot. Having increased his force by a detachment from Fort St. David of two hundred Europeans and seven hundred sepoys, he took the small fort of Timery[45]; and aided by a party of Mahrattas, sent by Morari-row, the chief of Goothy, he did not hesitate, by a forced march, to meet a party of three hundred Europeans, two thousand horse, and two thousand five hundred sepoys, with four field pieces, which had been sent from Pondicherry to aid Rajah Sahib.

After a well-contested action, the French were completely routed; and night only saved them from destruction. The Mahrattas, who had displayed courage in the action, were most eager in the pursuit, in which they took four hundred horses, and Rajah Sahib's military chest, containing 100,000 rupees.[46]

These successes turned the tide of the public opinion, in that part of the country where they occurred, in favour of the English. The killahdar (or governor) of Arnee proclaimed his allegiance to Mahommed Ali; and six hundred French sepoys, having brought their arms, were enlisted, and added by Clive to the strength of his small force.

Clive next proceeded to the attack of Conjeveram, of which the French had made a post. The commandant compelled two English officers, Revel and Glass, who were their prisoners, to write, that if the place was attacked they should be exposed on the wall. They, however, added to the letter, that they made this communication by desire of the enemy, but trusted no consideration for them would for one instant stop operations. When battering cannon arrived, a breach was made; but the French garrison, dreading the just resentment which their conduct[47] had excited, did not await a storm, but abandoning the pagoda at night, left behind the two prisoners they had threatened to expose.

Clive, after destroying the defences of Conjeveram, and strengthening the garrison of Arcot, proceeded himself to Fort St. David, to report the details of his success, and to suggest further operations.

These successes had, at first, a favourable impression upon the affairs of Mahommed Ali, who still remained at Trichinopoly, where he was in daily expectation of being joined by a large force from Mysore, to the Regent of which country he had made great promises. He had been joined by a body of Mahrattas sent by Morari-row; but the comparatively small force of the English led their cautious commander, Captain Gingen, to limit himself to the defensive.

This excited a spirit of discontent in the garrison, and more in the Mahrattas, who, eager for action, upbraided the English for their want of enterprise, telling them[48], "they were not the same kind of men whom they had seen fight so gallantly at Arcot!"

In the beginning of the ensuing year (January, 1752), Rajah Sahib re-assembled a force, which amounted to four hundred Europeans, two thousand sepoys, and two thousand five hundred horse, with a train of artillery, and began to lay waste the territories of Mahommed Ali, plundering those of the English at Poonamalee, and burning their newly-erected houses at St. Thomas's Mount.

To arrest the progress of this party, a force of three hundred and eighty Europeans, one thousand three hundred sepoys, and six field pieces, was placed under Clive. He immediately[49] marched towards the enemy, who, notwithstanding their superiority in numbers, did not venture to meet him, but abandoned different strong positions on his approach; till he came so unexpectedly upon them at the village of Coverspak, that the leading men of his party received a discharge from their artillery, posted in a grove, before he was aware of their vicinity. To remedy the temporary confusion this created, Clive took advantage of a water-course to afford his infantry shelter, while he secured his baggage and prepared for an attack. His first efforts were unsuccessful, from the superiority of the enemy's artillery; and he soon saw that he must either capture it or retreat. The mango grove, in which it was placed, was defended in front by a steep bank and ditch; but the report of those he sent to reconnoitre the rear of their position, satisfied him it was open and not guarded. He instantly detached six hundred of his best men to make a detour, and attack the enemy in rear, while the main body pressed them in front. He had proceeded some distance with this detachment, in order to ensure its proper direction, when his temporary absence had nearly caused the defeat of the troops he left engaged in the water-course. These men, accustomed to look to him alone for victory, and discouraged by so large a party being detached, had given way; and on his return, it was not without great difficulty he rallied them, and made them recommence a firing, which was continued, and the enemy amused, till a volley from the party who had been sent to the rear announced their arrival and success at the same moment. For having reconnoitred the position by means of an officer who, speaking French, was mistaken for a friend, they had approached so close before they were discovered, that the enemy were thrown into inextricable confusion. Nine pieces of cannon were taken, and all fled, except a party of sixty Europeans, who surrendered:—fifty Frenchmen and three hundred sepoys were found dead upon the field. The loss of the English detachment was also severe. Forty Europeans and thirty sepoys were killed, and a much greater number were wounded:—but the effect produced by the skill and gallantry of Clive was decisive. The French force in this part of the Carnatic was destroyed, and the reputation of the British arms was restored, or rather founded, in India:—for before his brilliant successes no event had occurred which could lead the natives to believe that the English, as soldiers, were equal to the French.[50]

