With Clive in India; Or, The Beginnings of an Empire

Delighted at the prospect, now open to them, of a permanent relief from the drudgery of a clerk's life in Madras, the young fellows were in the highest spirits; and Tim Kelly was scarcely less pleased, when he heard that Charlie was now likely to be always employed with him. The boys lost not a moment in sending down to Madras, to engage the services of a native "moonshee" or teacher. They wrote to their friend Johnson, asking him to arrange terms with the man who understood most English, and to engage him to remain with them some time.

A few days later, Tim Kelly came in.

"Plase, yer honors, there's a little shrivelled atomy of a man outside, as wants to spake wid ye. He looks for all the world like a monkey, wrapped up in white clothes, but he spakes English after a fashion, and has brought this letter for you. The cratur scarce looks like a human being, and I misdoubt me whether you had better let him in."

"Nonsense, Tim," Charlie said, opening the letter; "it's the moonshee we are expecting, from Madras. He has come to teach us the native language."

"Moonshine, is it! By jabers, and it's a mighty poor compliment to the moon to call him so. And is it the language you're going to larn now? Shure, Mr. Charles, I wouldn't demane myself by larning the lingo of these black hathens. Isn't for them to larn the English, and mighty pleased they ought to be, to get themselves to spake like Christians."

"But who's going to teach them, Tim?"

"Oh, they larn fast enough," said Tim. "You've only got to point to a bottle of water, or to the fire, or whatever else you want, and swear at them, and they understand directly. I've tried it myself, over and over again."

"There, Tim, it's no use standing talking any longer. Bring in the moonshee."

From that moment, the little man had his permanent post in a corner of the boys' room; and, when they were not on duty, they were constantly engaged in studying the language, writing down the names of every object they came across and getting it by heart, and learning every sentence, question, and answer which occurred to them as likely to be useful.

As for Tim, he quite lost patience at this devotion to study on the part of his master; who, he declared to his comrades, went on just as if he intended to become a nigger and a hathen himself.

"It's just awful to hear him, Corporal M'Bean, jabbering away in that foreign talk, with that little black monkey moonshine. The little cratur a-twisting his shrivelled fingers about, that looks as if the bones were coming through the skin. I wonder what the good father at Blarney, where I come from, you know, Corporal, would say to sich goings on. Faith, then, and if he were here, I'd buy a bottle of holy water, and sprinkle it over the little hathen. I suspict he'd fly straight up the chimney, when it touched him."

"My opinion of you, Tim Kelly," the corporal, who was a grave Scotchman, said; "is that you're just a fule. Your master is a brave young gentleman, and is a deal more sensible than most of them, who spend all their time in drinking wine and playing cards. A knowledge of the language is most useful. What would you do, yourself, if you were to marry a native woman, and couldn't speak to her afterwards."

"The saints defind us!" Tim exclaimed; "and what put such an idea in yer head, Corporal? It's nayther more nor less than an insult to suppose that I, a dacent boy, and brought up under the teaching of Father O'Shea, should marry a hathen black woman; and if you weren't my suparior officer, corporal, I'd tach ye better manners."

Fortunately, at this moment Charlie's voice was heard, shouting for his servant; and Tim was therefore saved from the breach of the peace, which his indignation showed that he meditated.

December passed quietly; and then, in January, 1752, an insurrection planned by Dupleix broke out. The governor of Pondicherry had been suffering keenly from disappointments; which, as time went on, and his entreaties and commands to Law to attack Trichinopoli were answered only by excuses and reasons for delay, grew to despair; and he resolved upon making another effort to occupy the attention of the man in whom he already recognized a great rival, and to prevent his taking steps for the relief of Trichinopoli. Law had over and over again assured him that, in the course of a very few weeks, that place would be driven by famine to surrender; and, as soon as Clive arrived at Fort Saint David, Dupleix set about taking steps which would again necessitate his return to the north, and so give to Law the time which he asked for.

