by G. A. Henty
While these negotiations had been going on, Charlie Marryat had remained in Calcutta. He had been severely wounded in the attack on Chandranagore, and was carried down to Calcutta in a boat. On arriving there, he heard that the Lizzie Anderson had just cast anchor off the fort. He caused himself at once to be conveyed on board, and was received with the greatest heartiness and pleasure, by his old friend, the captain; and assiduously attended by the doctor of the ship. In order that he might have as much air as possible, the captain had a sort of tent, with a double covering, erected on deck. During the daytime the sides of this were lifted, so that the air could pass freely across the bed.
Charlie’s wound was a severe one and, had he been nursed in a hospital on shore, it is probable that it would have been fatal. Thanks, however, to the comforts on board ship, the freshness and coolness of the situation, and the care of all surrounding him, he was, after some weeks’ illness, pronounced convalescent; and was sufficiently recovered to join the force with which Clive marched against Plassey.
This force consisted of nine hundred and fifty European infantry, a hundred artillerymen, fifty sailors, and two thousand one hundred Sepoys. The artillery consisted of eight six-pounders and two small howitzers. The army of the nabob was fifty thousand strong, and against such a force it was, indeed, an adventurous task for an army of three thousand men, of whom only one-third were Europeans, to advance to the attack. Everything depended, in fact, upon Meer Jaffier and his two colleagues in treachery, Rajah Dulab Ram and Yar Lutf Khan.
The nabob, on hearing of Clive’s advance, had sent to Monsieur Law; who was, with a hundred and fifty men, at a place over a hundred miles distant; to which he had, in accordance with the orders of Clive, been obliged to retire; and begged him to advance to join him, with all speed. The nabob had with him forty or fifty Frenchmen, commanded by Monsieur Saint Frais, formerly one of the council of Chandranagore. These had some field pieces of their own, and also directed the native artillery, of fifty-three guns; principally thirty-two, twenty-four, and eighteen pounders.
Had Clive been sure of the cooperation of Meer Jaffier and his confederates, who commanded three out of the four divisions of the nabob’s army, he need not have hesitated. But he was, till the last moment, in ignorance whether to rely upon them. The nabob, having become suspicious of Meer Jaffier, had obtained from him an oath, sworn on the Koran, of fidelity; and although the traitor continued his correspondence with Clive, his letters were of a very dubious character, and Clive was in total ignorance as to his real intentions. So doubtful, indeed, was he that, when only a few miles of ground and the river Bhagirathi lay between him and the enemy, Clive felt the position so serious that he called a council of war; and put to them the question whether they should attack the nabob, or fortify themselves at Katwa, and hold that place until the rainy season, which had just set in with great violence, should abate.
All the officers above the rank of subalterns, twenty in number, were present. Clive himself, contrary to custom, gave his vote first in favour of halting at Katwa. Major Kilpatrick, who commanded the Company’s troops, Major Grant of the 37th, and ten other officers voted the same way. Major Eyre Coote declared in favour of an immediate advance. He argued that the troops were in high spirits, and had hitherto been everywhere successful, and that a delay would allow Monsieur Law and his troops to arrive. He considered that, if they determined not to fight, they should fall back upon Calcutta. Charlie Marryat supported him, as did five other officers, all belonging to the Indian service.
The decision taken, the council separated, and Clive strolled away to a grove, and sat down by himself. There he thought over, in his mind, the arguments which had been advanced by both sides. He saw the force of the arguments which had been adduced by Major Eyre Coote and Charlie Marryat; and his own experience showed him that the daring course is always the most prudent one, in fighting Asiatics. At last, he came to a conclusion. Rising, he returned to the camp; and, meeting Major Coote on the way, informed him that he had changed his mind, and would fight the next day.
Charlie returned to his tent after the council broke up, disheartened at the result. He was greeted by Tim.
“Shure, yer honor, Hossein is in despair. The water has filled up the holes, where he makes his fires, and the rain has soaked the wood. Yer dinner is not near cooked yet, and half the dishes are spoilt.”
