"Monday Morning, Nine o'clock.
"Thank God, I do now inform you that Bob continues better, and
is in a very likely way to recover. We hope that the crisis of
the fever was on Saturday last about noon, it having abated ever
since. His exceeding patience is also exchanged for as eminent a
degree of crossness, which we take as a good omen of his mending.
I am writing this close to his bed-side, and he is crying with the
greatest impatience for me to lie on the bed with him; nor will he
be quiet one moment, with all the fine words I can give him, which
now makes me conclude abruptly," &c.
On the 11th of January, Mr. Bayley informs his correspondent, that
Robert had had another severe attack of fever; from which, however,
he was so far recovered as to be very merry and able to walk himself.
In answer to some remarks of Mr. King, he details the symptoms, and
mode of cure adopted. The fever seems to have been connected with the
stomach, and yielded to the usual remedies.
Mr. Bayley, about a fortnight afterwards, informs Mr. King of his
nephew's recovery:--
"Manchester, Jan. 26.[16] 1728.
"Sabbath Day evening, ten o'clock.
"REV. AND DEAR SIR,
"Yesterday Bob came down into the parlour, the first time. He goes
on successfully with the bark, and is very merry, and good as it
is possible. He is poor and thin; but in a brave way, and has a
stomach for more meat than we dare give him. He can run about, and
chatters continually, and is always asking questions, one of which
I must enquire of you, before I can answer him; viz., when yourself
and his aunt Fanny will come over to see him? We are all pretty
well, and full of that joy which so happy any issue of so long and
threatening an affliction naturally produceth. Our sincere respects
and services to all: conclude me," &c.
"This afternoon, Bob, with some reluctance, suffered his aunt
Bay[17] to go to chapel."
Young Clive seems to have resided chiefly with his aunt Bayley, down
to at least the year 1732. In June of that year, Mr. Bayley gives his
friend Mr. King some very characteristic traits of his nephew's temper.
"I hope," says he[18], "I have made a little farther conquest over Bob,
and that he regards me, in some degree, as well as his aunt Bay. He
has just had a suit of new clothes, and promises by his reformation to
deserve them. I am satisfied that his fighting (to which he is out of
measure addicted) gives his temper a fierceness and imperiousness, that
he flies out upon every trifling occasion: for this reason I do what
I can to suppress the hero, that I may help forward the more valuable
qualities of meekness, benevolence, and patience. I assure you, Sir, it
is a matter of concern to us, as it is of importance to himself, that
he may be a good and virtuous man, to which no care of ours shall be
wanting."
These strong and early indications of future character, for he had not
yet attained the age of seven, are not a little curious. The spirit of
daring and of command seems to have been natural to him. The anxious
care of his relations may have softened and soothed his impetuosity,
but could not change the bent of his genius. The spirit of "the Hero,"
which already began to show itself, seems to have turned him from the
peaceful sports of childhood, just as, at a later period, it called him
to exchange his mercantile studies and occupations for the bustle and
turmoil of war, so much more congenial to the ardour of his mind.
On the 26th of February, 1735, Clive lost his aunt Mrs. Bayley, but he
continued on an affectionate footing in the family, and always reverted
with pleasure to the years he had spent among them.
Mr. Richard Clive formed high hopes of his son while yet a child.
This anticipation of his future greatness, which seems to have been
founded more on the boy's display of courage and sagacity, than on his
acquirements as a scholar, was confirmed by the opinion of Dr. Eaton,
to whose school, at Lostocke, in Cheshire, he was sent when very young;
and this respectable man had the foresight to predict, "that if his
scholar lived to be a man, and opportunity enabled him to exert his
talents, few names would be greater than his."
At the age of eleven, Robert Clive went from Lostocke to Market
Drayton, where he was placed under the tuition of the Rev. Mr. Burslem.
After a few years, he was sent to the public seminary of Merchant
Taylors' school in London, whence he went again to a private school,
kept by Mr. Sterling, at Hemel Hempstead, in Hertfordshire, with whom
he remained till 1743, when he was appointed a writer in the service of
the East India Company.
The few anecdotes that are preserved of the early life of Clive tend
chiefly to show that he was endowed, in a remarkable degree, with that
constitutional courage which so essentially promoted his rise in the
military profession, and which, it is probable, led him to adopt it.
