And now it befalls to me to relate what I saw of that famous day which changed the relations between the English and Moors throughout the whole empire of Indostan. And I think that never before nor since was such a singular engagement fought, and so little really done to effect so tremendous a result.

After I had communicated to Colonel Clive what had passed between Meer Jaffier and myself at our secret interview, he believed less than ever in the Meer’s promises of assistance.

“I do not think the man means to betray me, but like all the Bengalese he is a coward, and dares not carry out his promises when the moment comes.”

Such was his judgment, in which I was obliged to agree; though I confess I had a liking for Meer Jaffier, and felt much pity for him in his subsequent misfortunes.

It was one o’clock, an hour after midnight, when our little army of three thousand men arrived and took up their quarters in the grove of Plassy. Of these, two thousand were Sepoys, the remainder being European troops, with some sailors from the fleet and about one hundred Topasses: we had also eight field-pieces and two howitzers. The grove in which we encamped was enclosed in a bank and ditch, within which were mango trees, very regularly planted in straight rows, the whole place being about half a mile in length, and less than a quarter in breadth. It stood near the edge of the river, which defended it from approach on the left, where there was a small house or hunting lodge, which Colonel Clive chose as his headquarters. Facing the grove to the north was the entrenched camp where the Nabob’s army had lain ever since their retreat from Calcutta. The troops had been partly withdrawn a few days before, but they were now returned; and we heard their drums and cymbals beating all night long.

Colonel Clive, who had restored me to my former position as his secretary, and kept me near him, bade me lie down and sleep in the lodge. But though I lay down, I was too excited to do more than doze off for a minute at a time, and every time that I opened my eyes I saw the Colonel either walking to and fro, as if impatient for the day to break, or sitting at a table with maps spread out before him, studying them by the light of a torch. Sometimes he went out of the lodge for a few minutes to see that all was quiet, but soon returned and resumed his meditations.

As soon as it was light enough to see, I got up, unable to lie still any longer, and joined Mr. Clive.

“Ah, Ford, so you are awake, eh!” he observed smiling. “You don’t look as though you had slept very soundly. Let us get on to the roof, and perhaps we may see what those fellows are about.”

We mounted together by a narrow stair leading on to a flat roof, and looked about us. On the left the mist was slowly rising from the river, on the right the foliage of the trees hid our own troops from view. But in front of us to the north we beheld spread out a scene of such magnificence that I confess I trembled, and even Colonel Clive uttered an exclamation of surprise.

The Nabob’s army lay in their entrenched camp, one angle of the rampart, that nearest to us, being strengthened with a small redoubt armed with cannon. Behind and away almost as far as we could see, stretched the tents and lines of armed men, the whole just beginning to stir with the first movements of the day. In the midst rose a splendid pavilion, adorned by flags, before the door of which stood a train of horses and attendants, while lesser tents were pitched all round it, each one displaying the ensign of some great officer. Crowds of men could be seen pushing to and fro, catching up their weapons and falling into some sort of military order, while others brought up horses and elephants, the caparisons of which shone gaily with silk of many colours. So great was the throng, and so confused were their motions, that I could not even guess their numbers, but Colonel Clive, glancing over them with the eye of a veteran, declared that there must be at least fifty thousand men, of whom upwards of fifteen thousand were cavalry. Their guns I counted myself up to forty-three, and they had others which they left in the camp.

As we stood and watched, this great host began to slowly pour out from different openings in the rampart and advance on the plain, forming a sort of bow round the front and right flank of our position. The river, as I have said, protected the left, and they made no attempt to close round the rear.

“I wonder which is Meer Jaffier’s division?” muttered Colonel Clive anxiously, as the array extended itself. The infantry remained for the most part between the camp and our front, while the masses of cavalry spread away to our right, forming their left wing. The army was not in one line, but seemed to advance in a number of detached bodies, the intervals between them being filled up with the guns.

This artillery was a truly formidable spectacle. Our own few guns were merely six-pounders, nor had we the means of transport for larger pieces. But many of the Nabob’s cannon were of immense calibre, 24 and even 32-pounders, more suitable for siege guns than to be brought into action. They were mounted on high wooden stages, which bore not merely the cannon but the artillerymen and ammunition as well, and each of these carriages was drawn along by as many as eighty or a hundred huge white oxen, of the famous Purneah breed. Moreover, in case the oxen should not prove sufficient, an elephant walked behind each of these moving platforms, and butted it with his forehead from behind whenever it stuck from any difficulty of the ground.