“It does not matter a bit, Tim,” Charlie said. “You know I’m not particular about my eating, though Hossein will always prepare a dinner fit for an alderman.”
“We are going to fight them tomorrow, yer honor, I hope,” Tim said. “It’s sick to death I am of wading about here in the wet, like a duck. It’s as bare as the bogs of ould Ireland, without the blessings of the pigs and potatoes, to say nothing of the colleens.”
“No, Tim, I’m afraid we’re going to stop where we are, for a bit. The council of war have decided not to fight.”
“Shure and that’s bad news,” Tim said. “The worst I’ve heard for many a day. What if there be fifty thousand of ’em, Mister Charles, haven’t we bate ’em at long odds before, and can’t we do it agin?”
“I think we could, Tim,” Charlie replied; “but the odds of fifty-three heavy cannon, which the spies say they’ve got, to our ten popguns, is serious. However, I’m sorry we’re not going to fight, and I’m afraid that you must make up your mind to the wet, and Hossein his to giving me bad dinners for some weeks to come; that is to say, if the enemy don’t turn us out of this.”
A few minutes later, Lieutenant Peters entered the tent.
“Is it true, Charlie, that we are not going to fight, after all?”
“True enough,” Charlie said. “We are to wait till the rains are over.”
“Rains!” Peters said, in disgust; “what have the rains got to do with it? If we had a six weeks’ march before us, I could understand the wet weather being a hindrance. Men are not water rats, and to march all day in these heavy downpours, and to lie all night in the mud, would soon tell upon our strength. But here we are, within a day’s march of the enemy, and the men might as well get wet in the field as here. Everyone longs to be at the enemy, and a halt will have a very bad effect.
“What have you got to drink, Charlie?”
“I have some brandy and rum; nothing else,” Charlie said. “But what will be better than either for you is a cup of tea. Hossein makes it as well as ever. I suppose you have dined?”
“Yes, half an hour ago.”
Just as Charlie finished his meal, Major Eyre Coote put his head into the tent.
“Marryat, the chief has changed his mind. We cross the river the first thing in the morning, and move at once upon Plassey.”
“Hurrah!” Charlie shouted; “Clive is himself again. That is good news, indeed!”
“You will move your Sepoys down to the river at daybreak, and will be the first to cross. There is no chance of any opposition, as the spies tell us that the nabob has not arrived yet at Plassey.”
Several other officers afterwards dropped into the tent, for the news rapidly spread through the camp. There was, as had been the case at the council, considerable differences of opinion as to the prudence of the measure; but among the junior officers and men, the news that the enemy were to be attacked, at once, was received with hearty satisfaction.
“Here, major,” a fellow subaltern of Peters’ said, as he entered the tent, followed by a servant; “I have brought in half a dozen bottles of champagne. I started with a dozen from Calcutta, and had intended to keep these to celebrate our victory. But as, in the first place, all heavy baggage is to be left here; and in the second, it has occurred to me that possibly I may not come back to help to drink it; we may as well turn it to the good purpose of drinking success to the expedition.”
Some of the bottles were opened, and a merry evening was spent; but the party broke up early, for they had a heavy day’s work before them, on the morrow.
At daybreak, the troops were in movemen
t towards the banks of the Bhagirathi. They had brought boats with them from Chandranagore, and the work of crossing the river continued, without intermission, until four in the afternoon, when the whole force was landed on the left bank. Here Clive received another letter from Meer Jaffier, informing him that the nabob had halted at Mankarah, and intended to entrench himself there. He suggested that the English should undertake a circuitous march, and attack him in the rear; but as this march would have exposed Clive to being cut off from his communications, and as he was still very doubtful of the good faith of the conspirators, he determined to march straight forward; and sent word to Meer Jaffier, to that effect.
