The history of the events which brought ruin on the settlement of Calcutta is short and disgraceful. The kingdom of Bengal, which, with Orissa, had been, for fifteen years, subject to the able and active rule of Aliverdi Khan, was now[78] governed by his grand nephew Suraj-u-Dowlah, a youth, who, to all the effeminacy and luxurious habits of an eastern prince, added the greatest violence of temper, and an unrestrained indulgence of his passions. The commercial settlement of Calcutta, which had been protected by his predecessor, became an early object of his attack. Whether he was tempted by its known weakness and reputed wealth, or by a desire to expel the English from Bengal, is a matter of little moment. The pretexts on which his aggressions were grounded are too slight to merit consideration. He first accused the English of an intention to fortify Calcutta. This was disproved. Then they were charged with giving protection to one of his subjects[79] who had fled with great treasure. The person of this subject, he was informed, should be reserved for his pleasure; and proof was offered, that the treasure he was said to have fled with had no existence. But the young and rapacious tyrant was only to be satisfied by the plunder of the English merchants, and all that belonged to them. This was shown by his conduct at Cossimbazar. Having prevailed upon the chief, Mr. Watts, to visit him, he made him prisoner, and afterwards attacked and gained possession of that fortified factory. But the great object of his ambition was the capture of Calcutta. When he approached that city[80], a feeble effort was made at defence; after which it was decided that it would be expedient to retreat; but no orders were issued to render this measure regular or effective to its object of saving the persons and property of the European part of the population, by embarking them on board the vessels lying near the town. The consequence was, that when embarkation commenced, every one tried to secure his own personal safety by getting on board how and when he could. The alarm created by this confusion spread to the ships, and they began to drop down the river. This was no sooner perceived, than every boat was filled; and among those who fled to join the ships on this memorable occasion, were some who were bound to remain by every call of public duty. Signals were made from the fort to the ships to return, but they were not heeded; and, though two days elapsed before the capture, not a boat came to save the few who, either from a sense of duty, or from not possessing the means of escape, had remained in the fort. It is difficult to believe that amongst so many Englishmen, none were found disposed to adventure for the safety of their countrymen. "Never, perhaps," says Orme, "was such an opportunity of performing an heroic action so ignominiously neglected; for a single sloop, with fifteen brave men on board, might, in spite of all the