After the defeat of the enemy, who had surprised and so nearly
annihilated him, Clive marched at once towards the fort of Baj-baj. On
the way he met Major Kilpatrick, who was advancing, with a force which
had been landed from the ships when the sound of firing was heard, to
his assistance.
The fleet had, at daybreak, opened a heavy fire upon the ramparts; and
by the afternoon effected a breach. As his men were greatly fatigued,
and had had but an hour's sleep, Clive determined upon delaying the
attack until the morning; and a party of two hundred and fifty
sailors, with two guns, were landed to take part in the storming.
Many of these sailors had drunk freely before landing, and as night
fell, some of them strolled towards the fort. One of the number, named
Strahan, moved along, unobserved by the enemy, to the foot of the
breach, climbed up it, and came suddenly upon a party of its defenders
sitting round a fire, smoking. Strahan immediately fired his pistol
among them, with a shout of, "The fort is mine!" and then gave three
rousing cheers.
The enemy leaped to their feet and ran off for a little way. Then,
seeing Strahan was alone, they rushed back and attacked him, firing as
they came. Strahan, drawing his cutlass, defended himself vigorously
for some time; but his weapon broke off at the hilt, just as a number
of Sepoys and men of the 39th, who had been awakened from their sleep
by the shouting and firing, came running up. Reinforcements of the
garrison also joined their friends, but these were dispirited by the
sudden and unexpected attack; and, as the troops continued to stream
up the breach, the garrison were pressed; and, losing heart, fled
through the opposite gate of the fort.
The only casualty on the British side was that Captain Campbell,
marching up at the head of the Sepoys, was mistaken for an enemy by
the sailors, and shot dead. Strahan was, in the morning, severely
reprimanded by the admiral for his breach of discipline; and, retiring
from the cabin, said to his comrades:
"Well, if I am flogged for this here action, I will never take another
fort, by myself, as long as I live."
Manak Chand was so alarmed at the fighting powers shown by the English
in these two affairs, that, leaving only a garrison of five hundred
men at Calcutta, he retired with his army to join the nabob at
Moorshedabad. When the fleet arrived before the town, the enemy
surrendered the fort at the first shot, and it was again taken
possession of by the English.
Major Kilpatrick was at once sent up, with five ships and a few
hundred men, to capture the town of Hoogly, twenty miles farther up.
The defences of the place were strong. It was held by two thousand
men, and three thousand horsemen lay around it. The ships, however, at
once opened a cannonade upon it, and effected a breach before night,
and at daybreak the place was taken by storm.
Two days after the capture of Calcutta, the news arrived that war had
again been declared between England and France. It was fortunate that
this was not known a little earlier; for had the French forces been
joined to those under Manak Chand, the reconquest of Calcutta would
not have been so easily achieved.
The nabob, furious at the loss of Calcutta, and the capture and sack
of Hoogly, at once despatched a messenger to the governor of the
French colony of Chandranagore, to join him in crushing the English.
The governor, however, had received orders that, in the event of war
being declared between England and France, he was, if possible, to
arrange with the English that neutrality should be observed between
them. He therefore refused the nabob's request, and then sent
messengers to Calcutta, to treat.
The nabob had gathered an army of ten thousand foot and fifteen
thousand horse, and advanced against Calcutta, arriving before the
town on the 2nd February, 1757. Clive's force had now, owing to the
arrival of some reinforcements from Europe, and the enlisting of fresh
Sepoys, been raised to seven hundred European infantry, a hundred
artillerymen, and fifteen hundred Sepoys, with fourteen light field
pieces.
The whole of the town of Calcutta was surrounded by a deep cut, with a
bank behind, called the Mahratta Ditch. A mile beyond this was a large
saltwater lake, so that an enemy advancing from the north would have
to pass within a short distance of Clive's intrenched position outside
the town, affording him great opportunities for a flank attack. On the
day of their arrival Clive marched out, but the enemy opened a heavy
fire, and he retired.
Clive determined to attack the enemy, next morning. Admiral Watson, at
his request, at once landed five hundred and sixty sailors, under the
command of Captain Warwick of the Thunderer. A considerable portion of
the enemy had crossed the Mahratta Ditch, and encamped within it. The
nabob himself pitched his tent in the garden of Omichund (a native
Calcutta merchant who, though in the nabob's camp from motives of
policy, sympathized entirely with the English), which occupied an
advanced bastion within the Mahratta Ditch. The rest of the army were
encamped between the ditch and the saltwater lake.
Clive's intentions were to march first against the battery which had
played on him so effectually the day before; and, having carried this,
to march directly against the garden in which the nabob was encamped.