Clive was recalled to Madras to take charge of a considerable detachment destined to reinforce the garrison of Trichinopoly; but before he marched, Major Lawrence returned from England, and assumed the command. The young[51] and successful soldier placed himself under the veteran, whom he never ceased to regard with attachment and respect. Of the sentiments which Lawrence entertained towards him, we have the strongest proof in his narrative. When expressing his opinion of Clive's operations in the Carnatic, he observes, "The French bringing almost their whole force into the field with Chunda Sahib, and leaving Arcot but poorly defended, a scheme was laid to reduce part of that country to the Nabob's obedience. Captain Clive commanded the party. The expedition was attended with uncommon success, which some people were pleased to term fortunate and lucky; but in my opinion, from the knowledge I have of the gentleman, he deserved and might expect, from his conduct, every thing 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 an army like an experienced officer and a brave soldier, with a prudence that certainly warranted success. This young man's early genius surprised and engaged my attention, as well before as at the siege of Devecottah, where he behaved in courage and judgment much beyond what could be expected from his years; and his success afterwards confirmed what I said to many people concerning him."[52]

The object of this memoir neither admits nor requires a detail of the military operations or political transactions of which Trichinopoly and its vicinity now became the theatre. The chief contest was between the British and French; whose forces, though professedly only subsidiary to the native princes, were in fact principals, and fought for their existence in this part of India. It has been already stated, that Captain Gingen almost entirely confined himself within the walls of the fort, while the Nabob and his allies were under the protection of its guns. M. Law, with a superior body of Europeans, and Chunda Sahib were not only in possession of the strong pagoda of Seringham, and of the whole island betwixt the Caveri and Coleroon, but had advanced their batteries and posts to the south of the Caveri, to which they were now sufficiently bold to remove their encampments.

The arrival, however, of Major Lawrence with his reinforcement, his established fame, and the rising reputation of Clive, infused new life into the English and their allies. A spirited and successful affair, which was the consequence of an attempt made by the French to intercept the entrance of this party into the fort, gave earnest of that change in operations which was now to be expected, and M. Law, against the remonstrances of Chunda Sahib, and contrary to the instructions of Dupleix, on seeing Lawrence making preparations for a general attack of his position to the south of the Caveri, withdrew his troops to the island of Seringham, placing himself from that moment on the defensive. Every advantage of the retrograde motion of the French was taken by Major Lawrence.

This officer, equally distinguished for his judgment and spirit, had none of that petty jealousy which often leads men in superior stations to deny themselves and their country the full benefit of the extraordinary talents which may happen to belong to those under their command. Major Lawrence, perfectly appreciating the character of Clive, consulted him on all occasions. By his advice he divided his small force, at a hazard which a knowledge of the mind, or rather minds, of those opposed to him, could alone have justified. While half of his troops remained at Trichinopoly, the other half was placed in a position between Seringham and Pondicherry, in order to interrupt that intercourse on which the French depended for their support. The successful result of these operations was the capture and death of Chunda Sahib[53], and the surrender of the French troops. Whatever may have been the claim of Chunda Sahib to the station he assumed, and in which he was supported by his European allies, his personal character is entitled to more respect than that of any of the native actors who appeared on the scene during this short but eventful period. He was active, brave, and generous; and whenever he had the sole direction of affairs, evinced spirit and judgment. His fate was unhappy. When M. Law, reduced to distress in the pagoda of Seringham, told him he could no longer afford him protection, Chunda Sahib listened to a deceitful offer of Monackjee, the general of the Tanjore forces, who, instead of that kindness with which he had sworn to treat him, placed him in confinement, and hastened to inform those with whom he was co-operating (the English, the Nabob Mahommed Ali, the Mysorians, and the Mahrattas,) of the noble prize he had decoyed into his toils; but Monackjee, instead of that applause and profit he anticipated from his treachery, soon found, that while all resolved he should not retain his prisoner, each party was desirous of having him under their own charge. On seeing that they were on the point of quarrelling with his prince, and amongst each other, for the possession of Chunda Sahib's person, he determined, with a cruelty equal to his perfidy, to put that chief to death. The purpose was no sooner formed than executed; and the head of Chunda Sahib was sent to his rival and enemy, Mahommed Ali, who exhibited it to his army and followers, under circumstances meant to throw obloquy upon the deceased, but which, however sanctioned by usage, have, even in India, more commonly the effect of awakening personal resentment, and bringing shame upon those who indulge in such barbarous and unmanly triumphs over the remains of gallant though unfortunate enemies.

