_A BATTLE IN THE DARK_
With some difficulty I persuaded my zealous friend to change his
intention of ascribing to me the capture of Budge-Budge. It was well I
did so, for Mr. Clive, when he heard the particulars of the affair,
chose to resent the breach of discipline on the part of the sailors
more than he approved of their reckless enterprise. So that old Muzzy,
to his surprise, instead of being rewarded for his achievement, found
himself lucky to get off with nothing worse than a reprimand for his
drunkenness and disobedience to orders.
* * * * *
The next day we marched upon Calcutta.
The ships went before us to clear the way, but they met with no
resistance, all the Indian forces retiring before our advance. In the
affair before Budge-Budge it seems that one of the shots from the guns
had passed close to the turban of Monichund, and this had so terrified
him that he never halted in his retreat till he came to Moorshedabad,
all the way communicating his own fears to the garrisons he passed.
When we entered the town of Calcutta, therefore, we saw the English
colours already flying again from the fort, Admiral Watson having sent
a party ashore to take possession.
I am sorry to say that some bad blood arose between the gallant
Admiral and Mr. Clive over this incident. In fact there had been
already several jealousies between the two services, the Admiral and
his officers affecting to regard the Company's forces as on an
inferior footing to themselves. This feeling was heightened by the
fact that Mr. Watson's rank in the navy was higher than that of
Colonel Clive in the army, which gave him the precedence, though
everybody knew that the real leader and director of the campaign was
the Colonel.
I was with Mr. Clive when he came up to the entrance to the fort, and
can still see the stern look on his face when the sentinel stationed
there by Captain Coote refused him admission.
"Do you know who I am, fellow?" he cried. "I bid you let me pass this
instant, or I will have you court-martialled as sure as my name is
Robert Clive!"
The sentinel drew back, and we passed in, but were immediately met in
the courtyard by Mr. Coote himself.
"What is the meaning of this performance, sir?" the Colonel asked him
sternly. "Are you aware that I hold his Majesty's commission as
lieutenant-colonel, and that you and all your men are therefore under
my commands?"
"I am very sorry sir," replied the other, beginning to blench a
little, "but I was put into possession of this place by Admiral
Watson, who has given me his commission as governor, and bid me hold
it on his behalf till the arrival of Mr. Drake."
"Then, Captain Coote," retorted Mr. Clive, turning pale, "I order you
to give up this fort to me, as your superior officer on land, failing
which I shall order you to be arrested."
The Captain gave way at this threat, but contrived to despatch a
message to Mr. Watson of what had occurred. The Admiral, whose spirit
was as high as Mr. Clive's, at once sent on shore to say that unless
Mr. Clive instantly quitted the fort, leaving Captain Coote in
possession, he should open fire on it from the _Kent_.
In the end, however, a compromise was effected, by virtue of which the
Admiral was to hold the fort for the remainder of that day, in
compliment to his services in having taken it, but at the end of that
period he was to deliver it up to Mr. Clive as the military
representative of the Company.
Such were some of the difficulties with which this distinguished man
had to contend. He would sometimes say to me, in his moments of
confidence--
"I declare to you, Ford, that if I had known how I was to be vexed
and thwarted by those whose duty it is to assist me, I would never
have undertaken this command. After ruining their own affairs these
Bengal gentlemen criticise and hamper every step I take to restore
them; and Admiral Watson is more zealous in maintaining what he
considers the honours due to his profession, than he is in beating the
Moors."
But in spite of this occasional bitterness, the Colonel entertained a
great respect for Mr. Watson's courage and abilities as a seaman, more
especially after the celebrated affair of Chander Nugger. Whilst Mr.
Clive, with the other members of the committee, was engaged in
settling the affairs of Calcutta, some spies came in with the news
that the town of Hooghley lay very open to attack, the garrison being
greatly dismayed and ready to give up the place on very slight
provocation. Accordingly the Admiral sailed up the river against it
with his fleet, and some troops under Major Kilpatrick and Captain
Coote, attacking it on the land side, it was taken with very little
loss on our side, and destroyed. But as I was not present on this
occasion, so I shall say little about it, except to remark that it
served to yet further impress the Indians with a sense of our power,
and put Surajah Dowlah on marching from Moorshedabad to crush us with
all his force.
The state in which we found Calcutta was indeed pitiable. The native
quarter, especially that inhabited by the meaner sort of people, was
not much injured, but all the English mansions and factories lay in
ruins. The unfortunate servants of the Company, although thus restored
to their former home, found themselves without shelter or money, the
traffic having, of course, entirely ceased. It was fortunate for me
that I had been able to bring away the jewels which Surajah Dowlah had
given me in his fits of maudlin friendship, for these fetched a good
price among the Gentoo merchants, and procured me as much money as I
had occasion for. But with most of the others, from Mr. Drake
downwards, it was different; and if the plunder of Hooghley had not
brought in about a lac and a half of rupees, about this time, into the
Company's coffers, I scarce know what they would have done.