The force with which he started, at three o'clock in the morning of
the 3rd, consisted of the five hundred and sixty sailors, who drew
with them six guns, six hundred and fifty European infantry, a hundred
European artillery, and eight hundred Sepoys. Half the Sepoys led the
advance, the remainder covered the rear.
Soon after daybreak, the Sepoys came in contact with the enemy's
advanced guard, placed in ditches along a road leading from the head
of the lake to the Mahratta Ditch. These discharged their muskets, and
some rockets, and took to flight. One of the rockets caused a serious
disaster. The Sepoys had their ammunition pouches open, and the
contents of one of these was fired by the rocket. The flash of the
flame communicated the fire to the pouch of the next Sepoy, and so the
flame ran along the line, killing, wounding, and scorching many, and
causing the greatest confusion. Fortunately the enemy were not near,
and Captain Eyre Coote, who led the British infantry behind them,
aided Charlie, who led the advance, in restoring order, and the
forward movement again went on.
A new obstacle had, however, arisen. With the morning a dense fog had
set in, rendering it impossible for the troops to see even a few yards
in advance of them. Still they pushed on and, unopposed, reached a
point opposite Omichund's garden, but divided from it by the Mahratta
Ditch.
Presently they heard the thunder of a great body of approaching
cavalry. They waited quietly until the unseen horse had approached
within a few yards of them, and then poured a mighty volley into the
fog. The noise ceased abruptly, and was followed by that of the
enemy's cavalry in retreat.
The fog was now so dense that it was impossible even to judge of the
directions in which the troops were moving. Clive knew, however, that
the Mahratta Ditch was on his right and, moving a portion of his
troops till they touched this, he again advanced, his object being to
gain a causeway which, raised several feet above the country, led from
Calcutta, across the Mahratta Ditch, into the country beyond. Towards
this Clive now advanced, his troops firing, as they marched, into the
fog ahead of them, and the guns firing from the flanks, obliquely, to
the right and left.
Without experiencing any opposition Clive reached the causeway, and
the Sepoys, turning to their right, advanced along this towards the
ditch. As they crossed this, however, they came in the line of fire of
their own guns, the officer commanding them being ignorant of what was
taking place in front, and unable to see a foot before him. Charlie,
closely accompanied always by Tim, was at the head of his troops when
the iron hail of the English guns struck the head of the column,
mowing down numbers of men. A panic ensued, and the Sepoys, terror
stricken at this discharge, from a direction in which they considered
themselves secure, leaped from the causeway into the dry ditch and
sheltered themselves there. Charlie and his companion were saved by
the fact that they were a few paces ahead of the column.
"Run back, Tim," Charlie said. "Find Colonel Clive, and tell him that
we are being mowed down by our own artillery. If you can't find him,
hurry back to the guns, and tell the officer what he is doing."
Charlie then leaped down into the ditch, and endeavoured to rally the
Sepoys. A few minutes later Clive himself arrived, and the Sepoys were
induced to leave the ditch, and to form again by the side of the
causeway, along which the British troops were now marching.
Suddenly, however, from the fog burst out the discharge of two heavy
guns, which the enemy had mounted on a bastion flanking the ditch. The
shouts of the officers, and the firing of the men, indicated precisely
the position of the column. The grapeshot tore through it, and
twenty-two of the English troops fell dead and wounded. Immediately
afterwards another discharge followed, and the column, broken and
confused, bewildered by the dense fog, and dismayed by the fire of
these unseen guns, fell back.
Clive now determined to push on to the main road, which he knew
crossed the fields half a mile in front of him. The country was,
however, here laid out in rice fields, each inclosed by banks and
ditches. Over these banks it was impossible to drag the guns, and the
sailors could only get them along by descending into the ditches, and
using these as roads. The labour was prodigious, and the men, fatigued
and harassed by this battle in darkness, and by the fire from the
unseen guns which the enemy continued to pour in their direction from
either flank, began to lose heart.
Happily, however, the fog began to lift. The flanks of the columns
were covered by bodies of troops, thrown out on either side, and after
more than an hour's hard work, and abandoning two of the guns which
had broken down, Clive reached the main road, again formed his men in
column, and advanced towards the city.
The odds were overwhelmingly against him. There were guns, infantry,
and cavalry, both in front and behind them. The column pressed on, in
spite of the heavy fire, crossed the ditch, and attacked a strong body
of the enemy drawn up on the opposite side. While it did so, a great
force of the nabob's cavalry swept down on the rear, and for a moment
captured the guns. Ensign Yorke, of the 39th Foot, faced the rear
company about, and made a gallant charge upon the horsemen, drove them
back, and recaptured the guns.