The surrender of the French and the death of Chunda Sahib, instead of terminating hostilities, and fixing Mahommed Ali in the sovereignty of the Carnatic, gave rise to disputes between that prince and his allies, which seemed to place peace at a greater distance than ever. Reduced to extremity, Mahommed Ali purchased the aid of Nundirauze, the regent of Mysore, by compliance with his exorbitant demands. The most important was the cession of Trichinopoly, to which the nabob was formally pledged by a written engagement, the performance of which was now demanded, but compliance evaded on a pretext that the period was not arrived when the nabob could give it up with safety, as many of the strongholds in the Carnatic were still in the hands of the enemy. The Mahratta leader, Morari-row, was called in as umpire. That gallant but wily chief, professing to be with both parties, had no desire but to possess[54] himself of the place in dispute. He strongly advised the Mysorian to insist on the fulfilling of the treaty, and became publicly the advocate for its performance, while, in private with Mahommed Ali, he ridiculed the idea of any one entertaining the expectation, that he ever should be so absurd as to give up (when he could keep it) a fortress which was now conveniently described[55] as the property of the Emperor of Delhi, and one which it would be treason in his delegate to surrender. But I quit this scene of evasion, intrigue, and perfidy, to describe the part which Clive took in the operations which terminated this short campaign in a manner so honourable to the British arms. (A. D. 1752.)

Major Lawrence, who, as he himself has observed, early discerned the extraordinary qualities of Clive, fostered them with a care which reflects the highest honour on his character. He attended on all occasions to the suggestions of the young soldier, and as cheerfully granted, as the other in every case deserved, the post of danger. In the actions which took place before they entered Trichinopoly, Clive was eminently distinguished by having occupied and maintained, under a most severe fire, a small building in front of the French battalion, which, by his advance and that of Captain Dalton with the grenadiers and some artillery, was compelled to retreat with the confederate force, from the position he had so judiciously seized.

But it was in the execution of the plan already noticed, of interrupting the intercourse between Seringham and Pondicherry, that Clive found the opportunity of exhibiting those powers of combination, self-possession, and intrepidity that were so conspicuous in his character. He suggested, as has been before stated, this bold operation to Major Lawrence, with whom he lived on terms of the strictest intimacy; and the latter, in adopting a plan which a contemporary historian describes "as risking the whole to gain the whole," trusted entirely for its success to the enterprise and judgment of his young friend: but Clive was the junior captain of his force, and it was not easy to appoint him to such an important command over the heads of so many officers, some of whom had acquired a just reputation. The difficulty Major Lawrence apprehended on this head was, however, soon put an end to by the open declaration of the allies, that they would not detach the portions of their troops necessary to form this corps under any other but him who had defended Arcot.

The force with which Clive marched[56] from Trichinopoly consisted of four hundred Europeans, seven hundred sepoys, three thousand Mahratta, and one thousand Tanjore horse, with eight pieces of artillery, two of which were battering guns. He passed the Coleroon before daylight, and occupied a pagoda called Samiaveram, seven miles north of that river, and on the high road betwixt Seringham and Utatore, a post of the French on their line of communication with Pondicherry. His first care was to strengthen this position, and to plant cannon so as to command the road both to the north and south.