News arrived from Aleppo, shortly after these transactions, that war
had again broken out in Europe between us and the French. This raised
the prospect of a fresh peril for us, it being feared that the French
in Chander Nugger would join forces with the Nabob. So seriously did
Colonel Clive regard this outlook, that he consented to send proposals
for an accommodation to Surajah, who was now in full march to the
southward. To these proposals the Nabob pretended to return a
favourable answer, nevertheless he continued advancing, and in order
to be prepared against him Mr. Clive fortified an entrenched camp just
outside the Morattoe ditch, to the northward, by which the Moors
would have to pass before they could attack the town.
Things were in this position when one morning about the beginning of
February, rising at daybreak, and strolling outside the camp, I saw
the whole horizon to the northward lit with the flames of burning
villages. I hastened to rouse Mr. Clive, and he came out and stood
beside me, watching, while from a cloud of dust along the road the van
of the approaching army emerged, one blaze of gorgeous uniforms and
tossing spears, marching towards the Morattoe ditch.
For some time we stood in silence, as troop after troop came on,
crowding along the high road, and casting fierce looks towards our
encampment as they passed. A frown gathered on the Colonel's brow, and
he began to think aloud, as was his custom sometimes, when we were
alone.
"Shall I attack them now? I might cut off their vanguard, and again I
might be caught between two fires. The rest of the army cannot be far
behind--better wait and ascertain their numbers. Besides, it is too
soon to say whether or no the Nabob means to play me false. An attack
now would hazard everything; I am bound to wait and give them time to
show their true inclinations."
He raised his head, and looked at me.
"Go round the town, Ford, rouse the outposts everywhere, and bid them
stand on the defensive. If the Moors attempt to cross the ditch and
enter the town, they are to beat them back, and send me word, but not
to follow them. Then return to me."
I hastened away to execute these orders, which were duly carried out.
In one or two places the Moors attempted incursions, but were speedily
checked. This contented them for that day. On the following morning
the main army, accompanied by Surajah Dowlah in person, debouched on
the plains, and proceeded to spread itself round the threatened town.
In the afternoon Mr. Clive summoned me to him. I found him in the tent
with Mr. Scrafton, and he held a letter in his hand.
"The Nabob has sent to me," he said, "desiring me to appoint some
persons to treat with him of the peace, and I have chosen Mr. Scrafton
and you as my deputies. What do you say, Ford? Are you ready to trust
your head in the tiger's jaws again, after your late adventures?"
"If you think fit to send me, sir, I am ready at all times to obey any
orders I may receive from Colonel Clive."
He smiled, well pleased.
"Well said, my lad. I knew you were something better than a purser,
and as soon as this business is over I will see to it that you get a
commission in the Company's forces, if that will serve your turn."
I thanked him, and Mr. Scrafton and I at once set out for Surajah's
quarters, which we were informed were at a place called Nabob-gunge.
But on arriving there we found that the treacherous Moor had pursued
his march towards the town and when we at last overtook him, late in
the evening, we found him with his headquarters established in a house
belonging to the Gentoo merchant Omichund, which house lay actually
within the Morattoe ditch, and was therefore included in the
territories of Calcutta.
We were here received by Roy Dullub, the Dewan, who instantly
recognised me, and manifested some alarm at my thus appearing in the
character of Colonel Clive's emissary. He glanced over us both with an
air of suspicion, and desired to know whether we had pistols concealed
in our dress.
Mr. Scrafton laughed in his face.
"We are not assassins," he said severely. "We do not deal with our
enemies in that way. If our employer, Mr. Clive, desires to kill the
Nabob, rest assured he will come in broad daylight, at the head of his
army, and do it that way."
Roy Dullub gave way after this rebuke, and led us into the presence of
his master. The Nabob was seated in full durbar, with all his officers
round him and the evil Lal Moon crouched like a snake beside his ear.
All the way round the walls of the apartment was placed a row of huge
guards, men of formidable size and ferocious countenances, who, to
appear still more dreadful, had their dresses stuffed out and their
turbans of twice the common size. Throughout the audience they kept
their eyes fixed on us with a most bloodthirsty expression, as though
expecting the signal to fall upon and slay us.
Surajah Dowlah was little changed from when I had last seen him. His
features still preserved that aspect of ruined handsomeness and marred
and minished glory, which is ascribed to the fallen archangel by our
great poet Milton--whom I, for one, will never stoop to compare with
your writer of lascivious stage-plays and sonnets, after whom all the
world is now running frantic. Roy Dullub handed the paper which we had
brought containing our proposals to the Nabob, who read it over before
he condescended to glance at us.