One well-authenticated and extraordinary instance is recorded of his
boldness as a boy. The church at Market Drayton, which stands on the
side of a hill, has a lofty steeple, near the top of which is a stone
spout of the form of a dragon's head. It was with no slight surprise
and alarm, his companions, and some of the inhabitants, saw young Clive
seated on this spout, and evincing by his manner an indifference, if
not insensibility, to the danger of his situation.[19]
Several of the oldest inhabitants of Market Drayton not only confirm
this fact, but add, on the testimony of their parents, that Clive was
wont to levy from some of the shopkeepers contributions in pence and
trifling articles, in compensation to himself, and the little band he
led, for abstaining from breaking their windows, and other mischievous
tricks; and one old man mentioned to a gentleman[20], who resided near
Styche, that he had been repeatedly told by a person who witnessed the
action, that, when a little dam broke, which the boys had made across
the gutter in the street, for the purpose of overflowing a small shop,
with the owner of which they had quarrelled, Clive unhesitatingly threw
his body into the gutter, and remained there till they had repaired
their work of mischief.[21]
Such anecdotes are not likely to have been invented, though they would
long ago have been forgotten, but for the celebrity of him, of whose
daring and decided mind they gave such early proofs.
Clive, who, wherever he went, had the reputation of being a most
unlucky boy, did not probably carry from school any great stock of
acquired knowledge. He was impatient of control, and his application,
in which, however, he was never deficient, was not directed to his
books. This may have deceived those who measure a boy's talents by his
progress in Latin and Greek. When in after-life he wrote to his father
an account of his first successes, the remark of the old gentleman, who
had probably been often fretted by his son's boyish waywardness, and
neglect of his studies, was, "After all, the booby has sense."
He had, however, laid such a foundation at school, as enabled him,
after his arrival at Madras, to employ to advantage the short leisure
then accidentally afforded him, in that self-education, which, after
all, is of all educations the most important. He seems at that later
period to have revived his acquirements, when he felt that it was
become necessary to apply them to practice in the concerns of life,
and to have improved himself in some branches of useful knowledge in
which he felt his deficiencies. Perhaps his progress in them was not
the slower, that his proud mind felt that it was no longer watched by
a master. But whatever may have been his book-learning, his character,
even in the apparently thoughtless course of his schoolboy sports,
was probably undergoing a training that had the strongest influence
on his future success; and though to the common eye he seemed to
be but indulging the youthful passion of excelling and leading his
contemporaries in the trivial and passing pursuits that then formed the
object of their common ambition, he was really, though unconsciously,
by strengthening his active habits of firmness, perseverance, and
self-possession, preparing himself for the more arduous undertakings
that distinguished his future life.
Though Clive in his boyhood was idle, and impatient of control, he
was, notwithstanding, an affectionate son and a kind brother; and he
appears, from his earliest communications with his family after he
quitted England, to have had a mind imbued with good principles and
feelings. He always retained a deep sense of religion: at no period
of his life did he ever indulge in or sanction light or irreverent
conversation on religious subjects. Like many other eminent men, he
seems to have owed much to his mother,--a woman remarkable for her
virtues and talents, and who is reported to have shown much tact
and good sense in soothing and managing the hasty, and occasionally
violent, temper of her husband.
Clive left England in 1743, and from a letter to his father, which
unfortunately is imperfect, it would appear that he reached Madras
late in 1744, after a long and dangerous passage, during the whole
course of which, however, he enjoyed a perfect state of health. The
ship was detained for nine months at the Brazils, and afterwards put
into the Cape of Good Hope. His forced stay in Brazil enabled him to
gain an easy command of the Portuguese language, which was afterwards
of use to him; but the length of the passage, and especially the long
continuance of the ship in harbour, made his extraordinary expenses
greater than usual. This delay was also the cause of his missing the
gentleman to whom he had been recommended at Madras, who in the interim
had gone home; a circumstance that made it necessary for him to
incur a debt, for essential articles, to the captain in whose ship he
went out, and of the extravagance of whose charges he complains, with
apparent justice. This want of means, joined to the want of friends,
made his situation at first rather uncomfortable. He returns warm and
grateful thanks to his father for his kindness to him, especially
in his education. The public servants at Madras he commends, as, in
general, "a set of very prudent and industrious people;" but asks his
father to use his influence to get him transferred to Bengal, as a more
beneficial situation; or to use his interest to have him advanced to
the rank of factor. Still, however, the young adventurer does not lose
sight of his usual manly and independent habits of thinking, nor of his
affectionate attachment to his friends: "I don't doubt," says he, "but
you'll make use of all possible means for my advancement. The world
seems to be greatly debased of late, and interest carries it entirely
before merit, especially in this service; tho' I should think myself
very undeserving were I only to build my foundation on the strength
of the former. I have been contriving a scheme concerning my cousin
Bobby, but whether it may take effect, or my uncle care to intrust him
to these parts, I am entirely at a loss to know. The Company keep two
clergymen at this presidency: now, as there is a vacancy for one of
them, if you could get him elected for this place, I cannot foresee
any better provision can be made for him in England." He describes
the allowances of the clergy, and leaves the decision to his father's
judgment. The whole of the last part of this letter being lost, we are
left in the dark as to its date, and such other particulars as he may
have communicated.
