A History of the British Army, Vol. 2 / First Part—to the Close of the Seven Years' War

by Sir J. W. Fortescue

Sept. 24 Oct. 5.
Sept. 25 Oct. 6.
Oct. 30 Nov. 10.
Nov. 13 24 .
Nov. 14 25 .

On the very next day Clive made a bold sally with the object of driving the enemy from the town, but was driven back with the loss, very serious in view of his numbers, of two officers and thirty-one European soldiers killed and wounded. On the morrow the besiegers received further reinforcement, which raised their numbers to eleven thousand natives and one hundred and fifty Europeans; whereas Clive's garrison was by this time reduced to six score Europeans and two hundred Sepoys only. A fortnight later the enemy's battering train arrived, and on the 10th of November, a practicable breach having been made in the walls, Raju Sahib summoned Clive to surrender. He was answered by a message of contemptuous defiance; but knowing that the supplies of the fort were running low, he hesitated to storm, in the hope of reducing the garrison by starvation. Meanwhile, however, Governor Saunders was pushing forward reinforcements, and had induced the Mahrattas, under the redoubtable Morari Rao, to throw in their lot with the British. Intelligence of this last put an end to Raju Sahib's inaction, and on the 24th of November he laid his plans for an assault. The day chosen was the festival of the brothers Hassan and Hussein, an anniversary on which Mohammedan fanaticism is inflamed always to its fiercest heat. Fortunately Clive had been warned by a spy of the intended attack, and had made such preparations as he could by training cannon on to the breach, and keeping relays of muskets loaded for the maintenance of a continuous fire. At dawn the enemy's troops swarmed up to the breach, while elephants, with their heads armoured by plates of iron, were brought forward to batter down the gates. But the fire of the British was too hot and deadly to be endured, and the elephants, galled by wounds, swerved back and trampled all around them under foot. Once only the storming-party seemed likely to gain ground, and then Clive, taking personal charge of one of the field-guns, dispersed them effectively with three or four rounds. After maintaining the attack for an hour the enemy fell back defeated. The French for some reason held aloof, and the bravest of the native leaders were killed. How hot the affair was while it lasted may be judged from the fact that Clive's garrison, though reduced to eighty Europeans and one hundred and twenty Sepoys, expended twelve thousand cartridges during the assault. The loss of the defenders was but six killed and wounded; that of the enemy was reckoned at not less than four hundred. On the following day Raju Sahib raised the siege and marched away, abandoning several guns and a great quantity of ammunition; and Clive was left in Arcot triumphant. The siege had lasted fifty days and had cost the little garrison one-fourth of its number in killed alone, besides a still greater number wounded; but this was no heavy price to pay for the re-establishment of British prestige. The feast of Hassan and Hussein may justly be accounted the birthday of our empire in India.

On the evening of the day of the assault Clive was joined by a reinforcement of men and of four guns, which enabled him, after leaving a garrison in the fort, to take the field with two hundred Europeans and seven hundred Sepoys. Raju Sahib's army had in great measure disbanded itself during his retreat, none remaining with him except his small party of French and the men which he had brought with him from Trichinopoly. With these he retired westward to Vellore. There a reinforcement from Pondicherry increased the number of his French to three hundred, while the successful repulse of a rash attack of Mahrattas had served to raise the spirits of his troops. But Clive, though inferior in numbers, was not the man to let them escape scot free. Picking up six hundred Mahratta horsemen he made a forced march in pursuit of them and caught them as they were about to cross the river Arnee. The enemy could show three hundred Europeans against two hundred, fifteen hundred Sepoys against seven hundred, and three thousand native levies against the Mahratta horse; but they were out-manœuvred and defeated, with the loss of fifty Europeans, thrice as many natives, and the whole of their artillery, while Clive's loss did not exceed eight Sepoys and fifty Mahrattas. After this action Clive marched on Conjeveram, captured it after a siege of three days and dismantled the fort. Then, having thrown a strong garrison into Arcot, he returned at the end of December to Fort St. David to concert measures for the relief of Trichinopoly.

