The Presidency of Madras and the Struggle with France

The presidency of Madras, when they fitted out the expedition to Bengal, anticipated its return before the impending rupture between Great Britain and France should be actually declared, or at least in time to enable them to ward off the dangers with which they would in consequence be threatened. In this expectation, owing to the course of events in Bengal, they were disappointed. Clive, convinced that he could not serve the interests of the Company so effectually as by overthrowing Siraj-ud-daulah, retained all the troops which he had taken with him, and ventured, on his own responsibility, to disregard the orders repeatedly sent him to return. Thus weakened by the absence of a large part of their forces, the presidency of Madras remained on the defensive. The French, in the meantime, were not disposed to avail themselves of any superiority which they possessed. They expected the arrival of a powerful armament, and deemed it imprudent, while they had the prospect of striking a final blow at all the British settlements in India, to risk any loss, by engaging in partial operations. A kind of neutrality had hence been established between the companies, and it almost seemed as if the declaration of hostilities between their respective governments had only made them desirous of remaining at peace. This neutrality, however, being only a temporizing expedient, the result not of choice but of accidental circumstances, was necessarily of short duration. It was soon found that neither party could safely remain on the defensive. The Nabob of Arcot, though now nominally in possession of almost the whole territory which he claimed under that title, was unable to derive any regular revenue from it; and his British allies, who had obtained large tracts of land in assignment of the debts which they had incurred in his behalf, were unable to make them effectual for payment. Two of the nabob’s brothers, one in the north and another in the south, were in open revolt; and numerous tributaries, influenced by their example, plainly intimated their determination not to pay unless under compulsion. The necessity of an immediate effort being thus made apparent, the presidency ordered Captain Calliaud, commanding officer at Trichinopoly, to proceed southward with all his disposable troops, to effect the subjugation and settlement of Madura and Tinnevelly, and sent a detachment northward to Nellore. Neither expedition proved successful. In an attempt to storm Nellore a serious repulse was received; and the siege of Madura was suddenly abandoned, in order to provide for the safety of Trichinopoly, against which the French, when made aware of the defenceless state in which it had been left, had secretly sent an overpowering force, collected on the spur of the moment by emptying Pondicherry and other places of their garrisons. The measure was dexterously planned, but very indifferently executed, and Trichinopoly was saved by Calliaud, who, by making his way into the city after the enemy supposed that they had rendered access to it impossible, performed the only memorable achievement in this desultory warfare, which, after its immediate objects had failed, continued to be carried on by both sides, as if in mere wantonness, with no advantage to themselves and infinite misery to the inhabitants. The result was, on the whole, unfavourable to the presidency, who, while their sources of revenue were dried up by the devastation of the country which ought to have furnished them, were constrained to purchase the departure of the Marathas, who had made an incursion into the Carnatic, and demanded a large sum as the arrears of chaut.

On the 24th of February, 1758, Admiral Pococke, who had succeeded Admiral Watson, arrived at Madras, with the ships of war from Bengal; and Admiral Stevens, exactly a month after, with four ships of the line from Bombay. This formidable squadron sailed on the 17th of April to the southward, but the hopes which it had raised were suddenly damped on the 28th, when a squadron of twelve sail, evidently French, was descried making for the road of Fort St. David. It was commanded by Count d’Ache, and had on board Count Lally, an officer of Irish descent, who, having acquired distinction in European campaigns, had been sent out with the most extensive powers as governor-general of all the French settlements in India. He was accompanied by the regiment of his name, which mustered 1,080 strong, a small number of royal artillery, and many officers of distinction. This armament, which had long been expected, had been sent out by the French government, with a strong unhesitating conviction that, with the other troops already collected at Pondicherry, it was destined to achieve a series of triumphs. In none was this conviction stronger than in Lally himself, who was so impatient to commence operations, that leaving the rest of his ships to anchor in the vicinity of the Fort, he hastened off to Pondicherry to proclaim his commission, and urge the immediate departure of the troops there, with all the necessary requisites for carrying on the siege. This precipitancy displayed far more energy than wisdom, and raised up a host of obstacles which might easily have been avoided by acting with more calmness and deliberation. He had no doubt a right to expect that the most essential preparations had been already made, and that at all events no difficulty would be found in procuring the means of transport. Great therefore was his indignation on learning that everything remained to be provided. In these circumstances prudence counselled delay; but his resolution had been formed, and difficulties, so far from changing it, would only furnish an opportunity of acquiring new distinction by surmounting them. On the very evening of his arrival 2,000 men, half of them Europeans and half sepoys, were on the march from Pondicherry for Fort St. David, under the command of Count d’Estaing. It had not even been deemed necessary to obtain exact knowledge of the roads or furnish provisions. The consequence was, that they went astray, and, after a night of hardship and fatigue, arrived in the morning in a state bordering on starvation. The following day, when other troops were despatched, and with them artillery, stores, and baggage, blunders still more serious were committed. Without paying the least regard to the feelings and prejudices of the natives, Lally issued a general order, compelling all, without distinction of rank or caste, to supply the want of bullocks and other beasts of burden, by becoming themselves drawers and carriers. When this order was issued, the governor and council, aware of the general ferment which it would produce, endeavoured to prevent the execution, but Lally, ridiculing their fears, and even impugning their motives, persisted in his own reckless course. He was consequently regarded with abhorrence by the native population, who took their revenge by deserting on every opportunity, and rendering no service which they could possibly avoid.

While Lally was thus blundering and raising up obstacles to his own success, the fate of his whole armament was hanging in a trembling balance. The British squadron, after reaching the north extremity of Ceylon, steered again for the coast of India, and arrived off Nagapatam on the very day when the French squadron was entering the road of Fort St. David. Continuing its course northward along the shore, it no sooner came in sight of the enemy than Admiral Pococke threw out the signal for chase. Count d’Ache did not decline the challenge thus thrown out to him; and when come up with, about noon of the 29th, was waiting, with his ships in line of battle. His squadron, diminished by a ship and a frigate which had gone with Lally to Pondicherry, still amounted to nine sail. The British squadron consisted of only seven sail. The engagement proved indecisive. After it had lasted an hour and a half the French sheered off, apparently not for flight, but to reassemble their ships, which had become scattered, and resume the action. The British, very much damaged in their rigging, were unable and perhaps had no great inclination to follow. The combatants thus parted by a kind of mutual consent. The loss of the French during the action was the more severe, and afterwards it was considerably increased, one of their ships, the Bien Aime, of fifty-eight guns, having run ashore, in consequence of cutting her cable, and become a total wreck.

It was six days after the action before Count d’Ache reached Pondicherry. The troops he had with him were immediately landed and marched off to Fort St. David. As the difficulty of land transport had been greatly increased by Lally’s rash and improvident proceedings, the artillery and ammunition were sent by sea, and put ashore near the mouth of the Penaar.

Everything being now provided for the siege, operations commenced on the 14th of May, by the erection of a battery in the vicinity of Cuddalore, and were continued with considerable vigour. The garrison consisted of 619 Europeans, of whom 286 were effective, and 250 seamen taken from two frigates which had been run ashore when the French squadron first made its appearance, and of 1,600 sepoys, lascars, and topasses. Such a force placed within a fortification which, by means of additions and improvements, had been rendered so complete that want of space was its only serious defect, should have been able to make a protracted defence. It was not so. Instead of acting on a kind of regular plan, the commander of the fort seems to have contented himself with allowing the garrison, as Mr. Orme expresses it, “to lavish away their fire night and day on everything they saw, heard, or suspected.” In this way they sustained more injury than they inflicted, for “twenty of the carriages of their own guns were disabled and the works themselves shaken.” The besiegers were thus permitted to proceed with little interruption. By the 30th they had advanced their trenches to within 200 yards of the glacis, and from twenty-one pieces of cannon and thirteen mortars kept up an incessant fire, with a constantly increasing superiority over that of the defenders, who were now beginning to feel the want of the ammunition of which they had been so lavish at the commencement, when no good purpose could be gained by it. It was now evident that the place must fall if not speedily relieved. Of this there was still some hope. Admiral Pococke with his squadron was known to be on the coast; and as he had already gained some advantage over his opponent, it was naturally expected that he would not allow Fort St. David to fall without a strenuous effort to save it. He did indeed make this effort; and after having been driven northward as far as Sadrass, had worked his way back, but with so much difficulty, that he only gained four leagues in two days. On the 28th he described the French fleet lying in the road to Pondicherry; but Count d’Ache’s courage had cooled after his previous encounter, and instead of accepting the challenge to fight, he resolved, with the sanction of his captains and the governor and council, to keep his ships moored near the shore under the protection of the batteries. Lally, hearing of this resolution and ashamed of it, hastened from the siege, bringing with him a detachment of 400 Europeans and as many sepoys, whom he tendered to Count d’Ache to serve on board the fleet. The want of men, in consequence of the great number of sick who were on shore in the hospital, had been the only excuse for not risking an engagement, and as this obstacle was now removed by Lally’s offer, the previous pusillanimous resolution was abandoned. Count d’Ache, however, though thus compelled to quit the protection of the shore, had no intention to engage if he could possibly avoid it; and therefore, taking advantage of the wind, steered directly for Fort St. David, while Admiral Pococke had the mortification of only seeing him depart without being able to pursue. One of his ships, the Cumberland, sailed so badly that she operated as a continual drag upon the others; and the whole squadron, losing instead of gaining ground, was obliged to give way and return northward to Alamparva. When the garrison, after being buoyed with the hope of relief, saw Count d’Ache’s squadron enter the road, they at once abandoned all idea of further resistance, and on the 2nd of June hung out a flag of truce. The capitulation, in such terms as the victors chose to dictate, was soon arranged, and the French took possession of the place. The first use they made of their conquest was to raze the fortifications to the ground. Their strength was far greater than they had imagined, and they had good reason to congratulate themselves on their good fortune in having met with defenders so unskillful and pusillanimous, that all their lavish firing killed only twenty men. The fall of Fort St. David was immediately followed by that of Devicotta, which was abandoned by its garrison the moment the enemy were seen approaching it.

Lally, elated above measure with these successes, set off for Pondicherry to celebrate a Te Deum, and fix upon the scene of his next conquest. On this subject there could have been no room for doubt. He had spared no means to increase his force, having for that purpose bared all the forts of their garrisons, recalled the detachment which had so long kept Trichinopoly in a state of siege by occupying the island of Seringham, and in spite of remonstrance voluntarily relinquished all the advantages which Bussy had gained, by peremptorily withdrawing him and all his troops from the Deccan, at the very time when French ascendency there, after being well nigh overthrown, had again been triumphantly established. Nothing could justify Lally in the adoption of such measures but the determination to strike one great and decisive blow at British interests in the Carnatic, and hence the universal belief was that his next attempt would be to capture Madras. That presidency was, of course, in great alarm, and busily engaged in preparing against a siege deemed all but certain, when the cheering intelligence arrived that Lally and his army had set out in an opposite direction.

After celebrating his triumph in Pondicherry, Lally turned his attention to the state of the finances, and learned that the treasury was almost empty. The fact not only disappointed him, but aroused his indignation, for he strongly suspected that the greater part of the officials were engaged in systematic embezzlement, enriching themselves by plundering their employers. To a man of his warm temperament suspicion was equivalent to proof; and he was unsparing in his sarcasms against the governor and council. An open quarrel ensued, and much time was wasted in unprofitable bickering. Meanwhile the want of money only became more pressing. The troops were clamouring for their arrears of pay. How were they to be discharged, and how could any enterprise of importance be undertaken with an exhausted treasury? In this perplexity an expedient which it was thought might meet the necessities of the case was suggested. In 1751 the King of Tanjore, when attacked by Chanda Sahib, had purchased present relief by granting him a bond for 5,600,000 rupees. This bond was in possession of the government of Pondicherry. Why not attempt to make it available? The same kind of pressure which had extorted it from the king, might be successfully employed to extort payment. The circumstances were peculiarly favourable. Not only were the British, to whom alone the king could look for assistance, unable to furnish it, but in the fort of St. David a prisoner had been found whose presence with the army might be made to work effectually upon his fears. This prisoner was Gatika, the uncle of a claimant to the Tanjore throne, whose pretensions the Madras presidency, tempted by the offer of Devicotta, and other advantages, rashly undertook to support in 1749. The proceedings, which were disgraceful to the presidency, have already been detailed; and it is therefore sufficient here to mention, as the result, that on finding it impossible to succeed by force, they suddenly changed sides, and made a sordid bargain, by which, in return for the cession of Devicotta by the reigning sovereign, they not only ceased to be the protectors, but engaged to become the jailers of the claimant. A timely warning of what was intended enabled him to escape; but his uncle, who managed for him, and was the more formidable rival of the two, was imprisoned in his stead. This was the hapless individual who was now to be a tool in the hands of the French to extort money, in the same manner as his nephew had been used by the British to extort the cession of a fort.

A roving expedition to Tanjore was thus, under the influence of pecuniary embarrassment, preferred to the siege of Madras; and Lally, leaving 600 men of his own regiment, with 200 sepoys, to form a camp of observation between Alamparva and Pondicherry, commenced his march southward with the remainder of the army. The improvidence manifested on his former expedition was repeated, as if the lesson of a dear-bought experience had been lost upon him; and the troops, not only unprovided with the means of transport, but destitute even of necessary food, were subjected to every species of privation, in passing through a country of singular difficulty. Before reaching Carrical, to which, as the place of rendezvous, the heavy artillery and cumbrous stores had been sent by sea, they had crossed no fewer than sixteen rivers, several of them accessible only after wading through extensive flats of mud and sand. They were thus employed during seven days, and in the whole seven had not once received a regular meal. The King of Tanjore, now that the enemy had arrived in his country, had little confidence in the army which had collected, not only among his own subjects, but by means of reinforcements drawn from various other quarters. The British, who should have been his principal resource, rather tantalized than assisted him, by sending him a detachment of 500 sepoys, with ten European artillerymen, and 300 Colleries, or native peons, drawn from the neighbouring polygars. But if the King of Tanjore was unable to cope with his enemy in the open field, he was at least his equal in diplomacy, and opened a negotiation, which, whatever might be its issue, would at least have the effect of procuring a respite. Lally was within six miles of the city of Tanjore, when he received a message from the king, proposing that a conference should be held with a view to arrange the terms of accommodation. Nothing was more anxiously desired by the French commander, who probably had begun to feel that the enterprise in which he was engaged was of very doubtful policy, inasmuch as it was only delaying the execution of other enterprises of far more importance. In order, therefore, that not a moment might be lost, he halted his army, and sent forward two deputies, a captain and a Jesuit, with full powers to treat. Their first demand was payment of the principal and interest of the bond granted to Chanda Sahib. The king made an offer so paltry that it might at once have been rejected. The deputies, however, deemed it necessary to report it to Lally, who sent them back with a demand strangely modified. Instead of the whole sum due under the bond, he would accept 1,000,000 rupees in money, 600 draught bullocks, and 10,000 lbs. weight of gunpowder. As the latter part of the demand would have acquainted the king with the fact that in the hurry of the expedition, this essential element of warfare had been very inadequately provided, the deputies, more prudent than their principal, had the good sense to suppress it. The king refused the bullocks, on the plausible pretext that his religion did not allow him to supply them; but seemed willing to increase the amount of his money offer. Lally, when made aware that the gunpowder had not been mentioned, disapproved of the prudential considerations which had influenced the deputies, and sent them back, not only to mention it, but to insist upon it as an indispensable part of the arrangement. The result was as had been anticipated. Monakji, who was still the king’s general, scouted the proposal as an insult, and the negotiation terminated abruptly.