This defect is in part supplied by a letter to his uncle, Mr. Bayley,
which has been fortunately preserved[22], and in which he describes the
feelings, so natural to a young man of ardent affections, far from his
friends and from home, who turns with longing to the scenes of infancy
and youth. After apologising for his delay in writing, he proceeds:--"I
shall always retain a due sense of gratitude for the many obligations
and favours you have laid me under; and the pleasant and delightful
days I have spent with my kind relations and friends in Lancashire
refreshes and entertains my mind with very agreeable ideas. I must
confess, at intervals, when I think of my dear native England, it
affects me in a very particular manner; however, knowing it to be for
my own welfare, I rest content and patient, wishing the views for which
my father sent me here may, in all respects, be fully accomplished. If
I should be so far blest as to revisit again my own country, but more
especially Manchester (the centre of all my wishes), all that I could
hope or desire for would be presented before me in one view."
In a letter to one of his cousins, written in February, 1745, he
indulges in a strain of sentiment, so natural, and so creditable
to a youthful mind, and gives so lively an idea of his feelings of
loneliness, that a pretty large extract from it may not be considered
as here misplaced:--
"DEAR COUSIN,
"The want of a proper conveyance is the only plea I can offer for
not addressing you sooner. It is a long time since I enjoyed the
pleasure of your company and conversation, and as both parties have
been equally culpable, I beg that from henceforth the strictest
amity may subsist between us. The bond of friendship, especially
when united by the ties of blood, ought not to be dissolved on any
consideration whatever; and I believe you'll agree with me, that
the only effectual means to preserve it entire must be by letters,
since the vast ocean which divides us so far asunder won't admit
of it by word of mouth, and which I heartily wish may turn out
to the mutual satisfaction of both of us. If there is any thing
which may properly be called happiness here below, I am persuaded
it is in the union of two friends, who love each other without
the least guile or deceit, who are united by a real inclination,
and satisfied with each other's merit: their hearts are full,
and leave no vacancy for any other passion: they enjoy perpetual
tranquillity, because they enjoy content." After laying his past
omissions on the thoughtlessness of youth, and excusing himself
for not describing the country, as so many histories give a much
more correct idea of it than he could, after so short a residence,
he continues:--"I shall only add, that the intemperance of the
climate, together with the excessive heat of the sun, are very
noxious to our health; and I really think the advantages which
accrue to us here, are greatly overbalanced by the sacrifices we
make of our constitutions. I have not been unacquainted with the
fickleness of fortune, and may safely say I have not enjoyed one
happy day since I left my native country. I am not acquainted
with any one family in the place, and have not assurance enough
to introduce myself without being asked. If the state I am now in
will admit of any happiness, it must be when I am writing to my
friends. Letters surely were first invented for the comfort of
such solitary wretches as myself. Having lost the substantial
pleasure of seeing them, I shall in some measure compensate this
loss, by the satisfaction I shall find in their writings. When you
write me, I beg it may be carelessly, and without study, for I
had much rather read the dictates of the heart than those of the
understanding. The pacquet is just now going to be closed, which
hastens me to a conclusion sooner than I designed. I desire you
to tender my duty to my uncle and aunt, love to my cousins, and
service to all friends; and it will greatly add to the obligations
of him, who esteems it his greatest happiness to be thought
"Your kind and loving Cousin,
"ROBT. CLIVE."
Fort St. George, Feb. 16th, 1744-5.
These letters, though their rather laboured and incorrect style
indicates the writer to have then had little practice in epistolary
correspondence, show, however, the more essential qualities of
excellent principles and an affectionate heart. His spirits seem
already tinged by that melancholy which occasionally attended him
through life. It is a curious, and not uninstructive sight, to observe
the man who, in a few years, was to raise himself by his commanding
talents and heroic daring, to an acknowledged pre-eminence above
all his countrymen in the East, for several months after his first
touching on the shores of that country, the scene of his future glory,
acknowledging that he knew not one family in it, and shrinking with
a sensitive diffidence from the exertion of introducing himself.
