One of Clive's Heroes: A Story of the Fight for IndiaStrang, Herbert
History
One of Clive's Heroes: A Story of the Fight for India
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; British -- India -- Juvenile fiction; India -- History -- 18th century -- Juvenile fiction
Dawn had hardly broken on June 23, King George’s birthday, when Mir
Madan, with a body of picked troops, 7,000 foot, 5,000 horse, and
Sinfray’s artillery, moved out to the attack with great clamour of
trumpets and drums. The remainder of the Nawab’s army formed a wide arc
about the north and east of the English position. Nearest to the grove
was Mir Jafar’s detachment. The English were arranged in four
divisions, under Majors Killpatrick, Grant, and Coote, and Captain
Gaupp. These had taken position in front of the embankment, the guns on
the left, the Europeans in the centre, the sepoys on the right.
Sinfray’s gunners occupied an eminence near the tank, about two hundred
yards in advance of the grove, and made such good play that Clive,
directing operations from the Nawab’s hunting-box, deemed it prudent to
withdraw his men into the grove, where they were sheltered from the
enemy’s fire. The Nawab’s troops hailed this movement with loud shouts,
of exultation, and, throwing their guns forward, opened a still more
vigorous cannonade, which, however, did little damage.
If Mir Madan had had the courage and dash to order a combined assault,
there is very little doubt that he must have overwhelmed Clive’s army by
sheer weight of numbers. But he let the opportunity slip. Meanwhile
Clive had sent forward his two howitzers and two large guns to check
Sinfray’s fire.
Midday came, and save for the cannonading no fighting had taken place.
Clive left the hunting-box, called his officers together, and gave
orders that they were to hold their positions during the rest of the day
and prepare to storm the Nawab’s camp at midnight. He was still talking
to them when a heavy shower descended, the rain falling in torrents for
an hour. Wet through, Clive hastened to the hunting-lodge to change his
clothes. Scarcely had he departed when the enemy’s fire slackened.
Their ammunition, having been left exposed, had been rendered almost
entirely useless by the rain. Fancying that the English gunners had
been equally careless, Mir Madan ordered his horse to charge; but the
Englishmen had kept their powder dry, and received the cavalry with a
deadly fire that sent them headlong back. At this moment Mir Madan
himself was killed by a cannon-ball, and his followers, dismayed at his
loss, began a precipitate retreat to their entrenchments.
Clive was still absent. The sight of the enemy retreating was too much
for Major Killpatrick. Forgetting the order to maintain his position,
he thought the moment opportune for a general advance. He turned to
Desmond, who had remained at his side all the morning, and said:
"Burke, run off to Mr. Clive, and tell him the Moors are retreating, and
I am following up."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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