Lally, now anxious to recover the time he had lost, immediately moved his camp, and took possession without opposition of the petta or suburbs, on the east side of the city wall. As yet, however, he was totally unprepared for attempting a siege. Only a few pieces of ordnance had accompanied the army, and those shipped for Carrical had not arrived. At last, when some heavy cannon were brought forward, the king became once more alarmed, and to prove his sincere desire for peace, made a payment of 50,000 rupees to account, on receiving the Jesuit and a lieutenant-colonel as hostages for repayment of this advance in the event of hostilities being renewed. On this footing negotiations were renewed, and seemed approaching to a successful result, when Lally, thinking he had obtained proof of the king’s insincerity, sent Dubois, the commissary of his army, to reproach him with his insincerity. At the same time he summoned a council of war, and having obtained from it a confirmation of his own opinion, that no reliance could be placed on professions of peace, and that the siege ought forthwith to be commenced, and prosecuted with the utmost vigour, wrote a letter denouncing vengeance on both town and country, and even threatening to carry off the king and his whole family as slaves to the Mauritius. This threat fixed the wavering resolution of the king, who announced his determination to defend himself to the last extremity. Captain Calliaud, who, though repeatedly applied to for assistance, had hesitated so long as negotiations with the French were pending, now sent from Trichinopoly a reinforcement consisting of 500 of his best sepoys, with two excellent sergeants and seventeen cannoneers.

After determining on the siege, Lally pushed on the necessary operations with great activity; and two breaching batteries, one of three and the other of two guns, were opened, on the 2nd of August, within 400 yards of the south wall. The effect fell far short of what had been expected. Five days’ firing produced a breach of only six feet wide, and yet exhausted so much of the imperfect supply of ammunition, that only 150 charges for the cannon were left. The supply of the troops was still more deficient, amounting to no more than twenty cartridges a man. Nor was this all. The Tanjorines, though very ineffective as regular troops, were excellent skirmishers, and had so much increased the difficulty of obtaining provisions, that not more than two days’ consumption remained. Rumours, too, of a naval engagement, in which Count d’Ache had been worsted, began to prevail, and the whole prospect looked so gloomy that Lally summoned a council of war, and submitted to them, as the only alternative, to assault forthwith or raise the siege. Of the twelve officers forming the council only two advocated the bolder course; the rest, with Lally at their head, decided against it. This decision could not long remain a secret. Monakji, on being made acquainted with it, immediately collected all his forces, and well nigh succeeded in surprising the French camp. He was repulsed with difficulty, and continued, after the retreat commenced, to follow with clouds of cavalry. The damage inflicted was not serious; and Lally, though burning with shame at his discomfiture, and at the loss of all his battering cannon and heavy baggage, had reason to congratulate himself and his army on an almost miraculous escape when they at length succeeded in reaching Carrical. Their anxiety, however, was not at an end, for the first sight which met them was the English squadron riding at anchor in the mouth of the river.

Admiral Pococke, after endeavouring in vain to reach Fort St. David in time to prevent its premature surrender, retraced his steps, and anchored in the Road of Madras. Here eight weeks were spent in making repairs and in obtaining necessary supplies, and the 25th of July arrived before the squadron was again ready to put to sea. Having sailed on that day it came in sight of Pondicherry on the 27th, and beheld Count d’Ache’s squadron at anchor. Before night both squadrons were out at sea, and seemed equally determined to make another trial of their strength and prowess. The weather, however, proved so unfavourable that they were tossed about, occasionally losing sight of each other, and were not able to meet, front to front, and form their lines, till the 2nd of August. The battle was fought not far from Carrical, and ended in the discomfiture of the French, who drew off after several of their ships had sustained serious damage. Their usual tactics saved them from pursuit. While the British aimed chiefly at the hulls of the vessels, they aimed chiefly at the masts and rigging, and thus crippled their opponents so effectually that though Admiral Pococke threw out the signal for a general chase it proved utterly fruitless. In less than ten minutes Count d’Ache and his ships were nearly out of cannon-shot. This distance was rapidly increased, and within four hours after the action ceased the hindmost French was five miles in advance of the foremost British ship. As it was hopeless to continue such a chase Admiral Pococke returned, and was anchored, as has been stated, in the mouth of the river, about three miles off Carrical, when Lally arrived from his ill-fated attempt on Tanjore.

Count d’Ache, now satisfied of the inability of his squadron to encounter that of the British, again anchored in the Road of Pondicherry, as close to the shore as the depth of water would allow. He was haunted with the idea that Admiral Pococke was remaining to windward solely with the view of seizing the first available opportunity to attack him. Having this conviction, he felt insecure even under the protection of the batteries of Pondicherry, and to the dismay of its inhabitants announced his determination to quit the coast, and make the best of his way to the Mauritius. Lally, startled by this intelligence, hastened to Pondicherry, and backed by the authority of a mixed council which he had summoned to discuss the matter, endeavoured, partly by persuasion and partly by menace, to induce Count d’Ache either to encounter the English squadron once more, or at least to defer his departure so long as it continued on the coast. He did not succeed. The French admiral, supported by all his captains, declared it impossible either to fight or remain, and after consenting, with much reluctance, to leave 500 of his sailors and marines to serve on shore, set sail with all his ships and turned his back on India.

Lally, while smarting under his recent failure at Tanjore, was not disposed to allow the whole, or even the larger portion of the blame to rest on his own shoulders, and found little difficulty in satisfying himself that if all had done their duty as well as he did his, the result would have been very different. In thus attempting his own vindication, he made rash and intemperate charges both against his own officers and the leading members of the government. He thus stirred up a new host of enemies who fought him with his own weapon. Charges of misconduct were freely bandied to and fro; and Lally had the mortification to know that throughout the settlement, and in its highest official circles, he was denounced as incompetent, and, what he must have felt to be still more insulting, stigmatized as a coward. The true way to answer his accusers was to wipe off the disgrace of Tanjore by some brilliant achievement, and his thoughts turned at once to Madras, the capture of which would at once recover all the fame which he had lost, and be the most important service which he could render to his country. He was perfectly aware, however, that the enterprise was by no means hopeful. During the time which he had lost in Tanjore the British presidency had been busily employed in improving their means of defence; and the departure of Count d’Ache leaving Admiral Pococke in complete possession of the sea, not only made it easy for him to pour in all necessary supplies, but would expose the besiegers to the danger of attacks and surprises, by the sudden landing of troops at their most vulnerable points. Then, as before, the treasury was exhausted; and it was again necessary, at the expense of considerable delay, to engage in subordinate operations merely for the purpose of endeavouring to replenish it. So discouraging were all these considerations that Lally speaks in his own Memoire as if he never contemplated the possibility of a successful siege, and expected to do nothing more than bombard the place, pillage the Black Town, and devastate the surrounding country.

Before setting out for Madras Lally had judged it expedient, for reasons already mentioned, to engage in several military operations of minor importance. Saubinet, an officer whom he had despatched with a detachment to the west, captured Trinomali on the 10th of September, and Carangoly a few days after. The Chevalier de Crillon, with another detachment, had recovered Trivatore. Lally himself, in the meantime, made a tour of inspection, visiting Alamparva, Gingi, and Chittapet, on the way to Wandiwash, which he had appointed as the place of rendezvous for all the separate detachments. Here he was joined by Bussy, who, in obedience to the peremptory orders which he had received, but with a full conviction of the pernicious consequences, had quitted the Deccan. He had brought his troops with him as far as Nellore, and then hastened forward with a few attendants, in the hopes that from his representations he might be permitted to return before the evils which he foresaw were actually realized. Lally, however, received his statements with indifference and incredulity, and attached Bussy permanently to his own army. It will shortly be seen that the French thus lost all the ascendency which they had established at the court of the Deccan, and exposed themselves to an attack which ultimately deprived them of the large and valuable territory which had been permanently ceded to them in the Northern Circars. While at Wandiwash, Lally sent Count d’Estaing with a detachment against Arcot. It proved unnecessary; for Raja Sahib, the late Chanda Sahib’s eldest son, whom the French had recently invested with the title of nabob, had already succeeded by bribery in corrupting the governor of his so-called capital. Lally, whom even the semblance of success now elated, considered the surrender of Arcot so important an event that he set out to receive it in person. After making his entry in a triumphal form, under the discharge of all the cannon, he endeavoured to magnify the event by causing it to be proclaimed, with much ostentation, in Pondicherry and all the other French garrisons. While thus gratifying his vanity he overlooked a capture which would have been of much more consequence. The fort of Chingleput, situated thirty-six miles south-west of Madras, was justly regarded as the key of the country on which that city depended for supplies of provisions and other necessaries. The possession of it would therefore have contributed greatly to the success of the meditated siege. Strange to say, both French and British had neglected it, the latter furnishing it only with a handful of troops, which might easily have been overpowered; while the former, who might have carried it by escalade, by open day, made no attempt to secure it. At length, when Lally awoke to a sense of its importance, he found that the presidency had anticipated him, and added greatly to the strength of the garrison. The capture, however, still seeming possible, he resolved to march against it with his whole force, and made application to the government of Pondicherry to furnish him with the funds necessary to put it in motion. The old answer was returned. The treasury was empty, and all the money which could be immediately sent amounted only to 10,000 rupees (£1,000). The roving expeditions in the Carnatic had not paid their own expenses, the power of borrowing was exhausted, and Lally saw no alternative but to abandon his design, place his troops in cantonments, and return to Pondicherry, where, as usual, he vented his indignation in sarcasms against its officials.

The siege of Madras being now regarded as a certainty, the presidency continued to increase their means of defence. They recalled Captain Calliaud with all the Europeans in garrison at Trichinopoly; and when Admiral Pococke, who was anchored in the road, found it necessary on the approach of the northern monsoon to sail for Bombay, obtained from him 100 men, forming the marines of the squadron. They had previously received a reinforcement by the Company’s ship Pitt, of fifty guns, which had left England with six others under convoy of two ships of the line, intended to join the admiral’s squadron. On board these ships was a regiment of the king’s troops, but of these the Pitt brought only 100 men, with their commanders, Colonel Draper and Major Brereton. Admiral Pococke had sailed on the 11th October with the full sanction of the presidency, who felt confident that no movement of importance would be made by the enemy till the rains should cease, and that they would at all events be able to make good the defence till the expected reinforcement of troops should arrive, or the change of monsoon should enable the squadron to return. Only a week after its departure, an unexpected arrival of treasure from the Mauritius, and of 100,000 rupees brought by M. Moracin, who had been left in charge of Bussy’s detachment, inspired Lally with new hopes. Accordingly, as the arrival of the rainy season was unusually delayed, he put his troops in motion. Chingleput was supposed to be his object; and as both parties were now fully alive to its importance, the presidency, alarmed for the safety of a supply of provisions which was then on the way to it, and on the arrival of which its ability to make a successful defence would greatly depend, resolved immediately to take the field, with 1,200 Europeans and 1,800 sepoys—forming by far the larger part of the Madras garrison. One-half of these troops, under Colonel Draper, advanced to Vandalur, about half-way between Madras and Chingleput; the other half, under command of Colonel Lawrence, halted at St. Thome, in a position which both covered Madras and kept open a communication with Draper. These movements defeated the enemy’s design on the convoy of provisions, and the safety of Chingleput was effectually secured. Lally’s disappointment was great. The danger of leaving such a place in his rear was sufficiently obvious, but he determined to run the risk, as he had only a choice of difficulties, and might, in attempting to take Chingleput, lose the only opportunity which he might have to lay siege to Madras.

On the 7th of December, Lally, now advancing with his whole army, halted at Vandalur. All the British troops which had taken the field were still stationed at St. Thome, under Colonel Lawrence. This able and cautious officer had no intention to risk a general action; and therefore, on penetrating the object of a feint which Lally employed with some dexterity, in the hope of placing himself between the city and the camp, he struck his tents and moved with his whole force to the Choultry Plain, lying about a mile and a half south-west of Fort St. George. Lally halted at St. Thome till the morning of the 12th, when he again moved and continued his approach. A smart cannonade was meanwhile kept up by both sides; but as Colonel Lawrence had no other object in removing without the walls than to gain time, he retired as the enemy approached, and marched with his main body into the fort, leaving only some detachments of Europeans and sepoys to guard the passes of the Black Town. As soon as the fort was thus occupied, the council of the presidency assembled and committed the defence of the siege to the governor, Mr. Pigott, with a recommendation to take the advice of Colonel Lawrence on all occasions. After all the outposts were called in, the whole force available for the defence of Madras amounted to 1,758 Europeans and 2,220 sepoys. Besides these, 300 horse, on whom little dependence could be placed, accompanied the nabob, who took refuge in the fort when the encampment at St. Thome was abandoned. The besiegers numbered 2,700 Europeans and 4,000 native troops. Of the former, 300 were cavalry, excellently mounted and disciplined, and, according to Orme, “the greatest number which had hitherto appeared together in India.”