Though affectionate, he was wayward and reserved. From this time till
1746, when Madras was taken, there are no accounts of him, except
some anecdotes, tending to prove that he was very ill suited to the
condition of life in which he was placed. His impatience of control,
and wayward and impracticable firmness, never forsook him. On one
occasion it appears that his conduct to the secretary under whom the
writers were placed on their first arrival, was so inconsistent with
the rules of official discipline, that the governor, to whom it was
reported, commanded him to ask that gentleman's pardon. With this
order he complied rather ungraciously; but the secretary immediately
after, before his irritation had time to subside, having invited him to
dinner,--"No, Sir," replied Clive, "the governor did not command me to
_dine_ with you."[23] He is stated to have hazarded, on more than one
occasion, the loss of the service by acts of wildness: and a story was
long current that, either in a fit of despair, or of low spirits, to
which he was subject from his earliest years, he made, at this period,
an attempt upon his own life. A companion, coming into his room in
Writers' Buildings, was requested to take up a pistol and fire it out
of the window: he did so. Clive, who was sitting in a very gloomy mood,
sprang up, and exclaimed--"Well, I am reserved for something! That
pistol," said he to his astonished friend, "I have twice snapped at
my own head." This is not unlikely to be true, nor is its probability
contradicted, by his never having spoken of it to any of his family
after his return to England. But, while he properly threw a veil over
the more violent ebullitions of his youth, he was fond of recurring to
every act of early kindness which had been shown to him; and amongst
these, he considered as one of the most important, his admission, soon
after his arrival in India, into an excellent library belonging to
the Governor of Madras. He now devoted much of his leisure to study,
and there can be little doubt that it was at this time he laid the
foundation of that knowledge, which was so soon to surprise and benefit
his country.
When Madras was taken by the French Admiral La Bourdonnais (A. D.
1746), Clive became a prisoner of war, and like others gave his parole.
It was agreed by the articles of capitulation that the English should
surrender themselves prisoners of war; that the town should, in the
first instance, be given up, but should be ransomed; and M. de la
Bourdonnais gave his promise that he would settle the ransom on easy
and moderate terms.[24] Dupleix, however, who was then at Pondicherry,
ever at variance with the Admiral, insisted that Madras should be rased
to the ground, and called upon the English officers to renew their
parole to a governor whom he appointed. This infraction of the terms
of capitulation was viewed with indignation by all, and construed
into a release from the engagement into which they had entered. De la
Bourdonnais, with regret, found himself unable to fulfil the conditions
stipulated[25]; and Clive, accompanied by his friends Mr. Edmund
Maskelyne, contrived, in the disguise of a native, to escape to Fort
St. David.
Soon after his arrival at this place, he was engaged in a duel with
an officer, to whom he had lost some money at cards, but who, with
his companion, was clearly proved to have played unfairly. Clive was
not the only loser; but the others were terrified into payment by the
threats of those who had won their money. This example had no effect
on him; he persisted in refusing to pay, and was called out by one
of them who deemed himself insulted by his conduct. They met without
seconds: Clive fired, and missed his antagonist, who immediately came
close up to him, and held the pistol to his head, desiring him to
ask his life, with which he complied. The next demand was, to recant
his assertions respecting unfair play. On compliance with this being
refused, his opponent threatened to shoot him. "Fire, and be d----d,"
said the dauntless young man; "I said you cheated; I say so still, and
I will never pay you." The astonished officer threw away his pistol,
saying, Clive was mad. The latter received from his young companions
many compliments for the spirit he had shown; but he not only declined
coming forward against the officer with whom he had fought, but never
afterwards spoke of his behaviour at the card-table. "He has given me
my life," he said, "and though I am resolved on never paying money
which was unfairly won, or again associating with him, I shall never do
him an injury."[26]
Clive, when at Madras, had, as before stated, access to the governor's
library, and, according to his own account, this opportunity of
improving himself was not neglected; but whatever knowledge he
might have attained, his general habits appear to have continued the
same; and it is probable these might have arrested his progress to
distinction, had not the occurrence of a war with the French led to
his adopting a profession, for which he was by disposition infinitely
better fitted than for that which he abandoned.
Clive sought for and obtained an ensign's commission in the army in
1747, and was present with the troops with which Admiral Boscawen, in
1748, made an unsuccessful attack on Pondicherry. The young soldier
became at once distinguished for his activity and forward gallantry.