Supplies of money were sent to Riza Sahib, together with four hundred French soldiers. These marched suddenly upon Punemalli and captured it, seized again the fortified temple of Conjeveram, and from this point threatened both Madras and Arcot.

Had this force possessed an active and determined commander, it could undoubtedly have carried out Dupleix's instructions, captured Madras, and inflicted a terrible blow upon the English. Fortunately, it had no such head. It marched indeed against Madras, plundered and burnt the factories, levied contributions, and obtained possession of everything but the fort; where the civilians, and the few men who constituted the garrison, daily expected to be attacked, in which case the place must have fallen. This, however, the enemy never even attempted, contenting themselves with ravaging the place outside the walls of the fort.

The little garrison of Arcot, two hundred men in all, were astonished at the news; that the province, which they had thought completely conquered, was again in flames; that the road to Madras was cut, by the occupation of Conjeveram by the French; and that Madras itself was, save the fort, in the hands of the enemy. The fort itself, they knew, might easily be taken, as they were aware that it was defended by only eighty men.

The change in the position was at once manifest, in the altered attitude of the fickle population. The main body of the inhabitants of Southern India were Hindoos, who had for centuries been ruled by foreign masters. The Mohammedans from the north had been their conquerors, and the countless wars which had taken place, to them signified merely whether one family or another were to reign over them. The sole desire was for peace and protection; and they, therefore, ever inclined towards the side which seemed strongest. Their sympathies were no stronger with their Mohammedan rulers than with the French or English, and they only hoped that whatever power was strongest might conquer; and that, after the hostilities were over, their daily work might be conducted in peace, and their property and possessions be enjoyed in security. The capture and defence of Arcot, and the battle of Arni, had brought them to regard the English as their final victors; and the signs of deep and even servile respect, which greeted the conquerors wherever they went, and which absolutely disgusted Charlie Marryat and his friend, were really sincere marks of the welcome to masters who seemed able and willing to maintain their rule over them.

With the news of the successes of Riza Sahib, all this changed. The natives no longer bent to the ground, as the English passed them in the streets. The country people, who had flocked in with their products to the markets, absented themselves altogether, and the whole population prepared to welcome the French as their new masters.

In the fort, the utmost vigilance was observed. The garrison laboured to mend the breaches, and complete the preparations for defence. Provisions were again stored up, and they awaited anxiously news from Clive.

That enterprising officer was at Fort Saint David, busy in making his preparations for a decisive campaign against the enemy round Trichinopoli, when the news of the rising reached him. He was expecting a considerable number of fresh troops from England, as it was in January that the majority of the reinforcements despatched by the Company arrived in India; and Mr. Saunders had written to Calcutta, begging that a hundred men might be sent thence. These were now, with the eighty men at Madras, and the two hundred at Arcot, all the force that could be at his disposal, for at Fort Saint David there was not a single available man.

With all the efforts that Clive, aided by the authorities, could make, it was not until the middle of February that he had completed his arrangements. On the 9th, the hundred men arrived from Bengal, and, without the loss of a day, Clive started from Madras to form a junction with the garrison from Arcot, who, leaving only a small force to hold the fort, had moved down to meet him.

Chapter 9: The Battle Of Kavaripak

The troops from Arcot had already moved some distance on their way to Madras, and Clive, therefore, with the new levies, joined them on the day after his leaving Madras. The French and Riza Sahib let slip the opportunity of attacking these bodies, before they united. They were well aware of their movements, and had resolved upon tactics, calculated in the first place to puzzle the English commander, to wear out his troops, and to enable them finally to surprise and take him entirely at a disadvantage.

The junction with the Arcot garrison raised the force under Clive's orders to three hundred and eighty English, thirteen hundred Sepoys, and six field guns, while the enemy at Vendalur, a place twenty-five miles south of Madras, where they had a fortified camp, had four hundred French troops, two thousand Sepoys, two thousand five hundred cavalry, and twelve guns.

Hoping to surprise them there, Clive marched all night. When the force approached the town they heard that the enemy had disappeared, and that they had started, apparently, in several directions.