The details of the siege possess little interest. The Black Town not admitting of effectual defence, the French gained easy possession of it, and immediately began to pillage. Among other things they discovered a large quantity of arrack, in which the common soldiers indulged so freely, that, according to the report of some spies, most of them were unfit for duty. This report suggested to Colonel Draper the probable success of a sally. He was authorized to attempt it, and about midnight marched out of the western ravelin at the head of 500 picked men. So careless were the enemy, that they reached a main street of the Black Town without being discovered, and would probably have gained a decided advantage had not the drummers of the detachment, who were mostly black boys, suddenly, of their own accord, beat the grenadiers’ march, and been followed by a general huzza from the whole line. Thus put upon their guard, the enemy succeeded, after a short struggle, in repairing the effects of the surprise, and very nearly cut off the retreat of the attacking party. Several blunders, perhaps unavoidable in the darkness, were committed on both sides, but the result on the whole was to give the besiegers an unfavourable impression of the courage and discipline of the garrison—an impression, indeed, so unfavourable, that one of the most experienced of the French officers proposed a general assault, and volunteered to lead the principal attack himself. The proposal, in which there was probably more bravado than seriousness, was not entertained, and the erection of batteries was immediately commenced. A few days’ experience within the fort satisfied the nabob, and he was at his own request, and greatly to the relief of the garrison, shipped with his family on board a Dutch vessel which was lying in the roads, and engaged to land him at Nagapatam, whence he might easily proceed to Trichinopoly.

The operations of the besiegers were much retarded by obstacles, partly the result of their own improvidence. For some time after they had invested the fort, the greater part of their artillery, which had been shipped at Alamparva, was at sea detained by contrary winds, and they were unable to open their fire before the 2nd of January, 1759. Meanwhile they were kept constantly on the alert both by sallies from the garrison and by detached parties, headed chiefly by Mahmud Yusuf, an excellent sepoy commander of Clive’s training, who intercepted several of their convoys, and devastated the country from which they derived their principal supplies. When the fire did open it was very ineffective. It proceeded only from two batteries, and was more than answered by the fort, the works of which remained uninjured, though the shells did considerable damage to the most conspicuous public buildings. So little were the besiegers satisfied with their first fire that they desisted, and allowed several days to elapse before they ventured to resume it. By this time the number of their guns had been increased, and the effect produced was proportionably greater. Not a few of the guns of the fort were disabled, and the trenches which had been commenced at a breastwork thrown up close to the sea, 580 yards from the covered way, had been gradually advanced by zigzags to the distance of fifty yards. On the 23rd of January, the fire of the besiegers began to slacken. The cause proved to be a want of ammunition, and they were waiting for a supply by a brigantine which had sailed from Pondicherry on the 14th, when intelligence was received which completely changed the prospects of besiegers and besieged. Admiral Pococke had arrived at Bombay on the 10th of December, where he had been joined by the two ships of the line from England; and on the 31st, six of the Company’s ships, having on board 600 men belonging to Colonel Draper’s regiment, had sailed under convoy of two frigates, and were on their way to Madras.

Lally was now aware that the assault, if it was to be made at all, could not be much longer delayed. Indeed, a general rumour prevailed that it was to take place on the very night when the intelligence was received, and in this belief the whole garrison remained at their posts under arms till morning. The rumour was groundless; and another fortnight was to elapse before a breach which had any appearance of being practicable could be effected. Meanwhile the siege continued, though the hopes of the besiegers were becoming fainter and fainter. On the 30th, a vessel was described to the southward. She proved to be the Company’s ship Shafiesbury, and was one of those expected from Bombay. As the worst sailor among them, she had been made the hospital ship, and left behind on the 7th of the month off the south of Ceylon. Shortly after, both wind and current began to favour her, and she was the first to reach the destined port. She added nothing to the strength of the garrison, for the only soldiers on board were thirty-six men, all sick; but she brought what was become even more necessary than men—thirty-seven chests of silver, and a large quantity of military stores. On the 7th of February a breach was made, which Lally, who was naturally sanguine and had become very impatient, thought practicable. His engineers and artillery officers on being consulted, were not only of a different opinion, but volunteered, though unasked, to add, that the continuance of the siege seemed to them only a sacrifice of the lives of men without any probability of success. Lally, though he combated this desponding view with much vivacity, could hardly avoid perceiving that there was only too great a probability of its eventually proving correct. During the first weeks of the siege, the soldiers had received only half-pay; latterly, their pay had been stopped altogether; and while the native troops were gradually thinning away by desertion, the Europeans were threatening to become mutinous. The gunpowder was nearly, and the bomb-shells wholly expended, and it was only with the utmost difficulty that a precarious and very inadequate supply of provisions could be procured. Amid all these discouraging circumstances, the garrison, already strong enough to make a successful defence, was in daily expectation of a powerful reinforcement. Nothing more was necessary than its arrival to compel an instant abandonment of the siege. The ships, long detained by contrary winds and currents, which had obliged them to make their voyage by proceeding along the east coast of the Bay of Bengal, at length, on the 16th of February, made their appearance in the north-east, steering directly for the road. “No words,” says Lally, “are adequate to describe the effect which they produced.” His resolution was at once taken, but as a cloak to it, he kept up his fire with more vivacity than before. The rumour again spread that the assault was about to be made, and the garrison were once more kept a whole night under arms. This apparent activity and resolution was only a feint; and when morning dawned the besiegers were seen in full march towards the Choultry Plain. So hurried was their departure, that Lally was unable to execute the resolution which he had formed from the first to reduce the Black Town to ashes, in the event of being compelled to raise the siege, and besides leaving cannon amounting in all to fifty-two pieces, he did not even attempt to transport his sick and wounded. It was not an oversight; for in the hospital where forty-two Europeans were lying, a letter was found, in which he recommended them to the governor’s care. It is needless to say that no such recommendation was required in order to secure the performance of a simple act of humanity. The whole loss of men by the garrison during the siege, including those who deserted or were taken prisoners, amounted to 579 Europeans and 762 sepoys; the loss of the besiegers is not accurately known, but it has been inferred from an intercepted letter of Lally, that it must have amounted in Europeans alone to at least 700. Considering the length of the siege—exactly two months from the day of breaking ground—the casualties were fewer than might have been expected; but both besiegers and besieged, while displaying abundance of skill and courage, were cautious not to expose themselves unnecessarily, and avoided serious loss by fighting for the most part under cover. Lally was permitted to continue his retreat with little interruption, and retired upon Arcot. There we must for the present leave him, and turn to another quarter which had become the scene of important events.

Shortly after Bussy had, by withdrawing with his troops from the Deccan, relinquished the fruit of all his distinguished achievements, the intrigues which had long been carried on at the court of Salabat Jung, and had repeatedly threatened to overthrow the French ascendency, broke out afresh, and even proceeded to open violence. The subahdar, who was a man of a feeble and indolent character, became a mere pageant in the hands of his brother Nizam Ali and Basalat Jung, who, though pursuing separate and opposite schemes of ambition, deemed it politic for a time to combine their interests. When Bussy announced his determination to depart, Salabat Jung could scarcely believe him serious; and when he went to take his leave, the timorous old subahdar, throwing aside all restraint, expressed himself in terms bordering on despair. He called Bussy the guardian angel of his life and fortune, and distinctly intimated that the day he lost him he would consider his own unhappy fate as sealed. He had good cause for his forebodings, for Nizam Ali, at first contented to use him as his tool, was bent on seizing his throne. In the course of nature he would have reached it without a crime, as he had been recognized as his heir to the subahship, but he was too impatient to wait, and secured the object of his ambition by first imprisoning and then murdering his brother. These, however, were only the ultimate results of Bussy’s recall; the more immediate results were manifested in the Northern Circars, where the French had for some time ruled as absolute masters. The importance of their possessions in this quarter was too well known to be overlooked even by Lally, with all his rashness; and therefore, in the letter by which Bussy was recalled, he enjoined him to leave, under an officer of the name of Conflans, as many troops as might be deemed necessary to insure their safety. Under ordinary circumstances the number left would have sufficed, but a danger not apprehended was at hand, and Conflans, whose military talents were of the lowest possible order, was totally unfit to contend against it.

Bussy, in answer to an earnest application from Siraj-ud-daulah, had determined to lead a force into Bengal by way of Orissa, and with that view had marched north to the sea-port town of Ganjam, where he was deterred from proceeding farther by intelligence of the capture of Chandernagore. In retracing his steps he was bent on retaliating the injury which French commerce had thus sustained, and led his troops against Vizagapatam, and the other factories which the English Company possessed within the limits of the Circars. They were devoid of any means of effectual resistance, and were all captured towards the end of 1757. The loss to the Company was serious, for in addition to the goods and other property pillaged from them, they were forcibly excluded from a profitable branch of trade, those of the factories situated on arms of the Godavari having been accustomed annually to provide 700 bales of excellent cloths at a cheap rate for the home market. The recovery of the factories wrested from them was of course earnestly desired by the Company; and a raja of the name of Anandaraj, whose territory lay in the provinces of Rajahmundry and Cicacole, doubtless aware of this desire, offered them his assistance. Deeply offended at some arrangements which Bussy had made, he no sooner heard of his recall than he took up arms, and by a sudden dash made himself master of Vizagapatam. His ambition now was to expel the French from all the provinces which had been ceded to them. The attempt was too formidable to be undertaken by himself single-handed, and he therefore made overtures to the presidency of Madras, offering to reinstate them in Vizagapatam as the first pledge of his sincere desire for their alliance. When, in consequence of the threatening aspect of affairs in the Carnatic, his offers were declined, he made the same proposal to the presidency of Bengal. It was voted delusive and chimerical by all the members except Clive, to whom, independent of its other merits, it had the special recommendation of promising to do good service to his former employers at Madras. He must have regretted his inability to return the troops which had only been temporarily intrusted to him for the expedition to Bengal, but some compensation might now be given by creating a diversion in their favour. The French, seeing their ceded provinces in danger, would be obliged either to submit to the loss of them, or to succour them by weakening themselves in the Carnatic. In either case a most important object would be gained. A delay of some months, however, was necessary. The proposal of Anandaraj was made in July, 1758, and no action could be taken upon it till the change of the monsoon in September or October. In the interval the question was naturally asked,—Why, if troops could be spared for an expedition to the Circars, should they not be sent at once to Madras, when the certainty of an approaching siege would enable them to give the direct aid so urgently required, instead of being employed merely to make a diversion? The question did not admit of a full, or at least of an ingenuous answer; and there is ground to suspect that the preference given to the Circars was dictated, not so much by a conviction of its being the best, as of its being the safest and most politic course. In the Circars the troops would still be subject to the authority of the Bengal presidency, and might be recalled should any emergency render it necessary; whereas, if they were sent to Madras, the authorities there might imitate the example which Clive himself had set, and easily find pretexts for refusing to allow them to return.

On these and similar prudential considerations, an expedition to the Circars to act in concert with Anandaraj having been determined, the command of it was given to Colonel Forde.

This officer, originally attached to Adlercron’s regiment in the king’s service, had quitted it on the invitation of the Bengal presidency to take the command of their army in the event of Clive’s departure. It will be seen that the wisdom of this choice was fully justified by the event. The expedition, consisting of 500 Europeans, 2,000 sepoys, and 100 lascars, with six brass six-pounders as field-pieces, six twenty-four pounders for battery, a howitzer, and an eight-inch mortar, left the river in the end of September, but owing to tempestuous weather did not reach Vizagapatam till the 20th of October. Anandaraj, who was encamped with his troops at the fort of Kassimcotah, about twenty miles to the westward, had already fulfilled his promise by delivering up Vizagapatam to a servant of the Company, who had been sent from Calcutta for that purpose, but at the same time declined to furnish any money. Forde’s military chest had been supplied with rupees and gold mohurs to an aggregate amount of about £14,000. It was evident that this sum would be speedily exhausted, and some time was spent in adjusting the terms on which the raja’s and Company’s forces were to co-operate. At length a regular treaty was drawn up, stipulating that all plunder should be equally divided—that the countries conquered should belong to the raja, the sea-ports and towns at the mouths of rivers, with the revenues of the districts annexed to them, being, however, reserved to the Company—that no proposal for the alienation or restitution of the territory and towns acquired should be entertained without the consent of both parties—and that the raja should furnish 50,000 rupees a month for the expenses of the army. Before this treaty was concluded, the united army moved so slowly that nearly a month was spent in advancing thirty miles beyond Kassimcotah. At length, however, the march was commenced in earnest, and on the 3rd of December Conflans, who had collected the French troops from all parts, was seen strongly posted about forty miles from Rajahmundry, on the highroad leading to it from Vizagapatam. His force consisted of 500 Europeans, with more cannon than they could use at once, and a large number of native troops, including 500 horse and 6,000 sepoys. Forde’s original force gained much in numbers but little in effective strength from his junction with the raja, whose whole army consisted of 500 paltry horse and 5,000 foot, most of them armed with pikes and bows. In fact, the only things of value which he furnished were four field-pieces, managed by forty Europeans whom he had collected.

Forde, having advanced to within four miles of the French camp, endeavoured to bring them to action by threatening to place himself in their rear, and thus cut off their communication with Rajahmundry. At last, by a series of manoeuvres, he succeeded in convincing Conflans that he was afraid of him, and was preparing to retreat. Nothing more was necessary to induce this incompetent commander to forego all the advantages of his position. Suddenly forming his line, he advanced to the attack in much haste and little order. The native troops on either side were quickly routed, and the decision of the day was left almost entirely to the Europeans. The confused manner in which Conflans had formed his line gave Forde a decided advantage. After a murderous fire which broke the French ranks, he drove them back in disorder, and before they had time to rally ordered a charge, which resulted in the capture of all their guns. After the flight had become general, a stand might still have been made at the camp, but those within it only waited till an assault was threatened, and then hastened off in the utmost confusion. Among the fugitives none was more conspicuous than Conflans, who rode with such speed that he measured the distance of forty miles before midnight, and sought refuge in Rajahmundry. Here he was joined by the wrecks of his army, but his fears still pursued him, and Forde, on arriving next day, found the place evacuated. In the fort a large quantity of ammunition and military stores was found.