It is probable, however, that from having been a civilian, he was at
first viewed with jealousy by his military companions. We are told
that on one occasion, when an anxiety to obtain ammunition for the
battery where he was posted led him, instead of sending a serjeant or
corporal, to run himself to bring it, a remark was made, which implied
that it was fear, not zeal, which caused him to leave his post at such
a moment. This remark was repeated to Clive, who instantly went to the
person by whom it was made, to insist upon a distinct acknowledgment
or disavowal of the slander. The latter was attempted, but not to his
satisfaction, and a challenge ensued. As they were retiring to settle
this dispute, his opponent, irritated by some circumstance, struck
him. Clive instantly drew his sword, but they were prevented fighting
by persons who witnessed the transaction. A court of inquiry was held
on their conduct, and the officer who had defamed Clive was ordered
to ask his pardon in front of the battalion to which they belonged.
The court, however, having taken no notice of the blow, Clive, when
the service was over, insisted on satisfaction for that unpardonable
insult. On this being refused, he waved his cane over the head of his
antagonist, telling him he was too contemptible a coward to be beaten.
The day after this transaction the person he had so disgraced resigned
his commission.[27]
No one of these early disputes with his brother officers can be traced
to a perverse[28] or quarrelsome temper. Clive appears in all to have
been the party offended. The resolute manner in which he resented the
injuries done to him raised his reputation for courage, and no doubt
protected him from further insult and outrage.
From the date of Clive's entering the army till the year 1756, we have
no letters or papers of his own that can throw any light upon this
active and eventful period of his life; but the deficiency is well
supplied by the plain narrative of the gallant commander[29] under whom
he served, and by an able writer[30], who dwells upon the development
of his character and his early exploits, with all the interest which
their local importance was calculated to inspire in one, who, to his
high qualifications as an historian, added the fullest acquaintance
with the scenes and persons he so well describes.
A prince of the name of Sahojee, who had seven years before lost the
throne of Tanjore, came to Fort St. David to solicit the English to
restore him. He represented his title to the throne as just, and
affirmed that he had numerous and powerful adherents, who would come
forward the moment they saw him supported; but what had most weight
with the gentlemen at Fort St. David was his offer to cede Devecotta,
a town situated near the mouth of the Coleroon, the possession of
which, it was thought, would prove most advantageous to the trade of
the Company on the coast of Coromandel. The first expedition, which was
sent under the command of Captain Cope, was early compelled to return,
from the difficulties of the country and want of provisions: and the
report of the commander described Sahojee as being totally destitute of
those adherents of whom he had boasted.
The failure of this expedition served only to stimulate to another
effort those who had the management of the Company's affairs. It was
indispensable, they thought, to repair the disgrace incurred by a
retreat before the troops of a native state, but they so far paid
attention to the information given by Captain Cope, as to determine
that the capture of Devecotta, not the restoration of Sahojee, should
be their first object.
The second expedition, consisting of 800 Europeans and 1,500 sepoys,
which was placed under the command of Major Lawrence, succeeded in
taking Devecotta, and in making a treaty with the rajah of Tanjore,
who ceded that fort with a small portion of territory to the Company,
granting at the same time 4,000 rupees per mensem to the fugitive
prince whose cause they had adopted, on condition that he was not again
to disturb the peace of the country.
Clive, who had received the commission of a lieutenant, was on this
service: he solicited Major Lawrence to allow him to lead the storm of
the embankment thrown up to defend the breach: his request was readily
complied with, for his reputation for gallantry stood high. Exposed to
a severe fire, he passed with some difficulty a rivulet, with a design
of taking the enemy's works in flank: the sepoys were in the rear, but
part of them only crossed the rivulet, and these did not close up with
the Europeans, who, as they were presenting their muskets to fire, were
charged in the rear by a party of horse who were within forty yards,
protected and concealed between the projecting towers of the fort. This
attack was at once so rapid and impetuous that in an instant twenty-six
of the platoon were cut down: four had been killed by the fire of the
fort, and four only of the party remained alive. Clive, who narrowly
escaped being cut down by the sabre of one of the horsemen, ran towards
the sepoys, whom he found drawn up in good order. Their appearance
checked the Tanjore horse, who, satisfied with their success, returned
to the station from whence they had made their onset. Major Lawrence,
on seeing what had occurred, advanced to the assault at the head of all
the Europeans of his force, and was soon master of the fort. This event
was soon followed by a treaty of peace with the king of Tanjore. (A. D.
1749.)