No sooner did he see me, however, than his face changed. He turned his
head, and whispered something to his favourite, pointing to me at the
same time. Then he addressed us, with smooth civility, pretending to
ignore our previous acquaintance.
"I will desire my ministers to consider your proposals," he said. "The
Dewan shall confer with you, and let you know my pleasure."
"That is not enough for us," replied Mr. Scrafton. He naturally took
it on himself to speak, as my elder and superior. "Your Highness has
committed a breach of good faith in crossing the English boundary
while negotiations are in progress."
"You need have no fear about that," the Nabob responded. "My
intentions towards the English are friendly. I come among you simply
as a guest. Tell Sabat Jung that he may lay down his sword and confide
in my goodwill."
To this Mr. Scrafton replied by a fresh remonstrance, but he soon saw
that nothing was to be got from Surajah, whose answers were evidently
being inspired by his secret adviser, Lal Moon. At length the Nabob
dismissed us, and we retired from the durbar.
As we were passing out we saw, standing in the doorway, the Gentoo
Omichund, whose house we were in. This man, well known in Bengal,
possessed large interests in Calcutta, as well as in other parts of
the Nabob's territories. For this reason he had long played a double
game between the Moors and English, seeking to keep in with both
sides. Now, as we came past, he fixed a significant look upon us, and
whispered in English in my ear--
"Take care of yourself!" Then, as I stood still for an instant he
added in the same sly tone, "Does your commander know that the Nabob's
cannon are not yet come up?"
Before I could answer he slipped away in the crowd. I followed on
after Mr. Scrafton, and whispered to him what I had heard, as we were
on our way to the Dewan's tent.
"It is my opinion," I added, "that we are to be detained as prisoners.
The Nabob is merely amusing Mr. Clive till his batteries have
arrived."
Mr. Scrafton was alarmed. We looked round, and finding nobody near us
ordered our attendants to put out their torches. We then turned aside
among the other tents, threaded our way through them in the darkness
till we came out on to the road running towards the English lines, and
in this way contrived to escape and get back to camp.
In order to the better understanding of what now took place, in
default of a chart, I must explain how the two armies were situated.
The river Hooghley, which here runs pretty straight north and south,
forms, as it were, the string of a bent bow, the bow itself being
represented by the Morattoe ditch of which I have so often had
occasion to speak. The whole of the territory thus enclosed belonged
to the Company, and measured about five miles in length, and one and a
half miles in breadth at its widest part. The fort and town of
Calcutta occupied only a small space in the centre, the rest of the
ground being broken up into gardens with a few country residences
scattered about. Of these Omichund's house, now occupied by the Nabob,
lay about a quarter of the way along the ditch, from the point where
it joins the river Hooghley at the north end of the enclosure. The
remainder of their army lay in tents along a space of three miles, but
on the outside of the ditch. Colonel Clive, as I have before
explained, had entrenched his camp also on the further side, next to
the river, lying between that and the Moors' encampment.
The moment we had made our report to Colonel Clive his mind was made
up. Springing on to his feet, and striding up and down in the tent, he
exclaimed--
"That settles it, if we are to strike a blow at all it must be now! I
have done my best to procure a peace, knowing the risk I run by
undertaking the attack of an army of forty thousand men with the
little handful I have here under my command. But it is plain that I
have to choose between that and yielding everything to the Nabob. Mr.
Scrafton, write a letter in my name to the Admiral, asking him for as
many seamen as he can spare; and do you, Ford, go and summon the
officers here to receive their orders."
The news that an attack was intended spread like wild-fire through the
little camp, and caused the greatest excitement, many regarding it as
a desperate venture from which we should never return alive. Our total
force was 650 Englishmen, with 800 Sepoys, and another 100 to serve
the artillery. These were reinforced by 600 men from the ships, armed
with matchlocks, who were put ashore secretly at midnight. Our guns
were six-pounders, and as we had no horses, except one which had come
with the expedition from Madras, the cannon had to be drawn by seamen.
Old Muzzy was among the party, and was given charge of one of the
guns, of which there were six altogether. I went up to speak to him
before he set out, and found him much discontented with the service.
"It's this way, my lad," he said, addressing me with a freedom which I
could not resent, considering what he had done for me in the past, "I
understand sailing on salt water, and I understand fighting, but when
they puts me in charge of this here craft on wheels, with neither
spars nor yet oars to work it, and tells me to navigate it, I ain't
exactly sure of my soundings. It seems to me that there ought to be a
windlass to draw her up. Bust my stays if I can make out how I'm to
make her answer her helm!"
