Rulers of India: Lord Clive

by G. B. Malleson

On the flight of Murtizá Alí becoming known the army proclaimed Saiyud Muhammad Khán, the son of Safdar Alí, then residing at Madras under the protection of the English, to be Nawáb. The young prince and his mother were at once removed to the fort of Wandiwash, the ruler of which had married his father's sister.

It was this moment that Nizám-ul-Múlk chose as the time to intervene. Entering Arcot at the head of a large army (March, 1743) he completely pacified the province; then, marching on Trichinopoli, compelled the Maráthás to yield it and to evacuate the Karnátik. Possessing himself of the person of the newly proclaimed Nawáb, whom he declined to recognize, he proclaimed his own commander-in-chief, Khojá Abdullah, to be Nawáb of the Karnátik, and then returned to Golconda.

Unfortunately for the peace of the province Khojá Abdullah, a strong man, never took up the government of the Karnátik. He had returned with his master to Golconda, and had made there his preparations to set out. On the very morning which he had chosen for that purpose he was found dead in his bed. It was clear that he had been poisoned. Suspicion fell at once upon the nobleman who had originally been an urgent candidate for the office, and who now obtained it. He was an experienced soldier of good family, whose name was Anwar-ud-dín.

Nizám-ul-Múlk knew that the appointment would not be popular in the province so long as there should remain alive any member of the family of Saádat-ullá. He had therefore announced that the appointment of Anwar-ud-dín was provisional, and that the young prince, Saiyud Muhammad, already proclaimed Nawáb, should succeed to that post on his arriving at the age of manhood, remaining during the interval under the guardianship of Anwar-ud-dín, to be by him instructed in the art of governing. Anwar-ud-dín promised to carry out the will of his liege lord, and on his arrival in the Karnátik, assigned to the young prince the fort of Arcot, with a sufficient retinue of Patán soldiers. There the boy remained, treated with the deference due to his position.

But he was doomed. A few weeks after his arrival at Arcot it devolved upon him to preside at the wedding of one of his near relations. Amongst those who came to the ceremony was the murderer of his father, Murtizá Alí, laden with presents for the bridegroom. Strange as it may seem, the murderer was courteously received. But shortly after his entrance within the fort an unseemly disturbance was created by the disorderly entrance into the presence of thirteen Patán soldiers, who insolently demanded payment of the arrears they alleged to be due to them. With some difficulty they were forcibly ejected. But in the evening, as Anwar-ud-dín approached, attended by his courtiers and preceded by his guards, these thirteen Patáns managed to mingle with the latter, and one of them, rushing towards the daïs on which was the chair occupied by the young prince, ascended the steps leading to it, and, in a supplicatory attitude, made as though he would throw himself at his feet and demand pardon for the offence of the morning. But instead of this he plunged his dagger, which he had concealed on his person, into the prince's heart. He was almost instantly cut down by the attendants. The confusion was extreme. Suddenly it was discovered that Murtizá Alí had quitted the fort, had mounted his horse, and, accompanied by his armed followers, had galloped towards Vellore. Suspicion naturally fell upon this proved murderer, and the nobles generally endeavoured to exculpate themselves at his expense.

But suspicion fell likewise upon Anwar-ud-dín. Who, so much as he, would benefit by the death of Saiyud Muhammad? He was practically only guardian to the young prince, bound to resign his office as soon as the latter should attain his majority. Nor were these suspicions lessened when it was found that Nizám-ul-Múlk at once transmitted to Anwar-ud-dín a complete commission as Nawáb of Arcot. Vainly did the Nawáb deny all complicity in the bloody deed. Murtizá Alí was silent. 'It was supposed,' wrote Mr. Orme, 'that the only proofs he could have brought against Anwar-ud-dín would at the same time have condemned himself.' And this probably was true.

Such then was the political position in Southern India when Clive landed at Madras in 1744. The titular Emperor of Delhi was Muhammad Sháh, still reeling under the consequences of the invasion of Nadír Sháh and the sack of Delhi but five short years previously. The Súbahdár of the Deccan was still Nizám-ul-Múlk, possessing sufficient influence to have secured the succession in Southern India for his second son, Nasír Jang.¹ The Nawáb of the Karnátik, styled officially, of Arcot, was a stranger to the province, the unpopular and suspected Anwar-ud-dín. His authority there was not very secure. There were many pretenders waiting for the first mishap: amongst them his confederate in the murder of Saiyud Muhammad; Chánda Sáhib, still in confinement at Sátára; and many others. The elements of danger abounded everywhere. There were few petty chiefs who did not dub themselves 'Nawábs,' and aspire to positions higher than those held by them at the moment. The match alone was wanting to produce a general flame.

¹ Elliot's History of India as told by its own Historians, vol. viii. p. 113.

Under ordinary circumstances this state of affairs would not necessarily have affected the European settlers on the coast. But for them, too, the crisis was approaching. In 1740 the death of the Emperor, Charles VI, had thrown the greater part of Europe into a blaze. Three years later England had entered the field as an upholder of the Pragmatic Sanction. The news of this intervention, which necessitated war with France, reached India towards the close of 1744, and immediately affected the relations towards one another of the rival settlements on the Coromandel coast.