We have already seen how Anwar-u-Deen became possessed of his power
in the Carnatic. The military chiefs, however, and the principal
inhabitants of that country gave a reluctant obedience to his
authority. The family of the former nabob continued to be popular;
but the difficulty was to find a representative fit to contend for
the government. The brother of Mahommed Saeed was yet too young,
and Mortaza Ali, governor of Vellore, was deemed too cowardly and
treacherous to merit elevation. All eyes were turned towards Chunda
Sahib, who continued to linger in a Mahratta prison. He was a soldier
of approved conduct and valour, and the generosity of his disposition
recommended him to all classes. But, as the solicitude for his release
increased, the demand of the Mahrattas for his ransom rose. The
ambition of Dupleix at last ended all difficulties. This bold and able
statesman saw no prospect of the French maintaining themselves in India
through the profits of their limited commerce; but his acquaintance
with the divided interests of the native princes led him to hope, that
if he entered upon the arena of their politics, with a popular, if not
a good cause, he might anticipate splendid and profitable results. He
determined, therefore, to aid Chunda Sahib, with whose family, which
had remained at Pondicherry, he made the necessary arrangement for his
release. A sum of seven lacs of rupees was guaranteed to the Mahrattas
as his ransom, and he left his prison, accompanied by a small party
of horse. But fearing to enter the Carnatic with so few followers,
he sought employment, in the hope of increasing their numbers. The
first contest in which he engaged was most unfortunate. In a battle in
which he aided the rajah of Chittledroog against the ranee (or queen)
of Bednore, his son was killed, and himself made a prisoner; but,
falling into the hands of some Mahommedan officers, he persuaded them
not only to release him, but to join his standard on an expedition to
Adoni, to unite with Muzuffer Jung, the son of a favourite daughter of
Nizam-ul-Mûlk, who, on the death of that prince, had entered the lists
to contend for the sovereignty of the Deckan against six of his uncles,
each of whom was aspiring to the same high station.
Chunda Sahib was received with a cordial welcome, and he advised
Muzuffer Jung to proceed instantly to the Carnatic, stating the
strength and reputation he would gain by giving a nabob to that
country, and promising to obtain the aid of a French corps to establish
his own title in the Deckan. The proposal was immediately adopted. A
body of 400 Europeans and 2000 sepoys joined from Pondicherry, and in
the first battle, which was fought near Amboor, Anwar-u-Deen was slain.
The French corps greatly distinguished themselves in this action, and
above all Bussy, who on this day displayed to the admiring Mahommedan
chiefs that valour and skill which laid the foundation of the merited
fame he afterwards acquired.
Muzuffer Jung, after this victory, assumed all the state of subadar
of the Deckan; and his first act was to issue a patent to his friend
Chunda Sahib, appointing him nabob of the Carnatic. Much valuable time
was lost by these chiefs in vain ceremonies at Arcot, and in a visit
to Pondicherry, where they were received and treated in a magnificent
manner by Dupleix.
(1749.) Maphuze Khan, the eldest son of Anwar-u-Deen, had been made
prisoner on the day his father was killed; but Mahommed Ali, his
younger brother, fled to Trichinopoly, from whence he strongly, but at
first vainly, solicited the English for aid. The committee at Fort St.
David saw too clearly the development of the great plans of Dupleix,
nor were they ignorant that the success of these plans must involve
the ruin of the interests of which they had charge. But they had not,
like Dupleix, foreseen the events which were to occur, and had received
no orders from England that could justify their entering upon a scene
of extended operations; nor could they with a good grace remonstrate
against the proceedings of the French. Their own conduct in aiding a
pretender to the petty principality of Tanjore, though the object was
comparatively insignificant, was not very dissimilar in mode, and as
unjustifiable in principle, as the support given by Dupleix to Muzuffer
Jung. Besides these reasons for temporary inaction, the English were
anxious to repossess Madras, and the period fixed for its delivery by
the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle had arrived. The French gave it up with
the fortifications much improved; but those of Fort St. David in the
meanwhile had been much more so, and the Directors commanded that it
should henceforward be deemed the superior settlement.
The English authorities had some time before entered into a
correspondence with Nizam-ul-Mûlk, through his son Nasir Jung; and
Admiral Griffin had called upon the subadar of the Deckan to exercise
his authority in the dependant province of Arcot, in order to obtain
reparation for the injuries they had sustained, particularly by the
capture of Madras. This communication had been favourably received,
and orders had been sent to Anwar-u-Deen to redress the evils of
which the English complained; but these orders met with little or no
attention.[31] The intercourse, however, which had been established
with Nasir Jung was now revived; and when that prince, who had been
proclaimed the successor to his father, marched towards the Carnatic
to reduce his nephew Muzuffer Jung, and summoned Mahommed Ali to his
standard, who carried with him 6000 of his own followers and a small
body of English, the latter were, at Nasir Jung's request, reinforced
by a body of 600 Europeans under Major Lawrence.