The force was halted for a few hours, and then the news was obtained that the enemy had united their forces at Conjeveram, and that they had marched away from that place in a westerly direction. Doubting not that they were about to attack Arcot, which, weakened by the departure of the greater portion of its garrison, would be in no position to defend itself against a sudden coup de main by a strong force, Clive set his troops again in motion. The French, indeed, had already bribed some of the native soldiers within the fort; who were to reply to a signal made without, if they were in a position to open the gates. However, by good fortune their treachery had been discovered, and when the French arrived they received no reply to their signal; and as Arcot would be sure to fall if they defeated Clive, they marched away without attacking it, to take up the position which they had agreed upon beforehand.

It was at nine in the evening that Clive, at Vendalur, obtained intelligence that the enemy had assembled at Conjeveram. The troops had already marched twenty-five miles, but they had had a rest of five hours, and Clive started with them at once, and reached Conjeveram, twenty miles distant, at four in the morning. Finding that the enemy had again disappeared, he ordered the troops to halt for a few hours. They had already marched forty-five miles in twenty-four hours, a great feat when it is remembered that only the Arcot garrison were in any way accustomed to fatigue, the others being newly raised levies. The greater portion of the Sepoys had been enlisted within the fortnight preceding.

"I don't know, Mr. Marryat, whether the French call this fighting. I call it playing hide and seek," Tim Kelly said. "Shure we've bin marching, with only a halt of two or three hours, since yisterday morning; and my poor feet are that sore that I daren't take my boots off me, for I'm shure I'd never git 'em on agin. If the French want to fight us, why don't they do it square and honest, not be racing and chasing about like a lot of wild sheep."

"Have you seen the moonshee, Tim? He is with the baggage."

"Shure and I saw him," Tim said. "The cart come in just now, and there was he, perched up on the top of it like a dried monkey. You don't want him tonight, shure, yer honor."

"Oh no, I don't want him, Tim. You'd better go now, and get to sleep at once, if you can. We may be off again, at any minute."

Arcot is twenty-seven miles from Conjeveram. Clive felt certain that the enemy had gone on to that place; but, anxious as he was for its safety, it was absolutely necessary that the troops should have a rest before starting on such a march. They were, therefore, allowed to rest until twelve o'clock; when, refreshed by their eight hours' halt and breakfast, they started upon their long march towards Arcot, making sure that they should not find the enemy until they reached that place.

Had Clive possessed a body of cavalry, however small, he would have been able to scour the country, and to make himself acquainted with the real position of the French. Cavalry are to a general what eyes are to a man, and without these he is liable to tumble into a pitfall. Such was the case on the present occasion. Having no doubt that the enemy were engaged in attacking Arcot, the troops were plodding along carelessly and in loose order; when, to their astonishment, after a sixteen-mile march, as they approached the town of Kavaripak just as the sun was setting, a fire of artillery opened upon them from a grove upon the right of the road, but two hundred and fifty yards distant. Nothing is more confusing than a surprise of this kind, especially to young troops, and when no enemy is thought to be near.

The French general's plans had been well laid. He had reached Kavaripak that morning, and allowed his troops to rest all day, and he expected to obtain an easy victory over the tired men who would, unsuspicious of danger, be pressing on to the relief of Arcot. So far his calculations had been correct, and the English marched unsuspiciously into the trap laid for them.

The twelve French guns were placed in a grove, round whose sides, facing the point from which Clive was approaching, ran a deep ditch with a high bank forming a regular battery. A body of French infantry were placed in support of the guns, with some Sepoys in reserve behind the grove. Parallel with the road on the left ran a deep watercourse, now empty, and in this the rest of the infantry were stationed, at a point near the town of Kavaripak, and about a quarter of a mile further back than the grove. On either side of this watercourse the enemy had placed his powerful cavalry force.

