So at last there had come a man able to deal with the bloodthirsty savage Moors and their prince as they deserved; and a new page was turned over in the history of Bengal. And but for the anxiety that continually harassed my mind as to the fate of those two whom I had left in Moorshedabad, I mean Marian and my cousin, who, in spite of many crimes, had at last done something to atone for his past misconduct; but for this, the time which followed would have been full of satisfaction. For I was now to witness the closing acts of that great historic drama of which I have already chronicled the commencement. I was to assist at the execution of justice on a great malefactor, and to see his victims repaid a hundredfold for the injuries they had suffered at his hands.
I had arrived in the English camp just in time to take part in the first of those celebrated operations by which the disgraceful surrender of Fort William was to be redeemed, and the English name was to be so signally advanced throughout the East Indies. Colonel Clive had despatched the letter he spoke of, to demand redress from the Nabob, but its language was so high and peremptory that Monichund, the Nabob’s governor in Fort William, returned it, saying that he dared not transmit it to his master. Thereupon Mr. Clive, not sorry to have an excuse for hostilities, ordered an immediate advance on Calcutta.
The total number of troops employed on this memorable expedition was a little more than two thousand, of whom the most part were Telingies, or Sepoys, the English troops being between six and seven hundred. Most of these were Company’s soldiers, though we had about one hundred men of Adlercron’s regiment from Madras. We had also two field-pieces; the rest had been lost through the unfortunate grounding of the Cumberland outside the river. To this force was afterwards added a body of three hundred seamen from the ships, as I shall presently relate. This little army under Colonel Clive marched slowly up the bank of the Hooghley, while Admiral Watson followed and escorted us with his fleet.
On the second afternoon we lay at a place called Mayapore, between which and Calcutta, on the river’s edge, stood the strong place of Budge-Budge, or Buz-Buzia as it is written by the learned. The Admiral had announced his intention of sailing up to attack this fort on the next day with the guns of the ships, and in order to prevent the garrison escaping Mr. Clive decided to march round during the night, and lay an ambush in the rear of the fort.
Accordingly we marched out of Mayapore about sunset, and were conducted by some Indian guides inland through a part of the country much broken up by swamps and watercourses, which made our progress so excessively tedious that it was not till the following sunrise that we arrived at the place appointed for the ambush. This was a hollow in the plain, where there was a deserted village, the hollow being surrounded by banks covered with thickets which, it was supposed, would conceal our presence from the enemy. The troops by this time being quite worn out, Colonel Clive gave them leave to lay down their arms and repose themselves, and so eagerly was the permission availed of that not a single sentinel was posted to give notice of the enemy’s approach.
I was with Mr. Clive himself, who had allowed me to accompany him as a sort of military secretary, Mr. Scrafton not being a soldier. We lay down side by side, and I for one had no sooner closed my eyes than I fell asleep. But the very next moment, as it seemed to me, I awoke with a start, to the sound of a battle going on around me.
I sprang to my feet and took in the whole scene. A whole Indian army appeared to have surrounded the sleeping camp. The banks of the hollow were lined with swarthy troops, armed with matchlocks, from which they poured a steady fire upon our bewildered men, just roused from slumber, and groping in confusion after their arms. On an eminence a short way behind I espied an officer, whom I took to be Monichund himself, seated on an elephant, issuing orders to his troops. Our two field-pieces stood deserted in the way of the enemy, who advanced to take them, while the terrified artillerymen ran for shelter among the troops of the line. Our position looked desperate, and I turned anxiously to Colonel Clive to see what he would do.
Mr. Clive had sprung to his feet at the same moment with myself. For a moment he stood in an attitude of stern attention, his hands clenched, his lips compressed, and his eyes darting from point to point over the field. The next instant his voice rang out like the sound of a trumpet.
“Steady! Form in line! Face this way! Captain Campbell, form your men on the right. Captain Coote, take yours to the left. Where is Kilpatrick?”