Meanwhile the news of the brilliant enterprise had spread far and wide; had brought hope to the defenders of Trichinopoli, and alarm and irritation to Chánda Sáhib and his French allies. More even than that. The important kingdom of Mysore, the ruler of which had been long pressed by the rival combatants, declared now in favour of Muhammad Alí, and sent an army under its Dalwai (Prime Minister) to assist him. The native chiefs who ruled the territories which connected the beleaguered town with the eastern coast followed the example of Mysore;—an enormous gain, for it ensured the safety of the English convoys from the coast. Greatly impressed with these defections, Chánda Sáhib at once despatched 3000 of his best troops to join the forces which his son, Rájá Sáhib, was commanding in North Arcot. There they would be joined by 150 Frenchmen. One of Clive's objects had thus been already attained. The capture of Arcot had enormously weakened the enemy's attack: had more than proportionately increased the strength of the defence of Trichinopoli.
The eyes of India south of the great Vindhyan range were now turned upon Arcot. Upon its successful or unsuccessful defence depended the future in India of the two European nations which, though nominally at peace, were warring desperately against each other. The siege began on the 23rd of September. It was characterized by extraordinary tenacity, great daring, infinite powers of resource, on the part of Clive and the defenders. The sipáhís vied with the English alike in courage and in capacity to withstand fatigue, hunger, and thirst. Their self-denial, displayed when they insisted that the water which was brought to them under much difficulty should be offered first to their European comrades, went the round of the world. It gave evidence of the cordiality which was to exist for a century, and to be renewed in 1861-2 under conditions more favourable than ever. At length, after more than seven weeks of continuous pounding, the breach became practicable. The rumour that the great Maráthá soldier, Morári Ráo, was approaching the place to lend a hand to Clive, determined Rájá Sáhib to utilize his advantage without delay. On the 14th of November he sent every available man to the breach. The garrison, enfeebled though they were by privations, few in number from their losses, separated by the necessities of the defence, met their assailants with a courage as stern, a resolution as dogged, as that which, in difficult circumstances, English soldiers have always displayed. After an hour's fierce fighting, in which the French took no part, the besiegers fell back, beaten, baffled, and humiliated. At two o'clock that afternoon they begged to be allowed to bury their dead. At two o'clock the following morning they disappeared in the direction of Vellore.
Thus ended the siege of Arcot. It had lasted fifty days. The manner in which it ended gave the English, and especially the English leader, a prestige which had an enormous effect on the campaigns that followed. What a great thing this much-abused 'prestige' is in India was illustrated by the fact that the minds of the native princes and peoples all over the southern part of the peninsula turned to Clive as to a master whom they would follow to the death. He inverted the positions of the two nations, confounded by his brilliant action the schemes of Dupleix, and, very soon afterwards, was able to impose his will, representing the will of the English nation, upon all the native princes who ruled or reigned in the territories of Haidarábád and the Karnátik.
For—another great feature in the character of this man—Clive never left a work half-finished. The blow, he felt, was weak and paltry unless it were driven home. So he felt, so he acted, on this occasion. On the 19th he took Timerí, the fort which had before baffled him. Joined then by Morári Ráo with 1000 Maráthá horsemen, he marched on Arni, seventeen miles south of Arcot, to attack Rájá Sáhib, who had taken post there with the army which had lately besieged him, reinforced by French troops just arrived from Pondicherry. The superiority in numbers of the force of Rájá Sáhib was so great that, when he noted the approach of Clive, he turned to meet him. Clive halted where he was. He had recognized that his position was excellent for defence, covered in front by rice-fields impracticable for guns, on the right by a village, and on the left by a grove of palm-trees. There he ranged his troops to meet the threatened attack.
It came very quickly, for the space between the two forces was but 300 yards. The enemy had discovered a narrow causeway leading across the marshy ground to the village on Clive's right. Heralding their approach with an advance of cavalry, they directed a portion of their horsemen to assail the village on the right; another portion to drive Morári Ráo from the grove; whilst the main body of the infantry should cross the causeway. The last-named was a dangerous operation in the face of a man like Clive, for whilst the narrowness of the causeway rendered the advance slow, it gave time to Clive to concentrate upon it the fire of his guns. And this he did. For a time the French, who led the attack, marched boldly. At length they came under the full fire of the guns. It was the story of the bridge of Arcola, but there was no Bonaparte to lead them on. They hesitated, halted, then fell back with precipitation; and, quitting the causeway, formed on the rice-fields, almost touching the cavalry on their left, who were fighting fiercely to gain an entrance into the village. This was the supreme moment, and Clive's genius utilized it to the utmost. Whilst the enemy were busily engaged on the right and left, their centre still reeling under the losses sustained on the causeway, he detached a body of English soldiers into the village, directing them to seize the head of the causeway, and, traversing it rapidly with a portion of the sipáhís, to dash on the enemy's centre, and seize their guns. Well was he served. No sooner did the enemy perceive the English on the causeway than a panic struck their centre, and they hastened to fall back. The panic communicated itself to the two wings, already severely handled; they too let go their hold, and turned to follow their comrades. True to the principle referred to in a preceding page, Clive pressed them hardly, not staying pursuit until darkness rendered it fruitless. The record of this, his first real battle, fought against more than double his numbers, was a splendid one. Whilst his own losses were but eight sipáhís of his own force, and some fifty horsemen of his Maráthá allies, there were killed or wounded fifty Frenchmen and about three times that number of the natives. Whilst the English had fought mostly under cover, the enemy had had the disadvantage of being exposed, especially on the causeway.
Fit sequel to the defence of Arcot was this fight at Arni. It dispersed the army of Rájá Sáhib, caused many of his soldiers, always in the East inclined to side with the strongest, to desert to the victors; it induced the ruler of the fort of Arni to declare for Muhammad Alí; and it deprived the enemy of their military chest. From its field Clive marched rapidly on Kanchípuram, took possession, after a short siege, of the strong pagoda which, meanwhile, had been seized by the enemy; then, having placed in Arcot a sufficient garrison, returned to Madras, thence to Fort St. David, having carried out to the letter the programme he had submitted at the latter place to Governor Saunders.
Well had he done it. The army of Chánda Sáhib, doubled up by the terrible blow struck in the very centre of his possessions, still indeed held the position before Trichinopoli, but, from an enemy confident, boastful, certain of ultimate success, he had become an enemy timid, irresolute, doubtful of the issue, shrinking from his own shadow. The prestige gained by the young Englishman paralyzed his vitality. It required apparently but one more blow to complete his demoralization. The one condition of that blow was that it must be struck quickly, suddenly, before the enemy should have time to recover. Considerations such as these, we may be sure, formed the staple of the conversations at Fort St. David between the young captain and the Governor after the return of the former from Arcot.