Dupleix, on learning the situation of affairs at Trichinopoly, had detached a party of seven hundred men under Monsieur D'Autueil, who had orders to proceed to Seringham and take the command from M. Law, with whose conduct the French governor was much dissatisfied. The utmost importance was attached to intercepting this body of men; and Clive, on learning their arrival at Utatore, and that it was D'Autueil's intention to attempt the junction by a circuitous route, marched to oppose him, leaving a small part of his force to guard his post at Semiaveram; but on finding that D'Autueil, alarmed at his approach, had hastened back to Utatore, he lost no time in returning. M. Law, who heard of his leaving his post, but not of his return, detached[57], as soon as it was dark, a corps of eighty Europeans, and seven hundred sepoys, to attack the few troops he imagined to be remaining at Samiaveram. Of these men forty were English deserters. The extraordinary events which followed cannot be better related than in the words of the historian[58] to whom we have so often referred.

"The party arrived near the camp at midnight, when one of their spies informed the commanding officer, that the troops which had marched against M. D'Autueil had returned; but he, imputing the information either to cowardice or treachery, gave no credit to the spy, and proceeded; they were challenged by the advanced guard of English sepoys, on which the officer of the deserters, an Irishman, stept out and told them, that he was sent by Major Lawrence to reinforce Captain Clive: and the rest of the deserters, speaking English likewise, confirmed the assertion, and persuaded the sepoys so fully, that they omitted the usual precaution of asking the counter-word, which would certainly have discovered the stratagem, and sent one of their body to conduct the enemy to the head-quarters. They continued their march through a part of the Mahratta camp, without giving or receiving any disturbance, until they came to the lesser pagoda. Here they were challenged by the sentinels, and by others posted in a neighbouring choultry to the north of it, in which Captain Clive lay asleep. They returned the challenge by a volley into each place, and immediately entered the pagoda, putting all they met to the sword. Captain Clive, starting out of his sleep, and not conceiving it possible that the enemy could have advanced into the centre of his camp, imputed the firing to his own sepoys alarmed by some attack at the outskirts; he, however, ran to the upper pagoda, where the greatest part of his Europeans were quartered, who, having likewise taken the alarm, were under arms; and he immediately returned with two hundred of them to the choultry. Here he now discovered a large body of sepoys drawn up, facing the south, and firing at random. Their position, which looked to the enemy's encampment, joined to their confusion, confirmed him in his conjecture, that they were his own troops who had taken some unnecessary alarm. In this supposition, he drew up his Europeans within twenty yards of their rear, and then, going alone amongst them, ordered them to cease, upbraiding some with the panic he supposed them to have taken, and even striking others: at length, one of the sepoys, who understood a little of the French language, discovering that he was an Englishman, attacked and wounded him in two places with his sword; but, finding himself overpowered, ran away to the lower pagoda. Captain Clive, exasperated at this insolence from a man whom he imagined to be in his own service, followed him to the gate, where, to his great surprise, he was accosted by six Frenchmen. His usual presence of mind did not fail him on this critical occasion, but, suggesting to him all that had happened, he told the Frenchmen with great composure, that he was come to offer them terms, and if they would look out they would perceive the pagoda surrounded with his whole army, who were determined to give no quarter if any resistance were made. The firmness with which these words were delivered made such an impression, that three of the Frenchmen