In Clive's Command: A Story of the Fight for IndiaStrang, Herbert
History
In Clive's Command: A Story of the Fight for India
Strang, Herbert
Clive, Robert Clive, Baron, 1725-1774 -- Fiction; India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
"Mr. Holwell saw 'twas impossible to withstand the Nawab's hordes much
longer, and spoke for an orderly retreat; but he was overrid by some of
the military officers; and besides, retreat was cut off, for the ships
that had lain in the river moved away, and though we hung out signals
from the fort asking 'em to come back and take us off, they paid no heed;
nay, they stood farther off, leaving us to our fate. What could we do?
Mr. Holwell sent to Omichand in his prison and offered to release him if
he would treat with the Nawab for us. But the Gentoo refused. All he
would do was to write a letter to Manik Chand asking him to intercede for
us. Mr. Holwell threw the letter over the wall among the enemy, and by
heaven! Desmond, never did I suppose Englishmen would be reduced to such
a point of humiliation.
"But 'twas of no effect. The enemy came on with the more determination,
and brought bamboos to scale the walls. We drove 'em off again, but with
frightful loss; twenty-five of our bravest men were killed outright and
sixty wounded. 'Twas there I got my wounds, and 'twould have been all
over with me but for that fine fellow Bulger; he turned aside with his
hook a slashing blow from a scimitar and gave my assailant his quietus.
Bulger fought like a hero, and the very look of him, black with powder
and stained with blood, seemed to drive all the fight out of the Moors
that came his way.
"All this time the shots of the Nawab's cannon annoyed us, not to much
harm, for they were most villainously served; their fire arrows did us
more mischief, flying into the thick of the crowds of screaming women and
children. It made my heart sick to think of the poor innocent people
suffering through the weakness and incompetence and the guilty neglect of
our Council. The heat and the glare, the want of food, the uproar and
commotion--may I never see or hear the like again!
"Yesterday there was a lull in the fighting about midday. The enemy were
still outside the fort, though they had possession of all the houses
around. They showed a flag of truce, whereupon Mr. Holwell writ a letter
asking 'em for terms. But 'twas a trick to deceive us. While we were
resting, waiting the result of the parley, the Moors poured out of their
hiding places and swarmed upon the eastern gate of the fort and the
pallisadoes on the southwest. In the interval many of our common men had
fallen asleep; some, alas! were drunk, so that we had no force to resist
the invaders, who scaled the roof of the godowns on the north wall with
the aid of their bamboos and swept over into the fort.
"Most of us Europeans who were left collected in the veranda in front of
the barracks--you know, between the great gate and the southeast bastion.
Scarce a man of us but was wounded. There we were unmolested, for the
enemy, as soon as they burst into our private rooms, made busy with their
spoil; and, as it appeared, the Nawab had given orders that we were to be
spared.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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