Clive's whole army was now across the ditch, and it was open to him
either to carry out his original plan of attacking Omichund's garden,
or of marching forward into the fort of Calcutta. Seeing that his men
were fatigued, and worn out with six hours of labour and marching
under the most difficult circumstances, he took the latter
alternative, entered Calcutta, and then, following the stream, marched
back to the camp he had left in the morning.
His loss amounted to thirty-nine Europeans killed, and eighteen
Sepoys; eighty-two Europeans wounded, and thirty-five Sepoys; the
casualties being caused almost entirely by the enemy's cannon.
The expedition, from a military point of view, had been an entire
failure. He had carried neither the battery nor Omichund's garden. Had
it not been for the fog he might have succeeded in both these objects;
but, upon the other hand, the enemy were as much disconcerted by the
fog as he was, and were unable to use their forces with any effect.
Military critics have decided that the whole operation was a mistake;
but although a mistake and a failure, its consequences were no less
decisive.
The nabob, struck with astonishment at the daring and dash of the
English, in venturing with so small a force to attack him, and to
march through the very heart of his camp, was seized with terror. He
had lost thirteen hundred men in the fight, among whom were
twenty-four rajahs and lesser chiefs, and the next morning he sent in
a proposal for peace.
A less determined man than Clive would, no doubt, have accepted the
proposal. Calcutta was still besieged by a vastly superior force,
supplies of all kinds were running short, the attack of the previous
day had been a failure. He knew, however, the character of Asiatics,
and determined to play the game of bounce. The very offer of the nabob
showed him that the latter was alarmed. He therefore wrote to him,
saying that he had simply marched his troops through his highness'
camp to show him of what British soldiers were capable; but that he
had been careful to avoid hurting anyone, except those who actually
opposed his progress. He concluded by expressing his willingness to
accede to the nabob's proposal, and to negotiate.
The nabob took it all in. If all this destruction and confusion had
been wrought by a simple march through his camp, what would be the
result if Clive were to take into his head to attack him in earnest?
He therefore at once withdrew his army three miles to the rear, and
opened negotiations. He granted all that the English asked: that all
the property and privileges of the Company should be restored, that
all their goods should pass into the country free of tax, that all the
Company's factories, and all moneys and properties belonging to it or
its servants, should be restored or made good, and that permission
should be given to them to fortify Calcutta as they pleased.
Having agreed to these conditions, the nabob, upon the 11th of
February, retired with his army to his capital; leaving Omichund with
a commission to propose to the English a treaty of alliance, offensive
and defensive, against all enemies. This proposal was a most
acceptable one, and Clive determined to seize the opportunity to crush
the French. His previous experiences, around Madras, had taught him
that the French were the most formidable rivals of England in India.
He knew that large reinforcements were on their way to Pondicherry,
and he feared that the nabob, when he recovered from his panic, might
regret the conditions which he had granted, and might ally himself
with the French in an effort, again, to expel the English.
He therefore determined at once to attack the French. The deputies
sent by Monsieur Renault, the governor of Chandranagore, had been kept
waiting from day to day, under one pretence or another; and they now
wrote to the governor that they believed that there was no real
intention, on the part of the English, to sign an agreement of
neutrality with him; and that they would be the next objects of
attack. Monsieur Renault immediately sent messengers to the nabob,
urging upon him that, if the English were allowed to annihilate the
French, they would be more dangerous enemies than ever; and
Suraja-u-Dowlah, having now recovered from his terror, wrote at once
to Calcutta, peremptorily forbidding any hostilities against the
French.
To show his determination, he despatched fifteen hundred men to
Hoogly, which the English had abandoned after capturing it, with
instructions to help the French if attacked; and he sent a lac of
rupees to Monsieur Renault, to aid him in preparing for his defence.
Clive, unwilling to face a coalition between the French and the nabob,
was in favour of acceding to the nabob's orders. The treaty of
neutrality with the French was drawn up, and would have been signed,
had it not been for the obstinate refusal of Admiral Watson to agree
to it. Between that officer and Clive there had never been any cordial
feeling, and from the time of their first connection, at the siege of
Gheriah, differences of opinion, frequently leading to angry disputes,
had taken place between them. Nor was it strange that this should be
so. Both were brave and gallant men; but while Watson had the
punctilious sense of honor which naturally belongs to an English
gentleman, Clive was wholly unscrupulous as to the means which he
employed to gain his ends.
Between two such men, it is not singular that disagreements arose.