ran into the pagoda to carry this intelligence, whilst the other three surrendered their arms to Captain Clive, and followed him towards the choultry, whither he hastened, intending to order the Europeans to attack the body of sepoys, whom he now first knew to be his enemies; but these had already discovered the danger of their situation, and had marched out of the reach of the Europeans, who, imagining that they did this in obedience to Captain Clive's orders, made no motion to interrupt or attack them. Soon after, eight Frenchmen, who had been sent from the pagoda to reconnoitre, fell in with the English troops and were made prisoners; and these, with the other three whom Captain Clive had taken, were delivered to the charge of a serjeant's party, who, not knowing, in the time of darkness and confusion, that the enemy were in possession of the lower pagoda, carried them thither, and, on delivering them to the guard, found out their error; but such was also the confusion of the French in the pagoda, that they suffered the serjeant and his party to return unmolested. The rest of the English troops had now joined the others, and Captain Clive, imagining that the enemy would never have attempted so desperate an enterprise without supporting it with their whole army, deemed it absolutely necessary to storm the pagoda, before the troops who were in it could receive any assistance. One of the two folding-doors of the gateway had for some time been taken down to be repaired, and the other was strongly stapled down, so that the remaining part of the entrance would admit only two men abreast. The English soldiers made the attack, and continued it for some time with great resolution; but the deserters within fought desperately, and killed an officer and fifteen men, on which the attack was ordered to cease till daybreak; and, in the mean time, such a disposition was made as might prevent those in the pagoda from escaping, and at the same time oppose any other body which might come to their relief. At daybreak the commanding officer of the French, seeing the danger of his situation, made a sally at the head of his men, who received so heavy a fire, that he himself, with twelve others who first came out of the gateway, were killed by the volley; on which the rest ran back to the pagoda. Captain Clive then advanced into the porch of the gate, to parley with the enemy; and, being weak with the loss of blood and fatigue, stood with his back to the wall of the porch, and leaned, stooping forward, on the shoulders of two serjeants. The officer of the English deserters presented himself with great insolence, and, telling Captain Clive, with abusive language, that he would shoot him, fired his musket. The ball missed him, but went through the bodies of both the serjeants on whom he was leaning, and they both fell mortally[59] wounded. The Frenchmen had hitherto defended the pagoda, in compliance with the English deserters; but, thinking it necessary to disavow such an outrage, which might exclude them from any pretensions to quarter, their officer immediately surrendered. By this time, the body of the enemy's sepoys had passed out of the camp, with as little interruption as they had entered it: but orders having been sent to the Mahrattas to pursue them, Innis-Khan, with all his men, mounted at daybreak, and came up with them in the open plain, before they gained the bank of the Coleroon. The sepoys no sooner perceived them, than they flung away their arms, and attempted to save themselves by dispersing; but the Mahrattas, who never figure so much as in these cruel exploits, exerted themselves with such activity, that, according to their own report, not a single man of seven hundred escaped alive: it is certain that none ever appeared to contradict this assertion. Besides the escapes already mentioned, Captain Clive had another which was not discovered until the hurry of the day was over, when it was found that the volley, which the enemy fired into the choultry where he was sleeping, had shattered a box that lay under his feet, and killed a servant who lay close to him."