1752.
Feb. 2 13 .
Feb. 3 14 .

No sooner was his back turned than the scattered levies of Raju Sahib reassembled; and having first restored the defences of Conjeveram and thrown a garrison into it to cut off communication between Madras and Arcot, ravaged the country to within a few miles of Madras itself. This diversion, which was brought about at the instigation of Dupleix, had the effect which he desired. The preparations for the relief of Trichinopoly were suspended, and on the 13th of February Clive marched from Madras with three hundred and eighty Europeans and thirteen hundred Sepoys, together with six guns; the troops being drawn in great part from the garrison at Arcot. The enemy, though superior in strength of Europeans and very far superior in native troops and artillery, would not await his coming, but retired to an entrenched camp at Vendalore, about five-and-twenty miles south-westward of Madras. Clive hurried after them, but arriving at Vendalore at three o'clock in the afternoon found that they had disappeared, no one knew whither. A few hours later he received certain information that they were gone to Conjeveram. It was now nine o'clock in the evening, and the men had already marched twenty-five miles on that day, but Clive without a moment's hesitation called them out for another forced march, and by four o'clock next morning had reached Conjeveram. The garrison of the fort surrendered at the first summons, but gave the bad news that the enemy had marched on Arcot. Clive's troops were too much exhausted to follow them at once, but at noon the march was resumed. At sunset Clive had reached Covrepauk, sixteen miles on his road, when his advanced guard was surprised by a sudden fire of nine field-guns upon its right flank. The enemy, failing in their design against the fort of Arcot, had retraced their steps by a forced march and laid an ambush for Clive; and Clive, quite unsuspectingly, had marched straight into it.

The position taken up by the enemy was well fitted for their purpose. About a furlong to the north of the road, or on the right of Clive as he advanced, was a dense grove of mango-trees covered in front by a ditch and a bank; and here were stationed the nine field-guns of the French with a body of infantry in support. On Clive's left, or to the south of the road, and about one hundred and fifty yards from it ran a dry water-course, in the bed of which troops were well sheltered from fire; and here was massed the remainder of the enemy's infantry. Between the road and the water-course and beyond the water-course to the southward was drawn up the enemy's cavalry, some two thousand in all, ready to bar the British advance to the front or to sweep round upon their rear. The peril of Clive's position, already formidable enough, was enhanced by his inferiority in numbers, for the French could match four hundred Europeans against his three hundred and eighty, and two thousand Sepoys against his eighteen hundred; while against their two thousand horsemen Clive could not produce a man. Without losing his presence of mind for an instant Clive at once brought up three of his field-guns to reply to the French artillery, ordered the main body of his infantry to take shelter in the water-course, directed the baggage to be drawn back for half a mile with one gun and a small guard to defend it, and posted his two remaining guns, with forty Europeans and two hundred Sepoys, to the south of the water-course to check the enemy's cavalry. The rapidity with which he grasped the situation, surprised as he was in the waning light, and the readiness with which he made his dispositions to meet the danger, suffice in themselves to distinguish Clive as a man almost unmatched for steadfastness and resource.

