The Council were desirous of getting Toolajee into their own custody, fearful that, if left in Mahratta hands, he would be set free before long, and the work would have to be done over again.
Before the expedition left Bombay, a council of war was held, to decide on the division of spoils, between the sea and land forces. Such agreements were common enough, on such occasions, in order to prevent subsequent disputes and individual plundering. In settling the shares of the officers, the council decided that Clive and Chalmers, who was next to Clive in command of the troops, should have shares equal to that of two captains of King's ships. To this Clive objected that, though as Lieutenant-Colonel, his share would, according to custom, be equal to that of a naval captain, on this occasion, as Commander-in-Chief of the troops, it should be greater, and ought not to be less than that of Rear-Admiral Pocock. The council of war refused to agree to this, as the naval officers, who formed the majority, could not be brought to consent. Like Drake, who would rather diminish his own portion than leave any of his people unsatisfied, Watson undertook to 'give the Colonel such a part of his share as will make it equal to Rear-Admiral Pocock's;' and this was duly entered in the proceedings.
In the division of spoils, no mention is made of their Mahratta allies. They were left out of account altogether, and the reason is not far to seek. Experience had shown that, in the coming military operations, the Mahrattas would count for nothing. All the hard knocks would fall on the English, and it was but fair that they should have the prize-money; the Mahrattas would gain a substantial benefit in the possession of Gheriah, which was to be made over to them after capture.
The arrangements for the command of the troops showed that the lessons of the last ten years of warfare against the French had borne fruit. The command was left to those who made it their profession. Henceforth we hear no more of factors and writers strutting about in uniform, calling themselves colonels and captains for a few weeks, and then returning to their ledgers. We have done with the Midfords and the Browns. Out of the thirteen years he had served the Company, Clive had been a soldier for eleven. He had definitely abandoned his civil position, and had embraced a military career, and his merits had been recognized by the grant of a Lieutenant-Colonel's commission from the King. The subordinate military officers also had improved. The worst of them had been weeded out, and many of them had learned their business under Lawrence in the Carnatic. Though much unnecessary interference still went on in quarters, they were left unfettered in the command of their men in the field.
A few hours after leaving Bombay, the expedition was overtaken by despatches from Bourchier, with intelligence that the Mahrattas were treating with Toolajee. On reaching Gheriah, they found the Mahratta army encamped against it, and Ramajee Punt himself came off to tell the commanders that, with a little patience, the fort would surrender without firing a shot, as Toolajee was already in their hands and ready to treat. Alarmed at the great armament coming against him, and cowed by recent reverses, Toolajee had come as a suppliant into the Mahratta camp to try if, by finesse and chicanery, he might escape utter destruction, while, in Gheriah, he had left his brother-in-law with orders to defend it to the last. The Peishwa's officers, on their side, were anxious to get the place into their hands without admitting the English to any share of the booty; a design that was at once seen through by Hough and Watson. Ramajee promised to bring Toolajee with him the following day, to show that he was not treating separately. Instead of doing so, he sent some subordinate officers, together with some of Toolajee's relations, with excuses, to keep Watson in play, while a large bribe was offered to Hough to induce him to persuade the Admiral to suspend operations. Watson, who had already summoned the fort to surrender, let them know that he would not wait very long. They were taken to view the ship with its tiers of heavy guns, and, as a grim hint of what might be expected, he presented Toolajee's friends with a thirty-two pound shot as they left the ship.
At half-past one in the afternoon, the flag of truce having returned with the Governor's refusal to surrender, signal was made to weigh, and the whole fleet stood into the harbour in three divisions, led by the Kingsfisher, sloop, and the Bridgewater. The inner line, nearest to the fort was formed by the line-of-battle ships and the Protector: the Company's grabs and bombketches, with the Guardian, formed the second line, while the gallivats and small vessels formed a third, outer line. As the Kingsfisher came opposite the fort, a shot was fired at her. The signal was made to engage, and as each ship reached its station it came to an anchor, the inner line being within musket-shot of the fort. Across the mouth of the river, Toolajee's grabs were drawn up, among them being the Restoration, the capture of which, six years before, had caused so much heart-burning in Bombay. As the heavy shot and shell came pouring in from over one hundred and fifty guns at close range, the Gheriah defenders manfully strove to repay the same with interest. But so terrific was the fire brought to bear on them, that it was impossible for them to lay their guns properly. In that February afternoon many a cruel outrage was expiated under that hail of iron. After two hours' firing, a shell set the Restoration on fire; it spread to the grabs, and before long the Angrian fleet,[3] that had been the terror of the coast for half a century, was in a blaze. The boats were ordered out, and, as evening came on, Clive was put on shore with the troops, and took up a position a mile and a half from the fort. The Mahrattas joined him, and Toolajee, from whom the Peishwa's people had extorted a promise to surrender the fort, found means to send a letter into the place, warning his brother-in-law against surrender to the English. In the fort all was terror and dismay, though the Governor manfully did his duty. From the burning shipping the flames spread to the bazaars and warehouses. All night the bombketches threw in shells, while the conflagration continued. One square tower in the fort burned with such violence as to resemble a fabric of red-hot iron in a smithy.
Early next morning, Watson sent in a flag of truce again, but surrender was still refused, so the line-of-battle ships were warped in and recommenced firing; while Clive, who had approached the fort, battered it from the land side. At four in the afternoon a magazine in the fort blew up, and a white flag was hoisted. An officer was sent on shore, but the Governor still attempted to evade surrender. He consented to admit five or six men into the fort to hoist English colours, but would not definitely surrender possession till next day. So fire was reopened, and in twenty minutes more the Angrian flag was hauled down for the last time, and the last shred of Angrian independence had ceased to exist.
Sixty men, under Captains Forbes and Buchanan, were marched up to hold the gate for the night. A body of the Peishwa's troops tried to gain admission, and offered the officers a bill on Bombay for a lakh of rupees to allow them to pass in. The offer was rejected, but the Peishwa's officer still continued to press in, till Forbes faced his men about, and, drawing his sword, swore he would cut him down if he persisted.
The following morning, the fort was taken possession of by Clive. The success had been gained at the cost of about twenty men killed and wounded.
Ramajee Punt at once made a formal demand for the fort to be given up to him. Watson, in return, demanded that Toolajee should be made over into English custody. Meanwhile, a hunt for the treasure secreted in different places went on. "Every day hitherto has been productive of some new discoveries of treasure, plate, and jewels, etc.," wrote Hough three days later. Altogether about one hundred and thirty thousand pounds' worth of gold, silver, and jewels were secured, and divided between the land and sea forces. True to his promise, Watson sent Clive a thousand pounds to make his share equal to Pocock's. Clive sent it back again. He was satisfied with the acknowledgment of his claim, but would not take what came out of Watson's private purse. "Thus did these two gallant officers endeavour to outvie each other in mutual proofs of disinterestedness and generosity," wrote Ives in his narrative. A thousand pounds was a larger sum then than it would be now, and Clive was a poor man at the time, but he was never greedy of money. The incident justifies his boast, long afterwards, of his moderation when the treasures of Bengal were at his mercy. It is allowable to suppose that it strengthened the mutual respect of both, and facilitated their co-operation in Bengal, a year later. It was a fortunate thing for England that Watson was not a man of Matthews' stamp.