This victory was gained on the 9th of December, and, had Anandaraj been less tardy in his movements, might have been immediately followed by more brilliant successes. He did not make his appearance till the 16th, and even then only employed himself in endeavouring to evade the payments to which he had bound himself by express stipulation. To meet his wishes the treaty was modified to the effect that all the money furnished by him should be considered as a loan, and that all the countries which might be conquered beyond the Godavari, with the exception of those belonging to the French, should be equally divided between him and the British. In the altercations caused by his shuffling conduct, more time was wasted than might have sufficed to accomplish all the objects of the expedition. The army could not be again put in motion till the 28th of January, 1759. Its destination was Masulipatam. The first town of importance on the road was Yalore, or more properly Ellore, the capital of a province of the same name, one of the four ceded to the French. The British reached it on the 6th of February; Anandaraj, who had been levying contributions on the right and left, did not make his appearance till the 18th, and after his arrival wove so many pretexts for delay that a new start could not be made before the 1st of March. Colonel Forde had now more cause than ever to regret the interminable delays to which he had been subject, for intelligence arrived that a new enemy was about to enter the field.

Conflans, after his defeat, had sent letters to Salabat Jung earnestly urging him to march with his army from Hyderabad to Masulipatam. There, by uniting their forces, they might both destroy the British troops and punish Anandaraj for his revolt. When the subhadar received these letters, he had begun to reap the bitter fruits of Bussy’s departure, and, indolent as he was, would gladly have made any exertion that might have the effect of inducing him to return. Such an event would have been most distasteful to Nizam Ali and the intriguers who were leagued with him. At the same time, they were anxious to take advantage of any change which might facilitate their recovery of the ceded provinces; and hence, after wavering as to the course to be pursued, became convinced that Salabat Jung might be allowed to march with his army to Masulipatam. Basalat Jung, entertaining views which made the friendship of the French desirable, brought a body of troops from his government of Adoni. After joining, near the Krishna, the united force mustered 15,000 horse and 20,000 foot. Forde had thus the alarming prospect of encountering, instead of one, three armies. A soldier of less nerve would have paused before committing himself to a contest with such fearful odds. His courage and decision, on the contrary, rose with the danger, and he determined to proceed. On the 6th of March, he came in sight of Masulipatam, and on the same day received the gratifying intelligence that Lally had been compelled to raise the siege of Madras.

Masulipatam consisted of a town and a fort. The town, a place of great extent, occupied a rising ground between two morasses, and was separated from the sea by a narrow belt of sandhills. The fort, situated south-east of the town, and communicating with it across one of the morasses by a broad causeway 2,000 yards in length, formed an irregular parallelogram 800 yards long from north to south, and about 600 yards broad. On the west, north, and east it was enclosed by the morass, and on the south by a sound partly formed by the discharge of an arm of the Krishna. The only hard ground within a mile of the fort, on the north and west, was formed by a few patches of sand which rose above the morass, but on the east the belt of sandhills was only about 800 yards distant.

Conflans with his troops was encamped in the town, and might easily, by throwing up an entrenchment on the hard ground between the morasses, have placed an insuperable barrier in the way of Forde’s approach. Instead of this he only waited till the invading force appeared, and then retreated by the causeway into the fort. Thus unobstructed, Forde took up his station on the sands to the north-east, while Anandaraj and the Zamindar of Narsipur, whom he had induced to join him, took possession of the town. The defences of the fort, though modernized by the French after they took possession of it in 1751, could not be considered strong. There was a ditch but no glacis; and the walls, composed of mud faced with brick, were on the west, north, and east flanked with eleven bastions. The south side was considered to be sufficiently defended by its position in the sound. The gateway was at the north-west angle, facing the causeway, 120 yards of which was converted into a caponiere, terminating in a strong ravelin.

The besiegers were far too few in number to make regular approaches to the fort, and determined to attack it by batteries erected on the sands on the east. This position, besides being the nearest to the walls, had the advantage of giving ready access to the shore, on which the battering artillery which had been brought by sea was to be landed. Ultimately the whole artillery employed in the attack consisted of four twenty-four, four eighteen, and two twelve-pounders, mounted on three detached batteries, without the communication of trenches. It was certainly a very bold, not to say a rash attempt, to take such a place by such feeble means. Not only should the fire of the fort have been able to overpower that which was brought against it, but the garrison outnumbered the attacking force. Conflans, however, was too ignorant and timid to turn his advantage to account, and remained cooped up within the walls, employing his means of defence so imperfectly, that during the eighteen days employed by the besiegers in erecting their batteries, the incessant fire from the fort killed only five men. While thus favoured by the pusillanimity of the garrison, Forde was beset with dangers. On the 19th of March, six days before the batteries were completed, the whole of his Europeans broke out in mutiny and threatened to march away if they were not immediately paid the prize money already due, and assured that if they took Masulipatam the whole of the booty would be delivered up to them. The former demand could not be complied with as the military chest was empty, and the latter was in direct opposition to the Company’s regulations, which gave only the half of the booty to the captors. No sooner was this disgraceful mutiny overcome by good temper and firmness, and the batteries opened, than news arrived that Basalat Jung with his army was only forty miles distant. Anandaraj and the zamindars with him were so alarmed, that in the course of the night, without a note of warning, they marched off with their whole forces, and could not be induced to return till it was made palpable to them that by their flight they were only rushing to destruction instead of escaping from it.

The batteries had kept up a hot fire from the 25th of March to the 6th April. On the evening of this day engineers reported that it could only be continued for two days more, as by that time the ammunition would be expended. What was now to be done? Salabat Jung, and a body of French troops who had been scouring the surrounding country, were now so near that the retreat by land was absolutely cut off. An escape by sea was still possible, but Forde rejected it as disgraceful, and determined to storm. With this view the fire was maintained with double vivacity on the 7th, and with so much effect, that three bastions, one near the centre, and the other two at the extremities of the eastern wall, were sufficiently ruined to admit of mounting. As the attack might thus be made from more places than one, the attention of the garrison was distracted; and hence, while two feints were practised, the real attack made at the bastion of the north-east angle met with comparatively little obstruction. It was committed to the European battalion, mustering in all, with the artillerymen, and thirty sailors taken from the Hardwicke, 346 rank and file, and 1,400 sepoys. One would willingly tell of the heroism of the assailants, but unfortunately very little was displayed, and success was not so much extorted by them as yielded by their opponents. When the storming party was about to move, Captain Callendar, appointed to lead them, was nowhere to be found. He afterwards appeared when the assault was understood to have succeeded, and met from a stray shot the death which he had in vain endeavoured to escape by cowardice. Even after the breach was mounted, and an advance made along the rampart, the cry of “A mine!” produced such a panic, that Captain Yorke, who was gallantly heading the storming party, found himself suddenly left with only two drummers; and on hastening back to the breach, found all his men in confusion, some even proposing to make their escape. Partly by threats, and partly by persuasion, having induced a small band to follow, the others regained their courage, and the capture was achieved. Conflans, indeed, gave little further trouble. Seated in his own house, he continued receiving and sending contradictory messages, and was no sooner summoned than he hastened to surrender. To his disgrace it must be added, that when the prisoners were counted they considerably outnumbered the captors. Among them were 500 Europeans. Within the fort were found 120 pieces of cannon, abundance of military stores, and much valuable plunder. The improbability of the assault is said to have been the principal cause of its success. The garrison had from the first treated the siege as a mockery; and being in expectation of a reinforcement from Pondicherry, were only waiting its arrival to sally out, and, in concert with the native army now at hand, inflict signal punishment on the British for their presumption. The overweening confidence of the French was better deserving of punishment, and received it.

The expedition to the Northern Circars produced more brilliant results than the most sanguine could have anticipated. Salabat Jung and his advisers, though surprised and vexed at the capture of Masulipatam, were not without the hopes of being able to recover it. With this view they advanced within nine miles, in hopes of meeting with the expected Pondicherry reinforcement. It did arrive; but the ships which brought it hastened away without landing the troops, on finding that the place had fallen. After this new disappointment Salabat Jung’s politics underwent a sudden change. Nizam Ali was openly plotting his overthrow; and as the French, on whom he had previously leaned, seemed now unable to assist him, he became anxious to provide for his own safety by exchanging the French for a British alliance. A negotiation opened with this view was speedily followed by a regular treaty, by which Salabat Jung ceded to the Company, in absolute property, Masulipatam and other districts in the Northern Circars, forming a continuous tract of territory which extended eighty miles along the coast, and twenty miles inland, and yielded an annual revenue of 400,000 rupees. He engaged, moreover, not to allow the French to have either troops or factories north of the Krishna, nor to seek or accept of assistance from them. In return for these important concessions the Company only promised not to assist or give protection to any of the subahdar’s enemies. He appears, however, to have expected more; and on finding that no direct assistance was to be given him against Nizam Ali, marched off in great displeasure.

Reverse after reverse had thus followed the French arms, and the Indian empire, which they at one time seemed on the point of establishing, was vanishing like a dream. After raising the siege of Madras, Lally, who had retired upon Arcot, endeavoured to maintain his ground by a kind of desultory warfare, in which little advantage was gained by either side. The number of troops still under his command might have justified active operations on a larger scale; but their spirit was bad, and his funds being again exhausted, he abruptly concluded the campaign by withdrawing from the field, and disposing his army in different cantonments. The main body, consisting of 1,100 Europeans, accompanied him to Pondicherry, where he determined to wait till a long expected reinforcement and squadron should arrive. The Madras presidency were also expecting reinforcements, and hence, though the season would have allowed the campaign to be protracted a little longer, they willingly availed themselves of the interval of repose which Lally had offered; and imitated his example by distributing their troops in a series of forts, which, commencing with Chingleput, near the Paliar, continued northwards, so as to form a kind of curve, having Madras for its centre. While both armies were thus in cantonments, the only activity displayed was in sending out small parties to make predatory incursions. In these the Company’s troops were particularly expert, and succeeded in driving off about 6,000 head of cattle.

On the 28th of April, 1759, Admiral Pococke arrived with his squadron from Bombay; but, in order to keep to the windward of Pondicherry, and watch the expected squadron of the French, did not come farther north than Nagapatam. In the end of June, three of the Company’s usual ships arrived from England. They brought 200 recruits, and the promise of a much more important reinforcement by other ships. This was the 84th regiment of 1,000 men, commanded by Coote, who was now its lieutenant-colonel, and had been appointed to the command of the Company’s troops in Bengal, with the option, however, of remaining with his regiment in the Carnatic, should his presence there seem more necessary. While general joy was diffused throughout the settlement by this intelligence, the governor and council were in possession of a secret which filled them with gloomy forebodings. The court of directors, dazzled by the brilliant prospects which had been opened in Bengal, imagined that from it alone sufficient funds might be obtained to supply the wants of all the presidencies; and under that impression had resolved to send no more treasure till 1760. Thus at the very time when everything announced an approaching campaign, from which the most decisive results were anticipated, the presidency, already almost overwhelmed with debt, were to be left to struggle unaided against a new and incalculable demand on their resources.

Admiral Pococke, misled by a Danish vessel which reported that a French fleet of twelve sail had arrived at Trincomali in Ceylon, immediately sailed for that port, and reached it on the 3rd of July without obtaining any tidings of French ships. In returning, he cruised for a short time off the north extremity of the island, and had the good fortune to meet with four of the Company’s ships having the first division of Coote’s regiment on board, as well as provisions and stores for the use of his own squadron. He therefore proceeded with the newly arrived ships to Nagapatam, and after transhipping the supplies, allowed them to continue their voyage to Madras, where the troops were landed and detained for the use of the presidency. On the 20th of August he again sailed for Trincomali, and on the 2nd of September descried the French fleet. It was commanded, as before, by Count d’Ache, and, having obtained a large reinforcement both of ships and men, numbered eleven sail of the line and three frigates. The British squadron consisted of nine sail of the line, a frigate, two Company ships, and a fire-ship. Both fleets immediately prepared for action; but their relative positions and the state of the weather did not allow them to come to close quarters till the 10th, when an engagement commenced which lasted two hours without producing any decisive result. The French, by retiring as they had done on the previous occasions, acknowledged themselves defeated, but sailed so much better than the British as to have no difficulty in eluding pursuit. The day after the battle Admiral Pococke returned to Nagapatam, and Count d’Ache made the best of his way to Pondicherry. His arrival did little to improve the position of affairs. The whole troops he had brought with him were no more than 180 men; and the money, though doubled by the capture of an English East Indiaman, amounted in all to only £33,000. How was such a reinforcement to supply the serious loss of men sustained by recent reverses? and how was such a paltry sum to meet either past arrears of pay or current expenses? Count d’Ache, instead of troubling himself with such questions, had anxieties of a different kind which he thought sufficient to occupy his attention. He had heard that Admiral Pococke’s squadron was about to be reinforced by four men-of-war, and as it was already too strong for him, what could he expect but destruction if he should be forced to a new encounter? So determined, therefore, was he to depart that he refused to go ashore, and gave orders to prepare for sailing in the course of twenty-four hours. This announcement was received with universal alarm and indignation. All the civil and military authorities, together with the principal inhabitants, assembled at the governor’s, and assuming the character of a national council, unanimously resolved that the precipitate departure of the squadron would be ruinous to the public interests. Count d’Ache remaining inflexible, a protest was drawn up, declaring that if he departed he would be held responsible for the loss of the settlement, and compelled to answer for his conduct to the king and the ministry. He had actually departed, and was some leagues out at sea when one of the ships which had been accidentally detained reached him and delivered the protest, together with a copy for each of his captains. Staggered at this proceeding, he immediately summoned a council, and, after a short delay, anchored again in the road of Pondicherry. The hopes thus raised were soon disappointed; for a few days after, when he had an opportunity to engage the British squadron, he declined it, and finally departed on the 30th of September, leaving behind him, however, as a kind of compromise, 900 men, of whom 500 were European sailors or marines.