Between the grove where we lay and the enemy’s camp there were a couple of tanks, such as the Indians build to contain rain water. These tanks, being protected by banks of earth, served the purpose of redoubts, and we saw a small body of men, about forty or fifty, advance to the tank nearest us, dragging two light guns, with which they at once began playing on the grove.

“Those are white men!” exclaimed Colonel Clive, who had been watching this movement. “They must be Frenchmen sent from Brassy—unless they are some of those that escaped from Chander Nugger.”

While he was speaking the fire from the tank was taken up by the rest of the Nabob’s artillery, and a roar arose from the whole face of the advancing army. Colonel Clive watched the result closely for a few minutes.

“They are doing very little harm,” he observed. “They fire too high. Most of the balls are passing over the heads of our men. But it will not do for us to stay in the shelter of the grove; they may think we are afraid of them.”

He hurried down to the ground, bidding me keep near him, and went to where our men were waiting, just within the ditch which enclosed the grove. One Sepoy had been killed by the discharge from the tank, and three or four wounded, but otherwise we had not suffered.

The Colonel quickly made his dispositions, and the little force marched boldly out from its shelter and faced the enemy. At this the whole Moorish army halted, still out of point-blank range, and contented themselves with continuing their artillery fire, which we returned as best we could with our few guns. Colonel Clive passed to and fro along the line several times, noting everything that happened, and anxiously watching for some symptom of the promised desertion by Meer Jaffier. But nothing happened, the Moor’s infantry remained steady in our front, and the dark masses of cavalry continued to hang threateningly on our flank.

“I have brought my men out to give Meer Jaffier his chance,” said Colonel Clive to me in a low tone, “but if he is afraid to move, we are done. It is impossible to order an advance in face of that army.”

He walked down the line once again, and counted our casualties. By this time we had lost ten Europeans, and about twice as many Sepoys.

“That is enough,” the Colonel exclaimed sharply. “It is useless to expose the men for nothing. Retire into the grove again.”

This order was executed, and the enemy, appearing to gather courage from our retreat, advanced their artillery nearer, and quickened their fire. However, their aim continued very bad, most of the shot merely struck the branches of the trees, and the men were ordered to lie down for the sake of greater safety. I was pleased to observe that all, even the Sepoys and Topasses, displayed the utmost coolness and confidence. Several powder explosions happened about this time in different places in the enemy’s ranks, and this served to increase the contempt of our own men for the Nabob’s forces.

About eleven o’clock Colonel Clive called some of the officers together, and communicated his plans to them.

“It is quite clear that the Nabob is afraid to attack us at close quarters,” he said, “or he would have ordered a further advance before this. Still I do not consider we are justified in quitting our shelter for the present, in the absence of any demonstration from Meer Jaffier. It will be better to let the cannonade go on for the rest of the day, and then try a night attack on their camp.”

Most of the officers concurred in this opinion. As the Colonel and I were walking back to the lodge he turned to me suddenly, and asked me what I thought.

“Why, sir, to be plain with you, I think the only men we have to regard are those forty Frenchmen in the tank,” I answered. “As far as the rest are concerned, I very much doubt if they would stand five minutes against a charge.”

The Colonel nodded.

“I shouldn’t be surprised if you were right. But remember, Ford, that those nine hundred men are the only European troops in Bengal, and if I lose even two hundred of them this will be an expensive victory for me. What I want is to hold on till Surajah Dowlah’s own troops desert him, and then I may win everything without loss of life.”

I was much impressed by this glimpse into Mr. Clive’s mind, which showed him as something very different from the reckless, hot-headed soldier some of his enemies have called him.

Just at this time a shower of rain fell, and soon after the fire of the enemy sensibly slackened, some of their powder evidently having been spoiled. Towards two o’clock a stranger thing took place, for the firing ceased altogether, and the Moors were perceived yoking their white oxen to the gun-stages again; and immediately after the whole army commenced to fall back slowly and re-enter the camp.

