"Our men had already been driven out of Tanna fort by Manik Chand, who had come up with two thousand men and a couple of field-pieces. Then came up Mir Jafar, the Nawab’s bakshi,[#] and began firing from the Chitpur gate. We got all our women into the Fort; the poor creatures left all they had but their clothes and their bedding. You may guess the confusion. The natives were flocking out of the town; most of our servants fled with them; all our cooks were gone, so that though we had a great stock of food we were like to starve in the midst of plenty. But we filled their places with some of the Portuguese who came crowding into the Fort. Two thousand of ’em, men, women, and children, filled the courtyard, sitting among their bundles of goods, so that we could scarce move for ’em. The enemy was in the town; they had set light to the Great Bazar, and were burning and plundering in the native parts. We fired the bastis[#] to the east and south, to deprive ’em of cover; and you may imagine the scene, Desmond--the blazing sky, the tears and screams of the women, the din of guns. We wrote to the French at Chandernagore begging ’em to lend us some ammunition, for the most of ours was useless; but they sent us a genteel reply saying they’d no more than sufficient for their own needs; yet the wretches made the Nawab a present of two hundred chests of powder, ’tis said. [#] Commander-in-chief. [#] Blocks of huts. "Next day we were besieged in earnest. The Nawab had, we learnt, nigh 50,000 men, with 150 elephants and camels, and 250 Frenchmen working his artillery. Against ’em we had about 500 in all, only half of ’em Europeans. What could so few do against so many? Our officers were all brave enough, but they’ve had a slack time, and few of ’em are fit for their work. Ensign Picard, sure, did wonders, and Lieutenant Smyth defended the North battery with exceeding skill; but we had not men enough to hold our positions, and step by step we were driven back. ’Twas clear we could not hold out long, and on Friday night we held a council of war, and decided to send the women on board the ships in the river, to get ’em out of harm’s way. Then by heaven! Desmond, two of the Council shamed ’emselves for ever. Mr. Manningham and Mr. Frankland, special friends of Mr. Drake, attended the ladies to the ship--’twas the _Dodalay_, of which they are owners--and they stayed on board with ’em--the cowards, to set such an infamous example! And well ’twas followed. ’Tis scarce credible, but Captain Minchin, our gallant commander, and Mr. Drake, our noble president, went down to the ghat and had ’emselves rowed off to the shipping and deserted us: good God! do they deserve the name of Englishmen? One of our gentlemen standing on the steps was so enraged that he sent a bullet after the cravens; others did the same, and I would to heaven that one of their shots had took effect on the wretches! We made Mr. Holwell governor in the Quaker’s