When the campaign again opened, the presidency, in expectation of the arrival of Colonel Coote with the remaining division of his regiment, were averse to undertake any operation of importance. Major Brereton, on the contrary, having only an interim command of the troops, was anxious to signalize himself before he should be superseded, and by great urgency obtained a consent to attempt the capture of Wandiwash. His whole force, consisting of 4,080 infantry and 800 horse, 1,500 of the former and 100 of the latter European, marched from Conjeveram on the 26th of September, and arrived with little interruption in the vicinity of Wandiwash on the 28th. The French having obtained intelligence of his motions, had considerably augmented their force; but he was not aware of the fact, and in the belief that they were only expecting, and had not received reinforcements, thought it good generalship to advance to the attack with the least possible delay. Their Europeans he believed to be only 900, whereas they were in fact 1,300. Confident in his supposed superiority, he deemed caution unnecessary, and the very next day after his arrival prepared to attack the enemy at midnight. Not only were their numbers greater, but their position within the forts and inclosures of a large town, and under the protection of the guns of the fort, was far more formidable than he imagined. In these circumstances failure was almost inevitable, and a severe repulse, which the enemy magnified into a great victory, was sustained. Major Brereton maintained his position at Wandiwash till the 4th of October, and then retired upon Conjeveram. Bussy, who arrived the day after and took the command of the French forces, now amounting to 1,500 European foot and 300 cavalry, besides native troops, advanced to Conjeveram to offer battle, but Brereton, now as dispirited as he had previously been confident, had no inclination to risk a new disaster. Bussy, thus unopposed, sent back the main body of the army to Wandiwash, and proceeded with an European detachment of 400 horse and 150 foot to Arcot.

Basalat Jung, Salabat Jung’s brother, who held the government of Adoni, had arrived on the northern frontier of the Carnatic, and made overtures which the French deemed so hopeful, that Bussy was on the way to join him and concert an alliance. With this view he had proceeded to Arcot, and continuing his journey had left it a day’s march behind him, when his further progress was arrested by the intelligence that the army at Wandiwash had broken out in open mutiny. More than a year’s pay was due to them, and they had a belief, well or ill founded, that much money which ought to have been employed in discharging their arrears had been intercepted and embezzled. The mutiny, at first only partial, increased by the discipline employed to suppress it; and the whole troops, leaving their officers behind, marched out and encamped on the height which Major Brereton occupied before he made his ill-fated attack. The soldiers eventually carried their point, and did not return to duty till they received half a year’s pay in hand, a promise of the rest in a month, and a general pardon. Bussy, by halting till the mutiny was suppressed, lost some precious time, and, on reaching Basalat Jung, had the mortification to discover that he had changed his views and risen in his demands. The fact of the mutiny had not been lost upon him; and he became doubtful whether he might not by an alliance with the French be only involving himself in a falling cause. His proposals—obviously dictated by a belief that the French were no longer in a condition to refuse anything—were:—That on receiving a present sum of four lacs of rupees for the pay of his troops, he would return with Bussy to Arcot, provided he were forthwith recognized as nabob of the province, and of Trichinopoly and its dependencies;—as the first step in this agreement, the French should at once surrender to his authority all the countries of which they had actual possession, he drawing the revenues by his own diwan, but accounting to them for a third of the amount;—other countries which might be conquered by their united armies were to be his absolutely, without being subject to the deduction of a third;—ultimately, when peace should be made by conquering the British, or reducing them to terms, he should become absolute lord of the whole Carnatic according to ancient usages, and the French cease to have any claim whatever to any part of the revenues. These proposals, accompanied with others in which Basalat Jung’s present and future advantage was alone consulted, were too extravagant to be seriously entertained, and Bussy began to retrace his steps. He had been obliged to proceed as far as Kurpa, to which Basalat Jung had retreated; and had thus, without securing any advantage of the least moment, performed a march of 100 miles in a direct line, and of not less than 300 miles by road, much of it over barren tracts and through the windings of mountain valleys. Before he returned new disasters had befallen his countrymen.

Lally’s greatest difficulty had all along been the want of funds. The revenues obtained from the lands ceded to them, or in their possession, had never sufficed in the days of their greatest prosperity to meet the expenses in the field; and, now that a series of reverses had made it doubtful whether they would be able to maintain their ground, the zamindars and other parties liable in rent found many plausible excuses for withholding it. It was necessary, therefore, in opening a new campaign, to make some decided effort to procure funds. After various projects had been discussed, Lally became satisfied that the south was the most hopeful quarter. The country beyond Utatur had for some time suffered little from the ravages of war, and the island of Seringham in particular, which was still in French possession, would shortly reap a harvest, of which the share belonging to the government of Pondicherry was estimated at 600,000 rupees. Situated as Lally was, this seemed to him an object well worth fighting for; and in order to secure it, he determined to hazard the very dangerous step of dividing his army. He accordingly despatched M. Crillon to the south with a force consisting of 900 Europeans and 1,200 native troops, with ten pieces of cannon, and concentrated the remainder of the army in the vicinity of Arcot, from which it might be moved on any place that was threatened.

The Madras presidency were no sooner made aware how Lally had voluntarily weakened himself than they resolved to lose no time in commencing the campaign. This they were able to do under the most favourable auspices. Colonel Coote, with the remainder of his regiment, had arrived at Madras on the 27th of October, and, in the exercise of the discretionary power with which he had been intrusted, decided to remain in the Carnatic. On the 21st of November he set out for Conjeveram, where the larger part of the troops of the presidency were in cantonment; and, immediately after assuming the command, assembled a council of war, at which it was decided that, in the divided state of Lally’s forces, an attempt should be made to capture Wandiwash. To conceal this intention, and leave the enemy in doubt as to the place on which the blow was about to fall, Coote sent Captain Preston with a detachment to remain at Chingleput, and Major Brereton with another to attack Trivatore, while he himself moved with the main body on Arcot. He expected to find the enemy encamped there, and learned with surprise that they had removed to Chittapet. His future course had not been determined, when an express arrived from Major Brereton with the gratifying intelligence that, besides taking Trivatore, he had marched on Wandiwash, and made himself master of its suburbs. Coote at once determined to follow up this success by a forced march. On arriving he found that Brereton had almost completed a battery for two eighteen-pounders, erected so as to bear on the south-west angle of the fort. In the course of the night another battery to bear on the same angle was commenced. On the following day, the 29th of November, both batteries opened their fire, and before noon had made a practicable breach. The fort was commanded by a native officer, who had 500 horsemen and foot under him, but he had accepted the assistance of a body of French troops, consisting of 68 Europeans and 100 sepoys. When the garrison was summoned to surrender, two answers were returned—one by the French officer, who declared his determination to hold out to the last, and the other by the native governor or killedar, who sent to ask what terms would be given him. Coote promised to continue him as a dependant of the Company in the government of the fort and the rent of the districts, but required an answer by a specified hour. Shortly after the expiry of the time, the French appeared on the wall and called out that they were ready to surrender. This change of mind on their part was doubtless produced by the known intention of the killedar to accept the terms which had been offered. It is admitted, indeed, that he had signed his acceptance just as the British troops entered the fort, and yet, on the pretext that he was too late, all the stipulations made with him were shamefully violated. He was related to the family of Chanda Sahib, had long been connected with the French, and was held by Muhammed Ali to be so inveterate an enemy that he set more value on the possession of him as a prisoner than the reduction of the fort. On such irrelevant and unworthy grounds the Madras presidency became parties to an act of gross treachery, and the killedar, after refusing to disclose his treasures, or pay ten lacs of rupees for his ransom, was confined in a fort on one of the highest hills of Vellore.

Lally now discovered, when too late, that he had committed a fatal error in dividing his army. Not only was he unable to relieve Wandiwash, but he could not conceal from himself that other forts were destined to share the same fate. Carangoly, a large fort situated twenty-five miles E.N.E. of Wandiwash, was next attacked, and fell like it, though not without making a better defence and obtaining better terms. Coote’s attention was next called to Arcot. Considered as the capital of the nabobship, the possession of it was naturally regarded as an object of primary moment, though in itself it was comparatively unimportant. Preparatory to the siege of the fort, Coote ordered a detachment to move from Kaveripak and take post in the city. This was accomplished without opposition—the garrison of the fort, which was only half a mile distant, looking on as unconcerned spectators, while possession was taken of the nabob’s palace and the adjoining streets. It was not, however, to be supposed that Lally would allow the capital to be wrested from him without a struggle. The moment he saw it seriously threatened, he sent a peremptory order recalling Crillon with his force from Seringham. Bussy, too, arrived most opportunely from his long and fruitless visit to Basalat Jung, bringing with him not only all the troops he had taken away, but a considerable body of good horse whom he had induced to join him. The aspect of affairs was thus somewhat changed. The British detachment, after they had collected fascines and other materials, and even commenced the erection of a battery, were obliged suddenly to decamp; and Bussy’s horse taking advantage of his departure for Pondicherry, spread themselves over the country, and committed every species of devastation. At the same time a body of Marathas, who had been hovering on the western frontiers, prepared to descend into the low country to sell themselves to the highest bidder. The Madras presidency deeming their terms too high, tried to lower them; the French agent gave a sum of 20,000 rupees in hand, and thus obtained a body of 1,000 horse who, without joining their camp, made their appearance between Arcot and Conjeveram.

Coote with his army quitted Wandiwash on the 13th of December, and next evening took up a position which enabled him to intercept the enemy’s troops when moving towards each other, whether from Arcot or from Chittapet. On the 16th he advanced six miles nearer the former town. Meantime Bussy’s horse and the Marathas continued their course of plunder to such an extent, that the inhabitants took refuge in the forts and woods, and ceased to bring in any supplies of provisions to the British camp, which was in consequence threatened with starvation. To increase their difficulties, the rain began to fall in torrents. As the best alternative that now remained, Coote quitted his position and placed his army in cantonments in Kaveripak and the adjacent villages. Shortly after Coote’s retirement, Lally, who had been exerting himself to the utmost, quitted Chittapet with a largely augmented force, and advanced to Arcot. This movement compelled Coote again to take the field, and he took up a strong position at a point nearly equidistant from Arcot and Kaveripak. Here, with a large tank in front, a morass on each flank, and a rear accessible only along a causeway, he remained on the defensive, both because the enemy was far superior to him in cavalry, and he was waiting the result of a negotiation by which it was hoped that the Marathas might be gained over to his side. Lally, too, waiting for the return of the reinforcement which had arrived too late to save Masulipatam, and mistrusting the spirit of his European troops after their late mutiny, had good reasons for not assuming the offensive. Both armies consequently remained within their encampments.

In the beginning of January, 1760, the negotiation with the Marathas again terminated in favour of the French. The Madras presidency offered 60,000 rupees, but proposed to pay in conditional bills; the French sent the same sum in ready money, and were of course preferred. On the 8th of January, Innis Khan, Murari Rao’s general, joined their camp with a new body of 3,000 mounted, and a greater number of foot plunderers. Lally’s star seemed once more in the ascendant, and he quitted his encampment to commence active operations. Coote suspected that the recovery of Wandiwash was his object, and sent orders to the officer whom he had left in command to defend it to the last extremity. At the same time, sending off his baggage to Kaveripak, he began to move eastward along the north bank of the Paliar. Lally kept moving at some distance from the southern bank at a very slow pace. He had an object in view, and was preparing to gain it by a stratagem. He had been told that the British army derived its supplies of rice from large magazines of it stored at Conjeveram. In this belief he executed a series of dexterous manoeuvres to cover his design, and as soon as it was dark set out, taking nearly all the cavalry of his army and a body of 300 sepoys, with the utmost expedition crossed the Paliar, and after a march of fifteen miles, pounced suddenly upon that town at eight o’clock in the morning.

He had no difficulty in entering it, but it was only to meet disappointment. His information had been false. The stores of rice were imaginary, and the plunder found within the town was almost worthless. The pagoda, indeed, contained a stock of military stores; but it was a place of some strength, occupied by two companies of sepoys under an English lieutenant; and as he had no means of forcing it, it only remained for him to make a hasty retreat, after revenging himself on the inoffensive inhabitants by setting fire to their houses.

Lally, after this disappointment, was more anxious than ever to perform some exploit, which might revive the spirits and raise him in the estimation of his troops. He could not but know that the failure of most of his recent measures had suggested grave doubts of his capacity; and that the reputation of Bussy, of whom he had always entertained an unworthy jealousy, had risen in proportion as his own had sunk. These facts galled him to the quick, and made him so impatient that he was almost ready for any attempt, however rash. Bussy exerted himself to check this wild spirit; and, when it was proposed forthwith to attempt the capture of Wandiwash, suggested a far more judicious course. The English, he said, would not lose Wandiwash without risking a battle to save it. That battle the French would be obliged to fight under great disadvantage. A large part of their force would necessarily be employed in the siege, and the main body thus weakened, being obliged to remain where they could cover the siege, would have no choice of position. The better plan, therefore, would be not to engage in operations which might make it necessary to risk a general action, but to keep together on the banks of the Paliar, and employ the Marathas in ravaging the country and cutting off all sources of supply, so as to leave the enemy no alternative but either to fight when he would rather decline it, or be forced to seek subsistence under the walls of Madras. This advice, which Lally would not have relished from any one, was most unpalatable from Bussy, who, he was uncharitable enough to think, had given it from unworthy motives. His determination, therefore, was to attempt the siege of Wandiwash at all hazards. Coote, who had hastened off to Conjeveram on hearing of the unexpected attack upon it, left it on the 14th of January, and having crossed the Paliar, encamped on the 17th near Outramalur—a position which, besides being equidistant from Trivatore, where Bussy had been left with the main body of the French army, and Wandiwash, at which Lally had now arrived in person with a considerable detachment, had the additional advantage of securing the communication with Chingleput, and through it with Madras. Lally, after taking possession of the suburbs of Wandiwash, threw entrenchments across the openings of the streets leading to the fort, and commenced a battery which, erected near the same spot which Coote had selected, was intended to fire upon the same angle which he succeeded in breaching. He was shortly after joined by Bussy from Trivatore with the main body. Coote, though suffering from want of provisions, kept his position, watching his opportunity, which he knew must arrive, when the enemy prepared to assault, as he would then have an option of attacking the besiegers, or the division encamped in the plain to cover them. Bussy, thus confirmed in the view he had taken of Coote’s probable tactics, reiterated the advice to keep the whole army together by desisting from the siege till a better opportunity; but Lally, who had formerly rejected the advice, was now less inclined than ever to listen to it.

Coote, on learning that the battery had opened its fire, and breached the main rampart, quitted his encampment at Outramalur, and advanced to Tirimbourg, within seven miles of Wandiwash. In the vicinity of the latter a mountain of same name stretches above a league from north-east to southwest. The French army was encamped opposite to the eastern end of this mountain, about two miles from the fort. On the 22nd of January Coote hastened forward at the head of two troops of European and 1,000 native cavalry, together with two companies of sepoys. He was first descried by the Marathas, who were lying with their plunder along the north-east foot of the mountain; and some skirmishing took place between the cavalry. It was on the whole to his advantage, for he took possession of the ground which the enemy quitted, and saw the whole plain clear up to their camp. Shortly after, observing, about half a mile to the right, some gardens and other inclosures which might be used for shelter on necessity, while the ground beyond was well adapted for the display and action of the whole army, he ordered the division he had brought with him to form upon it, and went back to the line of infantry, to whom he announced his intention to lead them on to a general engagement. The announcement was received with acclamations by the whole troops; and he led them on in battle array to the ground which the cavalry were already occupying. Here they stood in full view of the French camp, without perceiving any motion in it, or even hearing the sound of firing against the fort.