With these grumblings he entertained me till the signal was given to
start, when I repaired to the side of Mr. Clive, who took his station
in the centre of the column. We marched three abreast, four hundred of
the Sepoys going in front, then the European troops, then the second
half of the Sepoys, and last of all the guns escorted by the sailors.
Mr. Clive's plan, so far as he permitted it to be known, was to strike
right through the Nabob's army, before they were prepared to receive
us, and attack the Nabob himself in Omichund's enclosure.
It was just before daybreak when the head of our little column came
upon the advance guard of the enemy. These at once fled, after
discharging their pieces, but one of their shots, striking a Sepoy's
cartouch box, caused a slight explosion, which threw our advance into
some confusion for a moment. We pressed forward, picking our way as
we best could in the obscurity; for no sooner was it day than a thick
fog, such as is common in this season of the year in Bengal, descended
upon us, wrapping everything in darkness. We had gone perhaps half a
mile without molestation, dispersing the scattered parties of the
Indians as we advanced, when there broke upon our ears the sound of
heavy galloping from the quarter where we supposed Omichund's house to
lie. Colonel Clive at once ordered a halt; we faced to the right,
whence the sound proceeded, and as soon as the dim forms of the
approaching squadron loomed upon us out of the mist, the word was
given to fire. The whole line delivered a volley at a distance of
about thirty paces, whereupon the phantom horsemen at once turned and
fled back, uttering loud cries as they were swallowed up again in the
darkness.
By this time it was evident that our position had become extremely
perilous. We resumed our march, as nearly as we could keep it in the
former direction, and continued groping our way in the mist through
the heart of the enemy's camp, firing volleys by platoons to right and
left, but without knowing where our bullets went, while the men with
the guns discharged single shots from time to time along the sides of
the column into the darkness ahead.
After we had gone on in this fashion for some time, not receiving much
interruption from the enemy, but greatly troubled by the increasing
obscurity, which rendered it difficult to see so much as a yard in
front, there suddenly arose a murmur from amongst the Sepoys at the
head of the column. Colonel Clive sent to demand the meaning of this,
and the messenger returned with the intelligence that the men had
stumbled upon a causeway, crossing our line of march, and leading to
the Morattoe ditch on our right. He at once gave the order that the
troops should mount upon this causeway and march towards the ditch.
Unfortunately, however, no notice of this change in the direction was
given to the artillerymen in the rear, who continued to fire, as they
supposed, to the side of the column. A cannon ball came among the
Sepoys on the causeway, killing several of them. Thereupon the rest
sought shelter by leaping down on the other side of the causeway, and
the whole forward part of the troops was huddled together in
confusion.
The darkness made it difficult to ascertain at first what had
happened, but as soon as Mr. Clive understood he gave the order to
cease firing, and brought the whole force across the causeway, where
he strove to restore their formation. It was his intention to have
advanced along the causeway, driven away the Moors stationed to defend
it, and forced his way through to the English side of the ditch. But
while he was engaged in restoring order among the troops, the enemy,
no doubt overhearing our movements, commenced a discharge on us from
some cannon loaded with langrain, which they seemed to have brought
up within a few hundred yards of us. The shot striking the troops
while still bundled together, did us the most damage we received that
day; indeed it was a very terrifying thing to suddenly hear the roar
of artillery so close at hand, and see men falling right and left from
shots fired by an invisible foe.
Under these circumstances it was wonderful to see the coolness of
Colonel Clive, who continued to give his orders without appearing the
least dismayed, and deployed the men into line again as steadily as
though we were in our own camp, and not in the midst of the Moors.
Abandoning all thoughts of the causeway, he ordered the column to
resume its course to the southward, so as to reach the main road into
Calcutta, by which we might cross the ditch and return in safety. This
necessitated our leaving the wounded, about twenty in number, who
broke into grievous cries at the prospect of being deserted to the
cruelty of the Moors.
Among the voices raised in complaint I heard one which I believed I
knew. I hastened to look among the figures on the ground, and
presently made out the form of old Muzzy himself, who lay with his
right leg doubled up under him.
"Is that you?" I exclaimed, bending over him. "Where have you been
hurt? Is it serious?"
"Athelstane!" He looked up, turning his eyes on me with an appeal
which went to my heart. "They've riddled my leg with their cursed
heathenish small shot, curse them! If it had been a Christian bullet,
now, I shouldn't ha' minded so much. Give me a hand, my boy, and I'll
see if I can stand up."
I put my arms round him and lifted him partly from the ground, while
he clutched at me with both hands. The next instant a groan broke from
his clenched teeth.
"It's no good, lad, I can't do it. Go, and save yourself if you can;
and leave old Muzzy to take his rating below decks at last!"