From the point where Clive had crossed the Bhagirathi it was fifteen miles to Plassey, following, as they did, the curves of the river. It was necessary to do this, as they had no carriage; and the men were obliged to tow their supplies in boats, against the stream.
Orders were issued that, as soon as the troops were across, they should prepare to eat their dinners, as the march was to be resumed at once. The rain was coming down in a steady pour as the troops, drenched to the skin, started upon their march. The stream, swollen by the rains, was in full flood, and the work of towing the heavy-laden barges was wearisome in the extreme. All took a share in the toil. In many cases the river had overflowed its banks, and the troops had to struggle through the water, up to their waists, while they tugged and strained at the ropes.
Charlie, as a mounted officer, rode at the head of his Sepoys; who formed the advance of the force. Three hundred men preceded the main body, who were towing the boats, to guard them from any sudden surprise. Tim marched beside him, occasionally falling back, and taking a turn at the ropes.
“This is dog’s work, Mister Charles,” he said. “It’s lucky that it’s raining, for the river can’t make us wetter than we are. My hands are fairly sore, with pulling at the ropes.”
“Ah, Tim, you’re not fond of ropes, you know. You remember that night at Moorshedabad.”
“Faith, yer honor, and I’ll not forget it, if I live to be as old as Methuselah. Well, yer honor, it will be hard on us if we do not thrash them niggers, tomorrow, after all the trouble we are taking to be at them.”
At one o’clock in the morning, the weary troops reached the village of Plassey. They marched through it, and halted and bivouacked in a large mango grove, a short distance beyond.
CHAPTER 23
Plassey
Scarcely had the soldiers taken off their packs, when the sound of martial music was heard. Charlie was speaking, at the time, to Major Coote.
“There are the enemy, sure enough,” the latter said. “That old rascal, Meer Jaffier, must have been deceiving us when he said that the nabob had halted at Mankarah. I’m afraid he means to play us false.”
“I expect,” Charlie remarked, “that he does not know what he means, himself. These Asiatics are at any time ready to turn traitors, and to join the strongest. At present, Jaffier does not know what is the stronger; and I think it likely enough that he will take as little share as he can in the battle, tomorrow, till he sees which way it is going. Then, if we are getting the best of it, the rascal will join us, for the sake of the advantages which he expects to gain. If the day is going against us, he will do his best to complete his master’s victory; and should proofs of his intended treachery ever come to light, he will clear himself by saying that he intended to deceive us all along, and merely pretended to treat with us, in order to throw us off our guard, and so deliver us into the hands of his master.”
“Yes,” Major Eyre Coote replied. “These Mohammedan chiefs are indeed crafty and treacherous rascals. The whole history of India shows that gratitude is a feeling altogether unknown to them; and that, whatever favours a master may have lavished upon them, they are always ready to betray him, if they think that by so doing they will better their position.
“Now I shall lie down, and try to get a few hours’ sleep before morning. I am wet to the skin, but fortunately in these sultry nights that matters little.”
“I must go my rounds,” Charlie said, “and see that the sentries are on the alert. If the men were not so tired, I should have said that the best plan would have been to make a dash straight at the enemy’s camp. It would take them quite unprepared, even if they know, as I daresay they do, that we are close at hand; and they would lose all the advantage of their artillery.”
“Yes, if we had arrived an hour before sunset, so as to be able to learn something of the nature of the ground, that would be our best course,” Major Coote agreed. “But, even if the troops had been fresh, a night attack on an unknown position is a hazardous undertaking.
“Good night. I must see Clive, and take his last orders.”
At daybreak the English were astir, and the position of the enemy became visible. He occupied strongly intrenched works, which the Rajah Dulab Ram had thrown up during his stay. The right of these works rested on the river; and extended inland, at a right angle to it, for about two hundred yards; and then swept round to the north, at an obtuse angle, for nearly three miles. At the angle was a redoubt, mounted with cannon. In advance of this was a mound, covered with jungle. Halfway between the intrenchments and the mango grove were two large tanks, near the river, surrounded by high mounds of earth. These tanks were about half a mile from the English position. On the river bank, a little in advance of the grove, was a hunting box belonging to the nabob, surrounded by a masonry wall. Clive took possession of this, immediately he heard the sound of the nabob’s music, on his arrival.