The day began to wear, and Coote proceeded with his army, still drawn up, towards the south side of the mountain, till he reached a tract of ground at its foot so covered with stones and fragments of rocks, that cavalry, in which the enemy’s main superiority consisted, could not act upon it. Here he halted opposite to the French camp, at the distance of about a mile and a half, expecting that the defiance which he thus threw out would be accepted. After some time, perceiving that the enemy still remained quiet, he again moved, intending to skirt the mountain till he should arrive opposite to the fort, and then turn so as to have it on the right. The effect of this movement would have been to give him one of the strongest possible positions. While the tract of mountain debris secured his left flank, he not only would have the protection of the fire of the fort on his right, but could not be prevented from throwing into it any number of troops that might be deemed advisable. He might then, if necessary, by a sally of the garrison, when sufficiently reinforced, drive the enemy from their batteries in the town, and attack them with the whole army, either on the flank or in the rear, thus rendering all the entrenchments and other defences which they had thrown up in front of their position entirely useless. Lally, though he had failed to anticipate this movement, no sooner saw it commenced than he penetrated the object of it; and, as the only effectual means of now preventing it, determined no longer to delay the encounter. The camp, as if it had been suddenly aroused from a state of lethargy, beat to arms, and the troops were seen issuing forth to occupy the ground in front, which had previously been marked out as a battle-field.

The whole French force drawn out consisted of 2,250 Europeans, of whom 300 were cavalry and 1,300 sepoys. Besides these, 150 Europeans and 300 sepoys continued at the batteries against the fort. The Marathas numbered 3,000 horse; but instead of taking part in the action, they considered it sufficient service to guard their own camp, and remain on the watch for an opportunity of pillaging the British baggage. The French order of battle was as follows:—On the right the European cavalry; next, the regiment of Lorraine, mustering 400 men; next again, the Indian battalion, 700; and lastly, Lally’s regiment, 400, whose left were under a tank, which had been retrenched, and in which were posted 300 men, chiefly marines from Count d’Ache’s squadron, or soldiers who had returned after failing to relieve Masulipatam. Another tank, in the rear of the retrenched one, was occupied by 400 sepoys, whom Bussy had brought from Kurpa. The rest of the sepoys, 900 in number, were ranged behind a ridge which ran along the front of the camp. At each extremity of this ridge was a retrenchment, guarded by fifty Europeans. Of the artillery, in all sixteen field-pieces, four were placed in the retrenched tank, and the remainder in sections of three each between the different bodies of troops forming the line.

The British army consisted of 1,900 Europeans, including eighty cavalry, 1,250 black horse, and 2,100 sepoys, and was ranged in three distinct lines. In the first were Coote’s regiment on the right, the Company’s two battalions in the centre, and Draper’s regiment on the left; all these without their grenadiers. On the flanks of this line were 1,800 sepoys, 900 on each. In the second line were all the grenadiers of the army, amounting to 300, and having on each flank 100 sepoys. The third line was formed by the cavalry, the eighty Europeans occupying the centre. Two companies of sepoys stood apart, with two field-pieces, a little in advance of the left of the first line. The artillery consisted of twenty-six field-pieces.

The action was commenced by Lally in person. While the British were marching up, and before they were within cannon-shot, he put himself at the head of the European cavalry, and, after a large sweep of the plain, made a dash at the third line. As soon as his intention was perceived, the sepoys of the separate detachment, with their two guns, were ordered to fall back at an angle which would enable them to take the attacking cavalry in flank as they were approaching. At the same time the black horse, thus threatened to be attacked in rear, made a show of wheeling round to face the enemy, but only, and apparently of set purpose, threw themselves into confusion that they might have a pretext for flight. The eighty Europeans, thus left alone, prepared notwithstanding to receive the charge. Fortunately for them it was unnecessary. The two guns of the sepoys, admirably managed by Captain Barker, opened with such effect on the attacking party, that they galloped off without having accomplished or even attempted anything. Lally, thus left alone, had no choice but to follow the fugitives. A cannonade had in the meantime commenced. The superiority was decidedly with the British; and Lally, on returning to his infantry, found them impatient under the loss which they were sustaining without being brought to close quarters. Their impatience was seconded by his own impetuosity, and he gave the order to advance. The engagement was soon general along the whole line.

The regiment of Lorraine, formed in a column twelve in front, advanced almost at a run against Coote’s regiment, who by his orders reserved their fire till their assailants were within fifty yards, when they fired a volley with deadly effect both on the front and flanks. The column though staggered did not stop, and in an instant the two regiments were mingled in dreadful conflict at the point of the bayonet. It did not last long, for the column, unable to sustain the shock, gave way and fled in disorder. About the same time a tumbril in the retrenched tank struck by a shot exploded, killing or wounding eighty men. Such was the consternation produced, that a large number of those posted in the tank immediately abandoned it. Their example was followed by the 400 sepoys. To take advantage of this confusion, Coote ordered Major Brereton to advance with the whole of Draper’s regiment and seize the retrenched tank. He had just carried it with great gallantry when he fell mortally wounded. The possession of the tank exposed the left flank of Lally’s regiment, which, as soon as two field-pieces were brought to play upon it, began to waver. The day was now all but lost to the French, and Bussy, in making a gallant effort to retrieve it, was taken prisoner. The other wing and centre of the enemy’s line offered little resistance, and the sepoys who were posted behind the ridge, on being ordered to advance, refused to obey. Lally, now convinced that further resistance was useless, abandoned his camp, which the victors immediately entered without opposition. Had Coote’s black horse been worth anything the French army must have been utterly dispersed; but instead of charging they kept cautiously aloof, overawed by the steady front of the European cavalry, who anxious to redeem the disgrace of their early flight, enabled Lally to effect the retreat in tolerable order. On passing the fort he was joined by the party left in charge of the batteries, and hastened off in the direction on Chittapet. The whole loss of the French, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, was computed at 600 Europeans. The killed and wounded of the British amounted only to 190.

Lally, continuing his retreat, committed the serious blunder of quitting Chittapet without reinforcing it; and Coote, on whom no advantage was ever thrown away, determined to capture it. In the meantime Captain Wood, who commanded at Kaveripak, was ordered to advance with his garrison and invest the fort of Arcot; and 1,000 of the black horse were sent south to ravage the country between Alamparva and Pondicherry, in retaliation for the previous devastations committed by the French and their Maratha allies in the districts of the English Company. Both expeditions were successful. The black horse in particular, though they had proved worthless on the field of battle, were excellent marauders, and returned with 8,000 head of cattle, after having burned eighty-four villages. In giving such details one naturally thinks of the fearful amount of misery which must have been endured by the native peasantry, while thus involuntarily made parties to a war in the issue of which they had no interest. Chittapet was invested by a detachment on the 26th of January, 1760, and made only a show of resistance. On the 29th, when the whole army encamped within cannon-shot, a battery of two eighteen-pounders was commenced and completed in the course of the night. At five the next morning the fire opened, and proved so effective that the breach was nearly practicable by eleven. The garrison, consisting of only fifty-six Europeans and 300 sepoys, had no idea of standing an assault, and surrendered at discretion. The same day Innis Khan, deterred at the course of events, quitted the Carnatic with all his Marathas.

On the 1st of February Coote arrived before Arcot. Since the celebrated defence by Clive the works of the fort had been much improved. The ditch, mostly in the solid rock, had been dug to an uniform depth of six feet; a glacis and covered way had been carried entirely round; and from the middle of the north side of the covered way, a strong revelin, mounting six guns and communicating with the fort by a gate with a drawbridge, projected. The siege immediately commenced, and the fire of three batteries was opened on the 5th. Owing to a want both of artillery and ammunition not much progress was made. The approaches, however, were pushed on, and by the 9th not only had the sap reached very near the glacis, but two breaches had been made to within six feet of the bottom of the rampart. Still much remained to be done; and the means of defence were still unexhausted, when Coote was greatly but agreeably surprised at receiving a voluntary offer of surrender. The terms were soon arranged, and the grenadiers of the army were allowed next morning to take possession of the gates. The garrison, consisting of 247 Europeans, and nearly as many sepoys, had not lost three men, and might have held out for ten days longer before the assault could have been risked.

The prospects of the French were now gloomy in the extreme. Their resources were almost exhausted, and the schemes suggested for replenishing the treasury did little more than revive bitter quarrels and recriminations between the civil and military authorities. Coote meanwhile continued to reap the fruits of his victory. Mortaz Ali, in Vellore, on hearing that the British army had, after the capture of Arcot, encamped in that direction, feared that he might be called to account for the suspicious, if not hostile course which he had for some time pursued, and sent Coote a sum of 30,000 rupees. He refused it, stating that he was not authorized either by the nabob or the presidency to levy tribute. Mortaz Ali replying that it was a present to himself, as a mark of homage to a great commander, according to the custom of the country, the money was accepted, but only to be added to the general stock of the prize-money of the army. The honourable contrast which Coote’s conduct on this occasion presents to that of the civil and military authorities in Bengal, when similarly tempted, will not be overlooked.

Coote marched from Chittapet on the 26th of February, and arrived on the 29th at Tindivanam, a place of large resort, situated at the junction of several roads leading to Pondicherry, from which it is only twenty-five miles distant. The object of this march could not be misunderstood; and the French, who had commenced the war in the full confidence of establishing an undisputed supremacy, became aware that their next struggle must be for existence. To prepare for the worst, they endeavoured to obtain possession of all the commanding posts in the vicinity. One of the most important of these was the fort of Permacoil, situated about eighteen miles north-west of Pondicherry, and capable both from its position and its strength of protecting the intervening territory. It had previously been in a great measure overlooked; but immediately after the defeat at Wandiwash, Lally saw the use which might be made of it, and induced the native governor to admit a party of French with some cannon into it. After the capture of Chittapet and Arcot, suspecting that he had committed himself to the losing party, he wrote Coote, pretending that the French had gained admittance by surprise, and offering to assist him in ousting them. It seemed worth while to put his sincerity to the test; and hence, when the rest of the army was on the way to Tindivanam, Coote had preceded them with most of the cavalry, and two companies of sepoys, and advanced as far as Permacoil. It consisted, as usual, of a pettah or town, and a fort; the former surrounded with mud walls, and the latter crowning the summit of a precipitous rock, rising to the height of 300 feet at its narrow end, and gradually lowering to 200 feet at the other. The governor gave all the assistance he had promised; but it would have been of little avail had the garrison, though small, been properly provided for a siege. Shortly after the attack began their fire slackened from want of ammunition. Still, however, they maintained the defence manfully at a considerable loss of life to the besiegers, and six days elapsed before they surrendered. Lally on this, as on many other occasions, was only a little too late. A large detachment was actually on the way to throw a considerable reinforcement of men and stores into the fort, when intelligence of Coote’s approach frustrated the design.

The reduction of the places still in possession of the French might now be considered as merely a work of time, and the British proceeded to attack fort after fort with almost unvarying success. It is affirmed, indeed, by Lally, that had they, instead of directing their attention to subordinate objects, marched direct upon Pondicherry, they might have made themselves masters of it in eight days. On such a subject he ought to be a good authority; but as he makes this statement when his object was to show how shamefully the authorities had acted in not providing better for its defence, it may be presumed that there was some exaggeration in it. Coote thought differently, and therefore acted more cautiously by not attempting to take Pondicherry till it was rendered in a manner defenceless, by the capture of all the places from which it might have drawn assistance. Though the French squadron had long been withdrawn from the coast, and that of the British been reinforced to a strength which it had never before possessed, it was not impossible that, as a last resource, Count d’Ache, or some more enterprising naval commander, might make his appearance from the Mauritius, or directly from France, and by throwing in supplies enable Pondicherry to maintain a protracted defence. It was desirable, therefore, that all the places where such ships could rendezvous, and enjoy even a temporary protection, should be reduced. These places on the Coromandel coast were now only two: Alamparva to the north of Pondicherry, and Carrical to the south. Coote, still suffering from a wound which he had received at Permacoil, intrusted the siege of Alamparva to Major Monson. It was invested on the 10th of March, and though a place of some strength, having a fort solidly built of stone, and inclined by a wet ditch, surrendered at discretion on the third day. Carrical being considered a place of more consequence, the preparations made for besieging it were on a greater scale. As it was intended at the same time to maintain as large an army as possible near Pondicherry, in order to intercept all supplies from the surrounded country, some difficulty was found in procuring such a force as was judged adequate. To supply the deficiency 300 marines were obtained from the fleet, 100 European firelocks, forty artillerymen, 1,000 sepoys, and six field-pieces were brought from Trichinopoly, and the King of Tanjore was requested to send his army, and every kind of assistance. Major Monson, who was again to command, having embarked with a party of troops from Alamparva, anchored in the road of Carrical on the 28th of March, and was joined, in the course of the same evening, by a squadron which had sailed from Madras with the artillery and stores. Considerable disappointment was felt when it was discovered that the King of Tanjore had paid no attention to the request made to him, and that none of the expected reinforcements had yet arrived. It was determined, notwithstanding, to effect a landing, and commence the necessary works. It soon appeared that the means of defence had been greatly overrated. The fort, in the form of a parallelogram, was regularly constructed, but was of such limited dimensions as to be rather a fort in miniature than one for actual service. Its whole length was 100, and its breadth only 50 yards. This, indeed, was exclusive of the bastions, one at each angle, but these admitted only three guns in their faces. To compensate this defect each of the four curtains was covered by a ravelin mounting six guns. On the 5th of April, ten days after the landing, a considerable breach had been effected; and though much remained to be done before access to it could be obtained, the governor was summoned to surrender. Contrary to expectation he expressed his readiness to do so, provided he were allowed to march out with the honours of war. When this was refused he made no further objection, and resigned the place without firing another shot. The besiegers could scarcely credit their success. Only three men had been killed in the attack, and five in the defence. “Never, perhaps,” says Orme, “was so great an armament prepared to succeed with so little loss, excepting when De Labourdonnais took Madras in 1746.”