For a moment, when the guns opened, there was confusion and panic among the British troops. Clive, however, ever cool and confident in danger, and well seconded by his officers, rallied them at once. The position was one of extreme danger. It was possible, indeed, to retreat, but in the face of an enemy superior in infantry and guns, and possessing so powerful a body of cavalry, the operation would have been a very dangerous one. Even if accomplished, it would entail an immense loss of morale and prestige to his troops. Hitherto, under his leading, they had been always successful; and a belief in his own superiority adds immensely to the fighting power of a soldier. Even should the remnant of the force fight its way back to Madras, the campaign would have been a lost one, and all hope of saving Trichinopoli would have been at an end.

"Steady, lads, steady," he shouted. "Form up quietly and steadily. We have beaten the enemy before, you know, and we will do so again."

While the troops, in spite of the artillery fire, fell into line, Clive rapidly surveyed the ground. He saw the enemy's infantry advancing up the watercourse, and so sheltered by it as to be out of the fire of his troops. He saw their cavalry sweeping down on the other side of the watercourse, menacing his left and threatening his baggage. The guns were at once brought up from the rear, but before these arrived the men were falling fast.

Three of the guns he placed to answer the French battery, two of them he hurried to his left, with a small body of English and two hundred Sepoys, to check the advance of the enemy's cavalry. The main body of his infantry he ordered into the watercourse, which afforded them a shelter from the enemy's artillery. The baggage carts and baggage he sent half a mile to the rear, under the protection of forty Sepoys and a gun.

While this was being done the enemy's fire was continuing, but his infantry advanced but slowly, and had not reached a point abreast of the grove when the British force in the watercourse met them. It would not seem to be a very important matter, at what point in the watercourse the infantry of the two opposing parties came into collision, but matters apparently trifling in themselves often decide the fate of battles; and, in fact, had the French artillery retained their fire until their infantry were abreast of the grove, the battle of Kavaripak would have been won by them, and the British power in Southern India would have been destroyed.

Clive moved confidently and resolutely among his men, keeping up their courage by cheerful words, and he was well seconded by his officers.

"Now, lads," Charlie Marryat cried to the company of which he was in command, "stick to it. You ought to be very thankful to the French, for saving you the trouble of having to march another twelve miles before giving you an opportunity of thrashing them."

The men laughed, and redoubled their fire on the French infantry, who were facing them in the watercourse at a distance of eighty yards. Neither party liked to charge. The French commander knew that he had only to hold his position to win the day. His guns were mowing down the English artillerymen. The English party on the left of the watercourse, with difficulty, held their own against the charges of his horsemen, and were rapidly dwindling away under the artillery fire, while other bodies of his cavalry had surrounded the baggage, and were attacking the little force told off to guard it. He knew, too, that any attempt the English might make to attack the battery, with its strong defences, must inevitably fail.

The situation was becoming desperate. It was now ten o'clock. The fight had gone on for four hours. No advantage had been gained, the men were losing confidence, and the position grew more and more desperate. Clive saw that there was but one chance of victory. The grove could not be carried in the front, but it was just possible that it might be open in the rear.

Choosing a sergeant who spoke the native language well, he bade him leave the party in the watercourse, and make his way round to the rear of the grove, and discover whether it was strongly guarded there or not. In twenty minutes, the sergeant returned with the news that there was no strong force there.

Clive at once took two hundred of his English infantry, the men who had fought at Arcot, and quietly left the watercourse and made his way round towards the rear of the grove. Before he had gone far the main body in the watercourse, surprised at the sudden withdrawal of the greater portion of the English force, and missing the presence of Clive himself, began to lose heart. They no longer replied energetically to the fire of the French infantry. A movement of retreat began, the fire ceased, and in a minute or two they would have broken in flight.

At this moment, Clive returned. As he moved forward, he had marked the dying away of the English fire, and guessing what had happened, had given over the command of the column to Lieutenant Keene, the senior officer, and hurried back to the watercourse. He arrived there just as the troops had commenced to run away.

Throwing himself among them, with shouts and exhortations, he succeeded in arresting their flight; and, by assurances that the battle was as good as won elsewhere, and that they had only to hold their ground for a few minutes longer to ensure victory, he got them to advance to their former position; and to reopen fire on the French, who had, fortunately, remained inactive instead of advancing and taking advantage of the cessation of the English fire.