Nasir Jung, pleased with these proofs of allegiance and support,
proclaimed Mahommed Ali Nabob of the Carnatic, with whose fortunes
those of the English became from that day intimately associated.
An able author[32], well qualified from the extent and accuracy of
his observation to decide upon the true character of the events he
describes, has justly ridiculed the attempts which have been made
to defend the sacred right of inheritance claimed by any one of the
candidates for power that now appeared upon the stage. The authority of
the Emperor of Delhi over the south of India, during the long life of
Nizam-ul-Mûlk, had been merely nominal. Nasir Jung rested his right of
succession to his father on the falsely assumed pretext of his elder
brother[33] having, in pursuit of his schemes of ambition at Delhi,
resigned the office of subadar of the Deckan. Muzuffer Jung _asserted_
his claim on a pretended will of his grandfather Nizam-ul-Mûlk: no
proof was ever given of the existence of such a will; and if it did
exist, it never could, according to Indian law or usage, be pleaded
to the exclusion of the sons of that prince. Mahommed Ali claimed the
title of nabob, to the exclusion of his elder brother Maphuze Khan, by
virtue of a promise of Nizam-ul-Mûlk, now confirmed by the act of his
son Nasir Jung; while Chunda Sahib put forward no claims beyond his own
character, his near connection with the respected family of Saadet Ali,
and the right of Muzuffer Jung, while exercising the power of subadar
of the Deckan, to appoint whom he chose to be Nabob of Arcot.
These various pretensions, alike groundless as matters of right, were
about to be referred to the sword, which alone could decide claims of
such a character. The troops of the rival trading companies of England
and France, though these nations were at peace, stood arrayed as
mercenaries in the opposing ranks of Indian princes. Each endeavoured
to cast the blame upon the other, as the cause of this hostility; but
it is sufficiently obvious, that whatever pretext the English might
have afforded by their petty unjustifiable attack upon Tanjore, they
could not remain neuter when Dupleix took the part he did in Indian
politics, without the imminent hazard of being deprived of all their
privileges, if not expelled from their possessions on the coast of
Coromandel. The great error they committed was, not to have foreseen
the crisis which had now occurred, and not to have prevented Admiral
Boscawen from returning to England, leaving them every way inferior in
strength, both by land and sea, to their formidable opponents.
Muzuffer Jung and Chunda Sahib had wasted that time which should have
been given to the attack of Trichinopoly, in levying tribute from the
Rajah of Tanjore, who was also compelled to give a sum of money[34],
and to make cession of territory to the French. Alarmed at the rapid
advance of Nasir Jung, they hastened to Pondicherry, where they were
reinforced by Dupleix, who, besides an advance of money, increased
the French contingent to 2000 Europeans, a large body of sepoys, and
a well-served train of artillery (A. D. 1750). This formidable corps
gave every promise of success to Muzuffer Jung, whose army, having
strongly entrenched themselves, waited the attack of their opponents
with the fullest confidence of ultimate success. Their position was
so excellent, that Major Lawrence advised Nasir Jung against an
attack, but that prince replied, "That it did not become the son of
Nizam-ul-Mûlk to retreat before such an enemy: he would," he said,
"attack them in front." A cannonade took place the same day, and a
general action was expected to ensue; but the French corps was suddenly
disorganised by the resignation of no less than thirteen commissioned
officers, who had been for some time discontented, and who disgraced
themselves by abandoning the standard of their country at the very
moment of action; at a period, too, when every personal consideration
should have been sacrificed at the shrine of national glory, and when
private interest should have given way before the public welfare. This
mutiny (for such it was) appeared likely to spread, and the French
commander was compelled to retreat towards Pondicherry. The defection
of the corps on which they so much relied defeated all the hopes
of Chunda Sahib and Muzuffer Jung. The former, with his adherents,
accompanied the French corps; while the latter, fearing the dispersion
or desertion of his army, hastened to throw himself on the mercy of his
uncle, who proffered every kindness, but who, the moment he had him in
his power, threw him into prison.
Dupleix evinced upon this occasion, that his was a character not to
be depressed by reverses. He punished the guilty officers, brought to
trial the commandant for retreating without orders, and took every
step that could restore the discipline and efficiency of the French
troops, or give spirit and confidence to their allies and adherents.
The vain and dissolute Nasir Jung took little advantage of his success.