The capture of these maritime places was followed by that of Valdore and others, so that Pondicherry was in a manner hemmed in on every side; and no places of any consequence, not in its immediate vicinity, remained in the French possession except the forts of Gingi and Thiagur. These, however, could not be any obstacle to the siege of Pondicherry; and this task, which if accomplished would give the finishing blow to French power in India, was now to be commenced in earnest. Lally on his part was not idle, and turned his attention to every quarter from which it seemed possible that aid could be drawn. Among other quarters, he thought of Mysore. Hyder Ali, destined to make an important figure in Indian warfare, had succeeded in usurping the whole power of the government. With him Lally opened a communication through the intervention of a Portuguese monk, who bore the title of Bishop of Halicarnassus, and was not unwilling to employ the influence which he acquired in his religious character for political purposes. Through him the bargain which enlisted the Marathas in the French service had been concluded, and it was therefore not unlikely that he would be able to conclude a similar bargain with the Mysoreans. Hyder Ali, though virtual ruler of Mysore, did not feel perfectly secure, and was therefore anxious to possess some place of strength on the frontiers, in which he might always be certain of finding an impregnable asylum. Thiagur was just such a place; and he was therefore easily induced to enter into a treaty by which he agreed that, in return for the cession of the forts of Thiagur and Elvanasore, which, with their dependencies, “were to remain the property of the Mysoreans in perpetuity, as long as the flag of France existed in India,” he would immediately furnish a body of 2,000 horse and 3,000 sepoys, to be employed in the French service, and paid at the rate of 100,000 rupees a month. After the delivery of Thiagur he was to supply an additional 1,000 horse and 2,000 sepoys. All these forces, united with those of the French, were to be first employed in clearing the Carnatic, and afterwards in conquering Madura and Tinnevelly. These countries when conquered were to belong absolutely to Hyder Ali, who was, moreover, to receive nearly a half of all the Carnatic conquests.

The secret of this negotiation had been so well kept, that the Madras presidency heard of it for the first time on the 24th of May, while they were busy with the preparations for the complete blockade of Pondicherry. At first it was believed to be an idle rumour, which Lally had set afloat for some concealed purpose; but all doubt on the subject was set at rest by the actual arrival of the first division of the Mysore troops at Thiagur on the 4th of June. Meanwhile small parties had passed undiscovered from Pondicherry to Gingi, and thence to Thiagur. In this way 200 Europeans had been assembled for the purpose of accompanying the Mysoreans in their future march to Pondicherry. Attempts were made to interrupt their progress, but they dexterously avoided an encounter by changing their course, and on the 23rd of June arrived safely at Arian-cupan. They had been cumbered with an immense convoy of cattle, and succeeded in bringing 2,000 head as far as Trivadi. In order to hasten on, the greater part of them were here left behind, and ultimately not more than 300 arrived at Pondicherry.

The Mysoreans who had arrived were only 1,500 cavalry, and had been sent forward by Hyder Ali, not so much in fulfilment of the treaty, as to obtain a formal ratification of it. Lally had carried on the negotiation on his own responsibility; but as a rumour of his recall had become prevalent, Hyder Ali insisted that the treaty should be signed not only by him, but by Deleyrit the governor, and all the members of council. This placed them in a kind of dilemma. They professed to disapprove of the terms of the treaty, and yet were unwilling to lose the benefit of it. They therefore signed; but at the same time had recourse to the mean subterfuge of endeavouring to throw the whole responsibility on Lally, by drawing up a secret document, in which they protested against their own signature, and embodied all their objections. As soon as the treaty was signed, all the Mysoreans went away, promising a speedy return with their whole force and abundance of provisions. They were even better than their word; for they not only arrived, but gained a victory by the way. Their force, consisting of 4,000 horse, 1,000 sepoys, and 200 Europeans or topasses of the French army, with eight pieces of cannon, had arrived within sight of Trivadi, when they were encountered by Major Moore, who had gone to intercept them at the head of 180 European infantry, 50 hussars, 1,600 black horse, and 1,100 sepoys. The manifest inferiority of numbers should have made Moore pause before risking a battle; but either because he was not in a condition to refuse it, or from over-confidence, he attempted to stand his ground, and owing to some unexplained mischance or misconduct, sustained a disgraceful and total defeat. The Mysoreans were afterwards allowed to proceed without interruption, and on their arrival at Pondicherry were received with a long salute of cannon. They deserved it; for, besides the troops, they brought, what was justly deemed not less important, 3,000 bullocks, carrying their baggage and drawing their artillery, and 3,000 more laden with rice and other provisions.

When Moore met with the above disaster, Coote was encamped with his army at the foot of the hill of Perimbe, preparing for the siege of Villenore, a fort about five miles W.S.W. of Pondicherry, and now the only serious obstacle to the complete investment of it. Believing that Lally, as soon as the Mysoreans arrived, would make every effort to save this fort, he proceeded, with that happy union of enterprise and caution which characterized all his movements, to strengthen his position by a redoubt and several retrenchments judiciously selected, so as both to protect his army in the event of an attack by superior numbers, and furnish a basis for offensive operations. His precautions were not unnecessary; for after the Mysoreans arrived, Lally, determined to lose no time in relieving Villenore, set out for that purpose at the head of the whole forces he could muster. His numbers were far superior to the British, and he had every prospect of compelling Coote either to raise the siege of the fort, or risk an action under unfavourable circumstances in order to maintain it. Lally’s bad fortune still attended him. The garrison, though few in numbers, and threatened every moment with assault, might easily have stood out for two days. The commandant thought otherwise, and hung out a flag of truce, which was instantly followed by surrender. The event took both armies equally by surprise, but of course produced very different sensations. Coote, successful at the very moment when he least expected it, declared that during the whole course of his career he had never been so fortunate. Lally, who had arrived within cannon-shot, was horror-struck when he saw the British flag flying on the ramparts, and hastened back to seek the protection of the guns of Ariancupan. Coote, shortly after the capture of Villenore, having been reinforced by 700 of the nabob’s force, and 500 of his cavalry, marched up to the bound hedge with almost all his native troops, but without any Europeans. His object was to try the temper and courage of the Mysoreans by defying them to an encounter with their own countrymen. Previous events had discouraged them, and they declined the challenge.

The junction of the Mysoreans with the French was not so formidable in its direct as in its indirect consequences. The nabob’s revenues could not be collected in the face of marauding parties, and yet there was no other source from which the funds necessary to carry on the war could be obtained, as the directors at home had intimated their resolution not to supply them, and the Bengal presidency, instead of being able, as the directors imagined, to meet the wants of the other presidencies, had been obliged to borrow largely for its own necessities. Pecuniary embarrassments, however, was now the only danger to be feared, for reinforcements were arriving from different quarters, and in particular, towards the beginning of August, six Company ships arrived, having on board 600 men drafted from regiments in England. The French, on the contrary, were rapidly becoming weakened. The Mysoreans, increased to about 10,000, were unable to render any service equal to the monthly pay for which they had stipulated; and, notwithstanding their dexterity as marauders, failed to bring in provisions sufficient for their own consumption. No sooner was the pressure of want felt than they began to repent of their French alliance. Desertions in consequence became so numerous, particularly among the sepoys, as greatly to thin their ranks. The horse, possessing better means of regaining their homes when they should deem it expedient, remained more steadily at their posts, but at last, when they found their communications with the open country gradually narrowed, the greatest part of the whole body suddenly decamped in one night from the glacis of Pondicherry. They were hotly pursued, and suffered much from British detachments before they made their escape. A few nights after, those who had remained, as well as a division of 500 who had retraced their steps in order to elude pursuit, moved off, and in a short time not one Mysorean remained.

The time seemed now arrived for establishing complete blockade of Pondicherry both by sea and land. It was necessary for this purpose that the bound hedge, with its redoubts, should be in possession of the British army, and that the squadron should remain on the coast even during the approaching monsoon. Coote thought it, moreover, necessary that the fort of Ariancupan should be captured. The force necessary for this purpose was estimated at 800 Europeans; but it seemed doubtful whether such a number could be safely withdrawn from the camp, which mustered in all, inclusive of garrison and detachments, only 2,000 Europeans and 6,000 native troops. It was therefore determined, in order to prevent the army from being too much weakened, to employ the marines of the squadron on shore. They amounted in all to 422 Europeans, and were landed at Cuddalore on the 27th of August. Another seasonable reinforcement was obtained on the 2nd of September, by the arrival of several Company ships, having on board part of a Highland regiment. They were under convoy of three ships of war, two of them of sixty guns each. These joined to the other ships increased the whole squadron now before Pondicherry, under the command of Admiral Stevens, to seventeen sail of the line.

The joy caused by the arrival of these ships and troops was much damped by the commissions which they brought from the War Office, appointing Majors Brereton and Monson lieutenant-colonel, with prior date to the commission of Colonel Coote. This distinguished officer was thus virtually superseded at the very moment when he was preparing to crown all his exploits by a final triumph. The injustice done him was, however, rather accidental than premeditated. Coote had been originally appointed to Bengal, and the commissions had been issued under the belief that he was actually serving, or at least about to serve there, as the new colonels were expressly ordered not to assert their commissions while he remained on the coast. Major Brereton had, as we have seen, met a soldier’s death at Wandiwash. Monson was still at his post, and might have done himself honour by continuing to serve under Coote as before. This temporary obscuration of rank, however, was too great a sacrifice, and the utmost which he could bring himself to propose was to retire to Madras. This could not be listened to, and Coote, immediately giving over the command of the army to him, prepared to sail for Bengal. As a matter of course he meant to take his regiment along with him, but generously consented to leave it behind, when the presidency alleged that it could not be wanted, and Monson even declared that on its departure the blockade of Pondicherry would be raised. He may have made this declaration the more readily in consequence of a bold attempt which Lally made to take the British camp by surprise. Being perfectly aware that he was in no condition to stand a siege, he mustered all his forces for an expiring effort. It was concerted with some skill and so much secrecy, that Coote, though he had many spies in Pondicherry, was totally unaware till the attack actually commenced. On the 4th of September the whole of Lally’s disposable troops, amounting to 1,400 European infantry, 100 European horse, and 900 sepoys, having marched out of the town, and passed the boundary hedge, approached the British camp in four divisions, to take possession of the post which had been previously assigned them. By some mistake, the division which ought to have been the most effective of all, as it was in the rear of the camp, did not arrive in time to commence the attack when the concerted signal was given; and the other divisions, disappointed when the expected diversion was not made in their favour, were obliged, after a partial success, to retire.

The intended attempt on Ariancupan had been abandoned in deference to the objections of Monson, who was now able to carry on the siege according to his own plans. His first object was to seize the four redoubts which were placed in the openings of the bound hedge, and commanded the leading avenues to the town. With this view a night attack was resolved, and would have completely succeeded but for a blunder similar to that to which Lally had owed his failure. The rear of one of the leading divisions becoming separated by mismanagement from the van, caused so much delay that daylight began to appear, and enabled the defenders of one of the redoubts to open a murderous fire. The very first shot from a twenty-four pounder, double loaded with langrage, killed eleven men and wounded twenty-six. Among the latter was Colonel Monson himself, struck with a piece of iron which broke both the bones of his leg. Notwithstanding this disaster two of the redoubts were carried.

Colonel Monson’s wound might have been followed by fatal results to the besiegers. The officer next in command was a Major Robert Gordon, who had more than once absented himself from his post in the hour of danger, and was in other respects incompetent. Fortunately Coote had not yet sailed for Bengal, and readily consented, at the request both of Monson and the presidency, to resume the command, and finish the work which he had so well begun. He arrived only in time. Gordon, as obstinate as ignorant, had risked the recapture of the redoubts, by refusing to take the advice of a wiser officer than himself. General discontent also, produced by a deficient supply of provisions and sickness, had begun to prevail. Under Coote’s skill and vigorous command the gathering clouds disappeared. Of the two remaining redoubts in the bound hedge one was voluntarily abandoned by the enemy without a struggle, and the other forced, though not without some loss to the assailants. In consequence of these successes the whole of the bound hedge was in possession of the besiegers, who were thus enabled to convert one of the main defences of the town into a new means of annoyance.

October had now arrived, and active operations were necessarily postponed in the prospect of the approaching monsoon. This temporary cessation of hostilities, however, afforded no real relief to Pondicherry. Its worst enemy was within. Provisions had begun to fail, and unless new supplies could be obtained, famine must soon compel a surrender. To diminish the consumption, Lally proposed the immediate expulsion of the black inhabitants, but the general council which he assembled to consider the subject did not see the necessity of the case so strongly as he did, and broke up without a decision. Many of the European families, however, obtained Coote’s permission to pass without interruption to the Danish or Dutch settlements on the coast.

The attempts made by Lally to obtain provisions generally failed. As a last resource he entered into a negotiation with the Marathas, who had again made their appearance, in the hope of turning the course of events to their own profit. Gingi, which had once belonged to them, was the great object on which their hearts were set, and Balaji Rao must have been strongly tempted when he was offered 500,000 rupees in hand the moment he should appear with his army, and the cession of Gingi as soon as the siege of Pondicherry should be raised. The Maratha chief was too cautious and wily to commit himself at once, and protracted the negotiation till the opportunity was lost.

Preparations were now made to convert the blockade of Pondicherry into a regular siege, and on the 16th of November a vessel laden with all the necessary stores arrived from Madras. Lally, seeing these preparations, could no longer consent to postpone the execution of the proposal he had made more than a month before, and turned out of the gates the whole of the natives, with the exception of a few retained as domestics, to the number of 1,400, of both sexes and all ages. They made their way to the boundary hedge, hoping they would be permitted to pass, but it was only to meet with treatment more ruthless than that of their expulsion. The British outposts drove them back; and they gathered in despair at the foot of the glacis, imploring re-admission. When it was refused, some attempted to clamber over into the covered way, and were fired upon and killed. Seven days the wretched survivors kept wandering between the town and the British posts without shelter, and with no food except the roots of grass which they picked up. The guilt of this horrid inhumanity was shared both by besiegers and besieged, but by no means in an equal degree. Lally could plead necessity for what he had done; Coote could plead nothing but the advantage which he might gain by an act of horrid inhumanity.