Admiral Watson, impelled by feelings of personal dislike to Clive,
often allowed himself to be carried to unwarrantable lengths. On the
occasion of the capture of Calcutta, he ordered Captain Eyre Coote,
who first entered it, to hold it in the king's name, and to disobey
Clive's orders, although the latter had been granted a commission in
the royal army as lieutenant colonel, and was, moreover, the chief
authority of the Company in all affairs on land. Upon Clive's
asserting himself, Admiral Watson absolutely threatened to open fire
upon his troops. Apparently from a sheer feeling of opposition, he now
opposed the signing of the treaty with the French, and several days
were spent in stormy altercations.
Circumstances occurred, during this time, which strengthened the view
he took, and changed those of Clive and his colleagues of the council.
Just then, the news reached Suraja-u-Dowlah that Delhi had been
captured by the Afghans; and, terrified at the thought that the
victorious northern enemy might next turn their arms against him, he
wrote to Clive, begging him to march to his assistance, and offering a
lac of rupees a month towards the expense of his army.
On the same day that Clive received the letter, he heard that
Commodore James and three ships, with reinforcements from Bombay, had
arrived at the mouth of the Hoogly; and that the Cumberland, with
three hundred troops, which had grounded on her way from Madras, was
now coming up the river.
Almost at the same moment he heard, from Omichund, who had accompanied
the nabob to Moorshedabad, that he had bribed the governor of Hoogly
to offer no opposition to the passage of the troops up the river.
Clive was now ready to agree to Admiral Watson's views, and to advance
at once against Chandranagore; but the admiral again veered round, and
refused to agree to the measure, unless the consent of the nabob was
obtained. He wrote, however, himself, a threatening, and indeed
violent letter to the nabob, ordering him to give his consent. The
nabob, still under the influence of his fears from the Afghans,
replied in terms which amounted to consent, but the very next day,
having received news which calmed his fears as to the Afghans, he
wrote peremptorily, forbidding the expedition against the French. This
letter, however, was disregarded, and the expedition prepared to
start.
It consisted of seven hundred Europeans and fifteen hundred native
infantry, who started by land; a hundred and fifty artillery
proceeding in boats, escorted by three ships of war and several
smaller vessels, under Admiral Watson.
The French garrison consisted only of a hundred and forty-six French,
and three hundred Sepoys. Besides these were three hundred of the
European population, and sailors of the merchant ships in port, who
had been hastily formed into a militia.
The governor, indignant at the duplicity with which he had been
treated, had worked vigorously at his defences. The settlement
extended along the river banks for two miles. In the centre stood the
fort, which was a hundred and twenty yards square, mounting ten
thirty-two pounder guns on each of its four bastions. Twenty
four-pounder guns were placed on the ramparts, facing the river on the
south. On an outlying work commanding the watergate eight thirty-two
pounders were mounted. Monsieur Renault set to work to demolish all
the houses within a hundred yards of the fort, and to erect batteries
commanding the approaches. He ordered an officer to sink several ships
in the only navigable channel, about a hundred and fifty yards to the
south of the fort, at a point commanded by the guns of one of the
batteries.
The officer was a traitor. He purposely sank the ships in such a
position as to leave a channel, through which the English ships might
pass; and then, seizing his opportunity, deserted to them.
On approaching the town Clive, knowing that Charlie could speak the
native language fluently, asked him whether he would undertake to
reconnoitre the position of the enemy, with which he was entirely
unacquainted. Charlie willingly agreed. When, on the night of the 13th
of March, the army halted a few miles from the town, Charlie,
disguising himself in a native dress and accompanied by Hossein, left
the camp and made his way to the town. This he had no difficulty in
entering. It extended a mile and a half back from the river, and
consisted of houses standing in large gardens and inclosures. The
whole of the Europeans were labouring at the erection of the
batteries, and the destruction of the houses surrounding them; and
Charlie and his companion, approaching closely to one of these, were
pounced upon by the French officer in command of a working party, and
set to work, with a number of natives, in demolishing the houses.
Charlie, with his usual energy, threw himself into the work, and would
speedily have called attention to himself, by the strength and
activity which he displayed, had not Hossein begged him to moderate
his efforts.
"Native man never work like that, sahib. Not when he's paid ever so
much. Work still less, no pay. The French would soon notice the sahib,
if he laboured like that."
Thus admonished, Charlie adapted his actions to those of his
companions and, after working until dawn approached, he managed, with
Hossein, to evade the attention of the officer; and, drawing off,
hurried away to rejoin Clive. The latter was moving from the west, by
a road leading to the northern face of the fort. It was at the battery
which Renault was erecting upon this road that Charlie had been
labouring. The latter informed Clive of the exact position of the
work, and also, that although strong by itself, it was commanded by
many adjoining houses; which the French, in spite of their efforts,
had not time to destroy.
This news decided Clive to advance immediately, without giving the
enemy further time to complete their operations.