A refusal to grant to his English allies a tract of territory near
Madras,--the promised reward of their assistance,--induced Major
Lawrence to return with his corps to Fort St. David; while the French,
who had in part redeemed their reputation by a successful attack on
a portion of the subadar's army, and by the capture of Masulipatam,
now ventured to support Chunda Sahib in more extended operations
against the principal strongholds in the Carnatic. Mahommed Ali
earnestly entreated the aid of the English to defend his newly-acquired
territory, representing the ruin which must attend their affairs on
the success of the French. This aid was granted, on his consenting
to pay the troops, but the failure in his engagements, and the weak
and cowardly character of his military operations, led to its being
withdrawn. He was soon afterwards defeated by the French, who followed
up this success by one of still greater importance,--the capture by
storm of Gingee, an almost inaccessible hill fortress.
The manner in which the works of a stronghold, hitherto deemed
impregnable, were successively carried by Bussy, to whose valour and
military skill the arduous task was assigned, struck awe into the
natives of India, and was viewed by Europeans with astonishment. It had
not been discovered (as it has since been by frequent similar successes
in India), that where men rely upon steep and high mountains, and
rugged or scarped rocks, as defences, other means and advantages are
neglected; and if the assailants overcome those natural obstacles which
have been deemed insuperable, the spirit of the defenders is gone,
and they seldom, if ever, offer that bold and determined resistance,
which the same troops have been found to do in half-walled towns, or
villages, where, from the first, they could confide in nothing but
their own firmness and courage.
The success of the French, but particularly their last exploit, roused
Nasir Jung from that dream of security into which he had fallen.
He recalled that part of his army which he had sent to Golconda,
and commenced a correspondence with Dupleix. That able man, while
he carried on a negotiation with this prince, had established a
communication with some of the principal persons[35] in his camp,
who, when their plot against him was matured, were to summon to their
aid a French force of 4000 men encamped near Gingee. The treaty which
Dupleix pretended a desire to negotiate was signed by Nasir Jung on
the same day the conspirators sent in the concerted summons; but the
latter reached its destination first, and the French force, under M.
Delatouche, moved before daylight next morning to commence their attack
on the camp of the subadar. They were opposed by the troops which
remained firm to their duty; but the action was soon decided by Nasir
Jung's death. The unsuspecting prince had repaired to the lines of
the Patan chiefs, with the view of exciting them to exertion; but, as
he raised himself on the seat of his elephant to salute the Nabob of
Kurpa, two carabine balls pierced his body, and he instantly expired.
His head stuck upon a spear, announced his fate to the army. Muzuffer
Jung was released, and by nine o'clock of the same morning was, without
opposition, installed as subadar of the Deckan, although no fewer than
four brothers of the deceased were in camp.[36]
Dupleix had evinced throughout these extraordinary scenes a mixture
of European and Asiatic character, which marked him as the fittest of
all instruments for a government which cherished a wish, as it appears
the French did at this period, to obtain, through the influence of
alliances with native states, the superiority over all their European
rivals in India; and gained, as he merited, a rich reward from Muzuffer
Jung, both by a share in the treasures of the late subadar, and by a
commission which constituted him governor over all the countries south
of the Kistna; making Chunda Saheb his deputy of Arcot.
After all engagements were completed, the new subadar commenced his
march towards Hyderabad, accompanied by a force of 300 Europeans,
and 2000 sepoys. The French troops had, by their recent conduct,
established with the natives of India a high military reputation, the
maintenance of which could not have been entrusted to abler hands than
those of Bussy, who was nominated to the command of the subsidiary
force with Muzuffer Jung. That prince, however, was not destined
long to enjoy the happy turn of his fortune. The Patan nabobs who
raised him to the throne, cherished expectations which he could not
gratify; and their turbulent spirit, not brooking delay, broke out
into rebellion. In an attempt to reduce the insurgents, Muzuffer Jung
was slain. The disastrous consequences which this event was likely
to produce, were averted by the judgment and decision of Bussy, who
instantly proclaimed Salabut Jung (the eldest of the imprisoned sons
of Nizam-ul-Mûlk) Subadar of the Deckan. That prince, grateful for his
unexpected elevation, confirmed all the engagements which his nephew
had contracted with Dupleix, and the army continued its march to
Hyderabad.
It has been necessary to say thus much regarding the different princes
of the Deckan, from their connexion with the scenes which took place in
the Carnatic, and which it would be impossible to understand without
the explanations which have been given.
For the present, we leave Bussy and his force to the prosecution of the
first great enterprise of an European power in the interior of India.
The detail of the remarkable scene of warfare and of politics which
awaited that extraordinary man, in the territories of Hyderabad, is
foreign to the object of this memoir. We return, therefore, to the
narration of events in the Carnatic, which becomes a more pleasing
task, as our countrymen now ceased to be eclipsed, as they had
hitherto been, by the brilliant characters both of the French military
commanders and statesmen.