Four ricochet batteries, intended only to harass the garrison by a cross fire of ricochet shot along the streets and ramparts, were opened near midnight of the 8th of December, and continued their fire at intervals during the six following days. It did very little execution, and was scarcely worth the ammunition expended upon it, though it certainly had the effect of increasing the fatigue of the garrison when very little able to bear it. They had been put on an allowance of a pound of rice a day, with a little meat at intervals; but even this limited consumption so much exceeded some casual supplies by sea, that by the end of December the public store did not contain provision for more than three days. At this time, however, they derived some relief from an unexpected quarter. On the very last day of the year 1760, while the British squadron, in all twelve sail, were riding in Pondicherry Road, a sudden hurricane arose. Six of the vessels foundered, or were driven ashore, and no fewer than 1,000 Europeans belonging to them perished. The disasters were not confined to the sea. All the tents and temporary caserns of the camp were blown to pieces; the ammunition brought out for immediate use was destroyed; and the sea breaking over the beach, and overflowing the whole tract as far as the boundary hedge, ruined all the batteries and redoubts which the army had raised.

The inhabitants of Pondicherry, when the sun rose clear the next morning and showed them the general devastation, regarded it as a deliverance from Heaven. Had only 300 men been able to march out three hours after daylight, they would not have found 100 of the besiegers together to resist them. This, however, was impossible. Though the garrison had suffered little, they could not carry their ammunition dry, nor drag the artillery over inundated fields. They could, therefore, do little more than give utterance to earnest wishes that ships expected with supplies from Madagascar might arrive while the British squadron was dispersed or driven from the coast. Even these wishes soon failed them, and with renewed despondency they saw their road again blockaded by eleven sail of the line, consisting chiefly of those which had weathered the storm, and others which had escaped it by being at the time at sea beyond its reach. The damaged works of the besiegers also were repaired, while the garrison were so pressed by want that, when they had by a well conceived and executed attack carried a redoubt and taken a considerable number of prisoners, Lally, to save the additional drain on his store of provisions, was obliged to make an open confession of approaching famine by sending them back on their parole.

On the 10th of January a battery of ten guns and three mortars opened its fire, and trenches were begun on the north side, just within the skirt of the Blancherie, or Bleaching Town, the houses of which afforded good cover; shortly after a battery was completed within 450 yards of the walls. The garrison scarcely attempted to interrupt these works. They saw their approaching fate, and seem to have thought it useless to attempt either to ward it off or to postpone it. Another battery was about to be commenced about 150 yards nearer the walls. It proved unnecessary. On the 15th, as the sun was setting, a flag was seen approaching from the town. It preceded a deputation, consisting of Colonel Durre, commandant of the royal artillery, Father Lavaur, superior of the Jesuits, and Moracin and Courtin, members of the council, with an interpreter. They were the bearers of two memorials, one signed by Lally, and the other by the governor and council. The one by Lally was very characteristic, both in its style and substance. As if he had been about to dictate terms, not to receive them, he set out with a long and irrelevant preamble, in which he asserted that the “English had taken Chandernagore against the faith of the treaties of neutrality which had always subsisted between the European nations in Bengal, and especially between the English and French;” and that “the government of Madras had refused to fulfil the conditions of a cartel concluded between the two crowns.” Owing to this conduct it was “out of his power, as responsible to the court of France, to propose any capitulation for the city of Pondicherry;” but “the troops of the king and company surrender themselves, for want of provisions, prisoners of war to his Britannic majesty, conformably to the terms of the cartel.” In consequence of this surrender “Mr. Coote may tomorrow morning at eight o’clock take possession of the Villenore gate; and on the same hour the next day of the gates of the citadel; and, as he has the force in his own hands, he may dictate such further conditions as he may think proper.” This, strictly speaking, finished Lally’s part in the surrender; but he continued as follows:—“From a principle of justice and humanity alone, I demand that the mother and sisters of Raja Sahib be permitted to seek an asylum wheresoever they shall think proper, or that they remain prisoners with the English, and be not delivered into the hands of Muhammed Ali Khan, still tinged with the blood of the Father and husband, which he shed, to the shame indeed of those who delivered up Chanda Sahib to him, but to the shame likewise of the commander of the English army, who ought not to have suffered such a barbarity to be committed in his camp.” Lally’s memorial concluded with his consent “that the members of the council of Pondicherry make their own representations on what may more immediately concern their particular interests, and those of the colony.”

The governor and council seem to have determined that if they did not obtain all they wished it would not be because they had omitted to ask for it. The requisitions of their memorial, accordingly, were of the following purport:—That the houses of the inhabitants be preserved, and “their effects and mercantile goods left to their own disposal;” that “in their favour the Roman Catholic religion was to be maintained; the churches, the houses of the ecclesiastics, and the religious orders, whether within or without the city, be preserved, with everything belonging to them; the missionaries be free to go and come, and receive under the English flag the same protection as they had under the French;” and that “no buildings or edifices, and no part of the fortifications be destroyed till the decision of their respective sovereigns.” Coote returned a written answer to Lally’s memorial, declining discussion on the subject of Chandernagore as irrelevant, or to be bound by a cartel which was still the subject of dispute, but offering to accept of the surrender at the time stated; the troops becoming prisoners of war, “to be treated at his discretion, which should not be without humanity.” As to the mother and sisters of Raja Sahib, they “should be escorted to Madras, where proper care should be taken for their safety, and they should not on any account be delivered into the hands of the Nabob Muhammed Ali.”

On the 16th of January the grenadiers of Coote’s regiment took possession of the Villenore gate; and in the evening Lally, who was apprehensive of tumult, anticipated the period fixed by delivering up the citadel. On the following morning the British flag was hoisted, and saluted by a thousand pieces of cannon, being those of every ship in the road, of all the posts and batteries, of the field artillery, and of the ramparts and defences of Pondicherry. There cannot be a doubt that the surrender was inevitable, as the provisions would not have sufficed for two days more. No fault could therefore be found with M. Lally for not protracting an impossible defence, and yet it was too evident that the inhabitants generally regarded him as the prime cause of their disaster, and would willingly have wreaked their vengeance upon him. On the third day after the surrender, when he was about to depart for Madras, about 100 persons, mostly officers, and also two members of council, assembled at the gate, and the moment he came out in his palanquin, assailed him with hisses, threats, and opprobrious epithets. Dubois, the king’s commissary, on coming out an hour after, was attacked in the same way. Stung at this reception, he stopped and said that he was ready to answer any one. The rash challenge was instantly accepted by a man of the name of Defer, who at the second pass laid him dead at his feet. It was a barbarous assassination, for Dubois was an old man and short-sighted; and yet such was the feeling of the bystanders that his death was regarded as a meritorious act, and not one of them would assist his servants in burying him. There is reason to believe that this inhumanity was, at least in some of those who manifested it, the result not merely of personal hatred. Dubois was known to have taken formal protests against the abuses and irregularities which he had detected in the leading officials, and meant to submit them to the home government. That the knowledge of this fact had something to do with his assassination may, without any want of charity, be inferred from the conduct of the registrar, who, the moment the old man fell, came forward and seized his papers. They were never heard of afterwards.

The total number of European military taken in the town amounted to 2,072; the civil inhabitants were 381; the artillery fit for service were 500 pieces of cannon and 100 mortars and howitzers. The arms, ammunition, and military stores were in equal abundance. Great were the rejoicings at Madras on account of this most important capture; but amid all these rejoicings a delicate question arose, and threatened to mar the harmony between the civil and the military authorities. To whom did Pondicherry belong? It was surrendered by Lally to his Britannic majesty, and so accepted by Coote. Mr. Pigott understood the matter differently; and on the fourth day after the surrender demanded that Pondicherry should be delivered over to the Madras presidency, as having become the property of the English East India Company. Coote demurred, and submitted the demand to a council of war, composed of the leading officers of the army and navy engaged in the capture. Their opinion was that the demand could not be maintained; but Mr. Pigott, when he found argument unavailing, cut the matter short, by intimating that if Pondicherry were not delivered the presidency would not furnish money for the pay of the king’s troops, or the subsistence of the French prisoners. As there was no other source from which the necessary funds could be drawn, the council of war had no alternative but to yield the point under protest.

The war which the British and French carried on in India had from the first been truly a war of extermination. The existence of the two nations there as independent rival powers was deemed impossible, and both therefore saw that one or other must perish. Accordingly, when Lally sailed from France at the head of an expedition which anticipated nothing but a series of triumphs, he was instructed by his government to destroy any British maritime possession in India that should fall into his hands. These instructions were intercepted, and furnished a plausible ground for retaliating the barbarous policy which they enjoined. The presidency of Madras, therefore, as soon as Pondicherry was delivered over to them, issued orders for the demolition of its fortifications. They were speedily obeyed, and the citadel and all the other defences were converted into heaps of ruins.

With the fall of Pondicherry the French power in India was to all intents annihilated; but three places of some importance still remained to be reduced—the settlement of Mahe, on the Malabar coast, and the forts of Gingi and Thiagur in the Carnatic. Mahe, situated seven miles south-east of Tellicherry, occupied a height at the mouth of a stream which descends from the Western Ghats. In its immediate vicinity are several hills. Two of them, like itself on the south bank of the stream, were crowned with small forts, but its chief defence was Fort St. George, occupying a larger hill on the other bank. The only dependencies of Mahe were five small forts situated at some distance to the north, and a factory at Calicut. In the beginning of January, 1761, several vessels from England had landed troops at Tellicherry, to be employed in the reduction of Mahe; but as it lies within the limits of the Bombay presidency, it was necessary to have their authority before attacking it, and this authority did not arrive before the beginning of February. The interval was diligently employed by the governor in forming alliances with the neighbouring chiefs. Their assistance was absolutely necessary, for the whole European military available for defence did not exceed 100, while their assailants, under Major Hector Monro, amounted to 900 European and 700 native troops. Though the chiefs had promised liberally, when the push came not a single man appeared; and the governor counted himself fortunate when, instead of being obliged to surrender at discretion, he effected a capitulation, which in addition to other advantages secured to the garrison the full honours of war, and their conveyance at British expense to the Isle of Bourbon or to Europe. Gingi had been previously invested by Captain Stephen Smith with eight companies of sepoys. It was commanded by one of Lally’s officers of the name of Macgregor, who, on being summoned, answered, that even if besieged by 100,000 men the forts could not be reduced in three years. His garrison consisted only of 150 Europeans, 600 sepoys, and 1,000 Colleries, or natives of the adjoining hills; but he believed the mountains to be impregnable, and displayed a security which would not have been justifiable even if they were really so. He paid the penalty, and one of his impregnable forts was scaled and taken by surprise. This, however, was only a partial success, for the two strongest forts still held out, and had a powerful auxiliary in the deadly nature of the climate, under which the sepoys, though 1,000 had been added to their number, were rapidly melting away. Macgregor, however, after all his blustering, lost heart, and offered to capitulate. The terms, though somewhat extravagant, were readily conceded, and on the 5th of April he marched out with all the honours of war. Thiagur, which had returned to the French after their alliance with the Mysoreans was broken up, shared the same fate, after a blockade and bombardment of sixty-five days by Major Preston. Though there was little prospect of reducing it except by famine, the governor capitulated, with two months’ provisions still in store; and as if unconscious of the advantages of his position, only asked to receive the same treatment as the troops taken in Pondicherry.

The fate of Lally deserves to be recorded. His unpopularity in India preceded his arrival in France; and though with the consciousness of injured innocence he took the initiative, and brought formal accusations against the leading officials to whose negligence and misconduct he attributed the disasters in which his command had terminated, he soon found himself put upon his own defence. The arrogance of his manner and the intemperance of his language had raised up a host of enemies, who assailed him with venomous tongues, and brought all sorts of railing accusations against him. These were received by the government with willing ears. The loss of India, after all the sanguine hopes which had been entertained, had filled the public mind with astonishment and indignation; and ministers behaved either to bear the responsibility or transfer it from their own to some other shoulders. There was no difficulty in selecting the victim, and Lally was confined in the Bastile. Father Lavaur, the Jesuit, whom we have seen forming part of a deputation at the surrender of Pondicherry, had returned to France and died. Among his papers were found two documents, the one a fulsome panegyric, the other a defamatory libel on Lally. Considered as evidence, the documents could only neutralize each other; but there were circumstances in Lavaur’s conduct which ought to have thrown the balance in Lally’s favour. Not only was the Jesuit known to be a bitter hater, but also an unscrupulous liar. As if ruined by the capture of Pondicherry, he had petitioned the government for a small pension as a means of subsistence, and yet he had died worth £60,000, in gold, diamonds, and bills of exchange. The evidence of such a man was worthless; and yet it was shamelessly paraded before the public, doubtless with the view of exciting antipathy if it could not establish guilt. After lying eighteen months in the Bastile, Lally was confronted with his accusers, but betrayed his old haughty and intractable spirit to such a degree as not only to exasperate the witnesses, but to prejudice the judge appointed to report on the case. Under such circumstances the result could not be doubtful. Then, as now, a trial in despotic France, when political ends were to be gained by a conviction, was a mere mockery. After the lapse of other eighteen months, the case was ripe for decision, and the parliament of Paris were subservient enough to do what the court expected of them. They found the accused guilty of having betrayed the interests of the king, the state, and the East India Company, and condemned him to be attainted and beheaded. Before the sentence was made known he was taken before the court, degraded from his military rank, stripped of his military orders, and then removed, not to the Bastile, which was now considered too honourable a place for him, but to the common criminal jail. When the sentence was read to him he threw up his hands to heaven, and exclaimed, “Is this the reward of forty-five years’ service!” and snatching up a pair of compasses which lay with some maps on a table, he made an attempt to pierce his heart. He failed, and was doomed to drink the bitter cup to the dregs. That very afternoon he was taken out of prison with a large gag in his mouth, to prevent him from addressing the spectators, carried in a common cart to the Place de Greve, and there beheaded. He was in the sixty-fifth year of his age. Three men of note—Labourdonnais, Dupleix, and Lally—had thus been judicially murdered in order to divert the public hatred from the incompetent and corrupt officials of the French East India Company. Can it be doubted that an institution which called for such monstrous sacrifices more than deserved all the calamities which had fallen upon it?

In following out the course of events in the Carnatic, we have been led away from the not less important events which, during the same period, had occurred in Bengal, and were beginning, after the first excitement was over, to unfold their true character.