In the meantime, Lieutenant Keene led his detachment, making a long circuit, to a point three hundred yards immediately behind the grove. He then sent forward one of his officers, Ensign Symmonds, who spoke French perfectly, to reconnoitre the grove. Symmonds had proceeded but a little way, when he came upon a large number of French Sepoys, who were covering the rear of the grove; but who, as their services were not required, were sheltering themselves there from the random bullets which were flying about. They at once challenged; but Symmonds answering them in French they, being unable to see his uniform in the darkness, and supposing him to be a French officer, allowed him to advance.

He passed boldly forward into the grove. He proceeded nearly through it, until he came within sight of the guns, which were still keeping up their fire upon those of the English; while a hundred French infantry, who were in support, were all occupied in watching what was going on in front of them. Symmonds returned to the detachment, by a path to the right of that by which he had entered, and passed out without seeing a soul.

Lieutenant Keene gave the word to advance and, following the guidance of Mr. Symmonds, entered the grove. He advanced, unobserved, until within thirty yards of the enemy. Here he halted, and poured a volley into them.

The effect was instantaneous. Many of the French fell, and the rest, astounded at this sudden and unexpected attack, left their guns and fled. Sixty of them rushed for shelter into a building at the end of the grove, where the English surrounded them and forced them to surrender.

By this sudden stroke, the battle of Kavaripak was won. The sound of the musketry fire, and the immediate cessation of that of the enemy's guns, told Clive that the grove was captured. A few minutes later fugitives, arriving from the grove, informed the commander of the enemy's main body of infantry of the misfortune which had befallen them. The French fire at once ceased, and the troops withdrew.

In the darkness, it was impossible for Clive to attempt a pursuit. He was in ignorance of the direction the enemy had taken; his troops had already marched sixty miles in two days; and he would, moreover, have been exposed to sudden dashes of the enemy's cavalry. Clive, therefore, united his troops, joined his baggage, which the little guard had gallantly defended against the attacks of the enemy's cavalry, and waited for morning.

At daybreak, not an enemy was to be seen. Fifty Frenchmen lay dead on the field, and sixty were captives. Three hundred French Sepoys had fallen. There were, besides, many wounded. The enemy's artillery had been all captured. The British loss was forty English and thirty Sepoys killed, and a great number of both wounded.

The moral effect of the victory was immense. It was the first time that French and English soldiers had fought in the field against each other, in India. The French had proved to the natives that they were enormously their superiors in fighting power. Hitherto the English had not done so. The defence of Arcot had proved that they could fight behind walls; but the natives had, themselves, many examples of gallant defences of this kind. The English troops, under Gingen and Cope, had suffered themselves to be cooped up in Trichinopoli, and had not struck a blow in its defence.

At Kavaripak, the natives discovered that the English could fight as well, or better than the French. The latter were somewhat stronger, numerically, than their rivals. They had double the force of artillery, were half as strong again in Sepoys, and had two thousand five hundred cavalry, while the English had not a single horseman. They had all the advantages of surprise and position; and yet, they had been entirely defeated.

Thenceforth the natives of India regarded the English as a people to be feared and respected; and, for the first time, considered their ultimate triumph over the French to be a possibility. As the policy of the native princes had ever been to side with the strongest, the advantage thus gained to the English cause, by the victory of Kavaripak, was enormous.

On the following day, the English took possession of the fort of Kavaripak, and marched to Arcot. Scarcely had they arrived there when Clive received a despatch from Fort Saint David; ordering him to return there at once, with all his troops; to march to the relief of Trichinopoli, where the garrison was reported to be in the sorest straits, from want of provisions.

The force reached Fort Saint David on the 11th of March. Here preparations were hurried forward for the advance to Trichinopoli; and, in three days, Clive was ready to start. Just as he was about to set out, a ship arrived from England, having on board some more troops, together with Major Lawrence and several officers, some of whom were captains senior to Clive.