Soon after daylight, the nabob’s troops moved out from their intrenchments, and it was evident that he was aware of the position of the English. The French, with their four field guns, took up their post on the mound of the tank nearest to the grove, and about half a mile distant from it; and in the narrow space between them and the river two heavy guns, under a native officer, were placed.
Behind the French guns was the division of Mir Mudin Khan, the one faithful general of the nabob. It consisted of five thousand horse, and seven thousand foot. Extending, in the arc of a circle, towards the village of Plassey, were the troops of the three traitor generals Rajah Dulab Ram, Yar Lutf Khan, and Meer Jaffier. Thus, the English position was almost surrounded; and in advancing against the camp, they would have to expose themselves to an attack in rear by the troops of the conspirators. These generals had, between them, nearly thirty-eight thousand troops.
From the roof of the hunting box, Clive watched the progress of the enemy’s movements. He saw, at once, that the position which they had taken up was one which would entail the absolute destruction of his force, should he be defeated; and that this depended entirely upon the course taken by the conspirators. Against such a force as that opposed to him, if these remained faithful to their master, success could hardly be hoped for.
However, it was now too late to retreat, and the only course was to show a bold front. Clive accordingly moved his troops out, from the mango trees, to a line with the hunting box. The Europeans were formed in the centre, with three field pieces on each side. The native troops were on either flank. Two field guns, and the two howitzers, were placed a little in advance of the hunting box, facing the French position on the mound.
At eight o’clock in the morning, of the 23rd of June, a memorable day in the annals of India, the preparations on both sides were complete; and Saint Frais opened the battle, by the discharge of one of his guns at the English. At the signal, the whole of the artillery round the long curve opened their fire. The ten little guns replied to this overwhelming discharge, and for half an hour continued to play on the dense masses of the enemy. But, however well they might be handled, they could do little against the fire of the fifty pieces of cannon, concentrated upon them.
Had these been all served by European artillerymen, the British force would have been speedily annihilated as they stood. The natives of India, however, were extremely clumsy gunners. They fired but slowly, and had the feeblest id
ea of elevation. Consequently their balls, for the most part, went far over the heads of the English; and the four field guns of Saint Frais did more execution than the fifty heavy pieces of the nabob. At the end of half an hour, however, Clive had lost thirty of his men, and determined to fall back to the mango grove.
Leaving a party in the hunting box, and in the brick kilns in front of it, in which the guns had been posted, to harass Saint Frais’ battery with their musketry fire, he withdrew the rest of his force into the grove. Here they were in shelter, for it was surrounded by a high and thick bank. Behind this the men sat down, while parties set to work, piercing holes through the banks as embrasures for the guns.
The enemy, on the retreat of the British within the grove, advanced with loud shouts of triumph; and, bringing their guns closer, again opened fire. The British had, by this time, pierced the holes for their field pieces; and these opened so vigorously that several of the enemy’s cannon were disabled, numbers of their gunners killed, and some ammunition waggons blown up. On the other hand the English, now in perfect shelter, did not suffer at all, although the tops of the trees were cut off, in all directions, by the storm of cannon balls which swept through them.
Although the English fire was producing considerable loss among the enemy, this was as nothing in comparison to his enormous numbers; and, at eleven o’clock, Clive summoned his principal officers around him; and it was agreed that, as Meer Jaffier and his associates, of whose position in the field they were ignorant, showed no signs of drawing off, or of treachery to their master, it was impossible to risk an attack upon the front; since they would, as they pressed forward, be enveloped by the forces in the rear. It was determined, therefore, that unless any unexpected circumstance occurred, they should hold their present position till nightfall; and should, at midnight, attack the enemy’s camp.