Meanwhile the sun went down, and the moon shone cold and white to light the combatants to battle. In the water-course the French infantry, six abreast, encountered the English, and exchanged a savage fire at close range; but both sides, worn out with long marching, recoiled from a fight with the bayonet. On the other flank the British gunners, though outnumbered by three to one, stood to their guns and fell by them under the ceaseless rain of fire from the French pieces. And all the time the enemy's cavalry careered restlessly backward and forward, now pressing on the guns to the south of the water-course, now swooping on the infantry that guarded them, now making a dash upon the baggage, but never charging home, for they dared not face the white man. So the combat went fitfully on for three full hours under the silver moon, but the red flashes never ceased to leap from the shadow of the grove, and the British artillerymen were at last so much thinned that there were scarce enough of them to work the guns. It was plain that unless the French battery could be silenced the battle was lost. Clive bethought him that the mango-grove, though protected by the ditch in front, might be open in the rear, and sent a native sergeant round to reconnoitre. The sergeant returned to report that the rear of the battery was unguarded; and Clive, withdrawing two hundred of the British from the water-course, marched off stealthily at their head, with the sergeant for his guide. Like Cromwell at Dunbar he wished to direct the turning movement that was to decide the day; but no sooner was he gone than the troops in the water-course began to waver. The whole of them ceased firing and prepared for flight: some of them, indeed, did actually make off. Perforce Clive returned to rally them and appointed Lieutenant Keene to command the turning movement in his place.

Making a wide circuit to avoid discovery, Keene stole round to the rear of the mango-grove, halted within three hundred yards of it and sent Ensign Symmonds forward to examine the French dispositions. Symmonds was not gone far when he came upon a deep trench, in which a detachment of infantry was taking shelter until its time for action should come. He was challenged as he drew nearer, and could see muskets pointed at him, but answering calmly in French he was allowed to pass and to enter the grove in rear of the French guns. Behind the battery stood a detachment of one hundred French soldiers, all gazing eagerly towards the failing fire of the British cannon in their front, and without any precaution against attack from the rear. Symmonds stole back to his men, avoiding the trench; and the two hundred British advanced silently and noiselessly, by the track of his return, into the grove, halted under the deep shadow of the mangos within thirty yards of the French detachment and fired a volley. The effect was instantaneous. Many of the French fell, the rest of them broke, the artillerymen abandoned their guns, and the whole fled away in confusion, they knew not whither, through the trees, with the British in pursuit. A building in the grove presented a refuge, and there the fugitives crowded in, not knowing what they did, one on the top of another until they were packed so tightly that they could not use their arms. The British presently came up with them and offered quarter, whereupon the whole of them surrendered as prisoners of war. Meanwhile the silence of the French battery told Clive of Keene's success, and his troops in the water-course regained their confidence. Presently a few of the fugitive French who had escaped capture came running up to their comrades with news of the disaster in the grove, and therewith the whole of the enemy's infantry in the water-course incontinently took to flight. The native cavalry was not slow to follow the example, and very soon all sign of an enemy had vanished and the victory was won. Clive gathered his men together, and the exhausted army lay under arms until the moon paled and the sun rose up to show what manner of victory it had won. On the field fifty French soldiers and three hundred Sepoys lay dead; sixty more French had been captured in the grove, and the whole of the French artillery was abandoned to the British. Of Clive's force forty Europeans and thirty Sepoys were killed and a still greater number wounded, no extravagant price to pay for so far-reaching a success.

For by Covrepauk not only was the work begun at Arcot completed but Trichinopoly was saved; not only was British military reputation established but supremacy in the south of India was wrenched from the French. It was essentially a general's action, Clive's action; and when we reflect on the hours that preceded it, hours of continuous marching, doubtful information, and incessant anxiety, we can only marvel at the moral and physical strength which enabled him to present instantly a bold front, to keep his weary soldiers together during those four hours of fighting by moonlight, and to devise and execute the counterstroke which won the day.

From Covrepauk Clive marched on to Arcot, and was proceeding southward from thence when he was recalled to Fort St. David, to command an expedition which was preparing for the relief of Trichinopoly. On his way he passed the growing city which was to commemorate the victories of Dupleix and razed it to the ground;[236] but he met with no trace of an enemy. Raju Sahib's army had dispersed; the French and their Sepoys had been recalled to Pondicherry; and Raju Sahib himself, on returning thither from the scene of his defeat, was received by Dupleix with a displeasure and contempt which showed how deeply the dart of Clive's victory was rankling in the breast of the ambitious Frenchman.