The mistakes of the night at Samiaveram were of a character more likely to be created by the imagination of a dramatic poet, to give incident and spirit to the sudden change of scene and action, than to take place in real military operations; but no occurrence of his life called forth in a more remarkable degree that quickness of perception and that calm self-possession for which Clive was distinguished.

Major Lawrence, not wishing to hazard again the important post of Samiaveram, sent a party of four hundred sepoys, five hundred Mahratta horse, and four field-pieces, under Captain Dalton, to watch the movements of Monsieur d'Autueil, who still remained at Utatore. The French outposts were driven back in the dusk of the evening; and the English, having been divided into two bodies, moved on the flanks of the line with the hopes of deceiving them into a belief that it was the whole of Clive's force which had come to assail them. The stratagem succeeded. D'Autueil not only drew his troops within the walls of the village, but evacuated it next morning, and retreated to Volcondah, leaving to Captain Dalton's corps the ammunition and supplies he had brought for the troops at Seringham. M. Law, who observed from the top of the pagoda at Seringham the movement of Captain Dalton's detachment, mistook it for that of Clive, and marched upon Samiaveram; but when he found the whole body of the English stationed there drawn up to receive him, he fell back on his position.

The detachment from Trichinopoly had received orders to return, but a sudden swelling of the Coleroon rendered that impracticable. Clive determined to take advantage of the state of the river to attack the French post of Pitchandah, on its northern bank, which M. Law could not now succour. Captain Dalton, being informed of his resolution, and not wishing to interfere with his command, immediately placed his corps under Clive's orders, and requested to be employed as a volunteer![60] A higher testimony to acknowledged superiority of character cannot be adduced than this temporary resignation of the claims of senior rank by a gallant and able officer, and that at the very moment when he was flushed with the success of the service on which he had been detached.

The camp of Chunda Sahib, near Seringham, was on the south bank of the Coleroon, opposite to Pitchandah. Clive, in order to annoy the enemy and to cover his operations against that place, converted into a six-gun battery a high mound on the north bank of the river, which had been raised to prevent its encroachment on the low land.[61] This mound completely commanded the enemy's camp[62], and was at the same time protected from the guns at Pitchandah. The disorder created by the opening of this battery was great; men, women, children, elephants, camels, horses, and bullocks were instantly seen in disordered flight from this unexpected danger, hastening to the banks of the river, which they were, however, forced to quit by the guns of Trichinopoly, and at last found shelter by forming an encampment out of reach of the English cannon, and at some distance from the pagoda of Seringham.

This operation upon the most defenceless part of the enemy's force probably produced more effect upon the minds of the allies of the French, than any of the more substantial successes of the war. The native armies of India are kept together by very loose ties: the strongest of these are the expectations which princes can hold out, to the chiefs that serve them, of future pay and reward—as these diminish or increase, their attachment ebbs or flows; but they seldom despair of a cause, till reverses so materially affect the safety of their numerous armed and unarmed followers, that they can no longer keep them together. The feelings of the latter have an extraordinary influence upon success; for as the chief receives little, if any, pay from the prince, he must support himself by loans from bankers and merchants residing in his camp, while his soldiers owe the food by which they are supported to the credit given them by the dealers in the bazaar. This reciprocal expectation and confidence is seldom shaken by any danger that is not close at hand. The bulk of the soldiers and camp followers are amused or deceived by false or exaggerated reports; but the incontrovertible proof which an attack like that of Clive gave, of their prince and his allies not being able to protect them, spread alarm through all ranks; and that alarm was soon rendered irremediable by the fall of Pitchandah.

The death of Chunda Sahib, the surrender of the French troops, and the dissensions to which these events gave rise between Mahommed Ali and his allies have already been recorded. Dupleix, who never desponded, seeing in these dissensions the means of retrieving the interests of his nation, fomented them by every means in his power; and his intrigues to gain the Mysorians and the Mahrattas were powerfully aided by his lady, who, born in India, and understanding not only the languages but the character of the natives, is stated to have been on this occasion, as on various others, of the greatest use to her ambitious husband.

The Regent of Mysore was promised Trichinopoly, and the Mahrattas plunder and money. Both had secretly entered into engagements, which they were encouraged to avow by the complete failure of an expedition[63] which the governor and committee of Fort St. David sent to attack Gingee, contrary to the expressed opinion of Major Lawrence. Fortunately, however, the presumption of Dupleix gave that able officer an opportunity of correcting the bad impression which had been thus made, by completely defeating a French force[64] (1752), under Monsieur Kirjean, a nephew of the governor, who had been compelled against his better judgment, by the orders of his too ardent uncle, to hazard this engagement. The Mahrattas, on the occurrence of this success, declared their continued adherence to the cause of Mahommed Ali, and were employed with Major Lawrence in reducing the country near Pondicherry. To aid this operation, a detachment was required to attack the forts of Chingliput and Covelong; but there were no troops to form it, except two hundred European recruits just landed at Madras, who are represented as being the very refuse of the jails of London, and five hundred newly raised sepoys. These men had neither character nor discipline, and seemed so little calculated to take forts, that no officer could be expected to risk his reputation at their head:—but Clive, though in a state of very impaired health,—the consequence of his former fatigues,—volunteered to accept this unpromising command, and marched with his small and ill-composed detachment, and four twenty-four pounders, to attack Covelong[65], a square fort, which, though it had no ditch, mounted thirty pieces of cannon, and was defended by fifty Europeans and three hundred sepoys.

A party having been sent in advance under Lieutenant Cooper, to take up a position in a garden six hundred yards from the fort, were attacked by the enemy: they stood for a short time, but, on Lieutenant Cooper being shot, were so dismayed that they fled with precipitation, and were with difficulty prevented by Clive from continuing their flight to Madras. The garden was retaken, a battery constructed, and a post formed on its left, near a large rock. The fire of the enemy, however, so disconcerted Clive's party, that they seemed prepared to fly at every alarm[66]: a shot which struck the rock, and with its splinters killed and wounded fourteen, so frightened the whole, that it was some time before they would again venture to expose themselves; and one of the advanced sentries was found, several hours afterwards, concealed in the bottom of a well!

Clive, wisely judging that shame would operate more powerfully than severity in reclaiming his men from such cowardice, exposed himself to the hottest of the enemy's fire, and his example brought them in a very few days to tolerable firmness; while their confidence in themselves and their leader was increased by the surrender of the fort, and still more by subsequent events.

The morning after Covelong was taken, Ensign Joseph Smith (a name destined to fill a large space in the future wars of Coromandel) discovered a large body of men advancing, which he justly considered to be a detachment from Chingliput to relieve Covelong. He communicated what he had seen to Clive, who, taking every precaution to prevent this corps from learning that the fort had fallen, laid an ambuscade on their route, and the concealed troops (so close and so well directed was their fire) killed one hundred men at the first volley:—many threw down their arms and fled, while the commanding officer of the corps, twenty-five Europeans, and two hundred and fifty sepoys, with two pieces of cannon, were taken.

The news of this disaster soon reached Chingliput[67] (1752). Clive was there almost as soon, and, knowing well the influence of the impression his success had made, he immediately advanced his battery from a distance of five hundred yards, where it was first constructed, to within two hundred of the outer wall, which he soon breached as well as the inner: but there was still the ditch to be filled; for this fort, strong in some parts by the impracticability[68] of approach, had been fortified with great care in others; and Clive, now confident in his men, determined on an assault. The French commandant, observing his preparations, offered to capitulate on the garrison being permitted to retire with the honours of war; terms which Clive very readily granted, as the place, if obstinately defended, still possessed means of formidable resistance.

It would be difficult to find an example, in any regular army, of one so young and of such a subordinate rank as Clive, having crowded into the short space of two years such a series of successful enterprises. He was not more than twenty-seven years of age, and had only within the last year been promoted to the rank of Captain. After being distinguished on several occasions by the most resolute valour, he had displayed at Arcot, and during the operations which followed that memorable siege, all the superior qualities of a military leader. In the wisdom with which he planned, and the ability and gallantry with which he executed, those operations which so materially contributed to the defeat and capture of the French at Seringham, he evinced a calmness of courage, a clearness of judgment, and a decision of spirit, which gave confidence to his own force, and struck terror into that of the enemy: and in his last expedition against Covelong and Chingliput he showed, that where real military talent exists in the leader, there is no description of troops with which he may not command success: he can frame the machine at the moment to his purpose, while the ordinary man of routine can only employ it when prepared to his hands. Some writers, seemingly desirous of detracting from the character which Clive thus early established, would insinuate that no marked superiority of talent was exhibited in these events, and have grounded their opinion on the comparative smallness of the numbers of regular troops, and the composition of the other parts of the forces engaged in these contests; but, with those who are qualified, by experience, to decide on this subject, and who can appreciate the difficulties these very circumstances created, Clive's reputation will rise in proportion to the smallness and unconnected nature of those means with which, at this early stage of his life, he accomplished objects so important to his country. It is not in the use of ordinary means that genius appears to most advantage: it has its amplest range, and its noblest triumph, where it labours amidst new and untried objects, and converts them to purposes for which they had always before been judged incompetent. And no commander of modern times saw more clearly, seized more powerfully, or used more successfully, than Clive, the various and often discordant materials placed within his reach. Even at this early period of his career, he diffused his own spirit around him. The troops under his direction, however dispirited before, believed that they were destined to victory and glory: and that victory and glory did invariably attend them, was owing to his genius alone.