I was standing by myself outside the door of the lodge when this singular movement commenced, and I at once stepped inside to inform Colonel Clive. To my astonishment I found him asleep. The exhausting work of the last few days, followed by the total absence of rest on the previous night, had proved too much for him. He had fallen on to a chair, and dropped asleep unawares.

While I was hesitating whether to awaken him I heard some one approaching without. I went out softly, and found a sergeant of Major Kilpatrick’s company, with a message for the Colonel.

“I will take your message, sergeant,” I said, not wishing him to know of Mr. Clive’s slumber.

“Faith, then, sir, it’s just this,” said the fellow, who was an Irishman, “that the enemy’s beat, and runnin’ away entirely, and Major Kilpathrick’s just after starting to take the tank from those murderin’ Frenchies, so as to annoy the Nabob’s retreat.”

I turned red at this insolent message, which did not even request Colonel Clive’s permission for the movement. Dismissing the sergeant, I darted in and woke up my commander.

The Colonel was broad awake in an instant. When he heard what had happened he compressed his lips, without making any remark, and ran out of the lodge, and across the ground to where Kilpatrick was leading his company towards the tank.

“Halt!” shouted Colonel Clive, as he approached.

The Major stopped, and looked confused.

“I thought, sir, as every moment was precious——” he began, when Mr. Clive sharply cut him short.

“I will receive your apologies this evening, sir. At present my orders to you are to return and order up the whole force to support this movement which you have so rashly begun.”

He waited till the discomfited officer had retired, and then turning to me, he added with a touch of glee—

“Now, Ford, you and I will take the tank!”

The word was given to double, and we advanced at a run, whereupon the Frenchmen, after one discharge, evacuated their position, and retired upon the camp.

The rest of the English force now marched out from the grove, and advanced in line, pursuing the retreating enemy. But there was one part of the Nabob’s army which did not join in the movement of the rest. A large division of cavalry, one of those which had formed the threatening left wing, drew off from the rest and advanced towards our right rear.

Colonel Clive watched their movements with suspicion.

“Are these fellows trying to take our baggage?” he murmured. “Captain Grant, take three platoons and a field-piece, and see if you can fight off those horse.”

The order as given was obeyed, the slight demonstration proved sufficient, and the mysterious division drew away again out of range. In the meantime our main body advanced steadily, and kept up a brisk fire on the Nabob’s camp with our artillery. On this some of the retiring troops showed a disposition to come out again and renew the attack, encouraged by the example of the Frenchmen, who had got possession of the redoubt in the angle of the rampart, and were plying us well with their guns. Seeing this disposition on the part of the enemy, Colonel Clive ordered some shot to be thrown among their cumbrous artillery trains. This was done with such effect that, numbers of the oxen being killed, the trains were thrown into confusion. At the same time some of the Moorish horse made a few ineffectual offers to charge, but were easily driven off, without ever coming to close quarters.

Whatever cause had prompted the strange retreat of the enemy, it was evident that the same cause was now operating to take all heart out of their defence. The only thing that gave us pause was the attitude of the Frenchmen in the redoubt, whose spirit communicated itself to the troops in their immediate neighbourhood. While things were in this doubtful posture, I happened to glance round to see what had become of the cavalry division repulsed by Captain Grant. To my surprise I saw them retiring slowly in an opposite direction to the Nabob’s camp.

Instantly I grasped the situation.

“Colonel,” I whispered hurriedly, “don’t you see that that must be Meer Jaffier’s division!”

Mr. Clive turned and stared for a moment in the direction I pointed in.

“You are right,” he responded. “Meer Jaffier, of course! Well, since he has put off his assistance so long, he shall see how little we needed it!”

A thrill of fresh energy seemed to sweep through him as he began issuing his orders for the final charge. Two columns were told off, one to clear a small eminence to the right, the other to attack the French in their redoubt, while the main body was directed to follow up in a grand attack on the whole camp. By my special request I was allowed to join the column marching against the Frenchmen. We made a dash forward—once, twice, thrice the Frenchmen fired at us as we came on, then we saw them drop their linstocks and run, and in another five minutes it was all over. The entire English force was over the ramparts together, the army which had marched out so gallantly against us that morning was suddenly become a mere herd, a wretched mob of fugitives crushing one another in their eagerness to escape from us, and we picked our way amid the plunder of Surajah Dowlah’s rich pavilion, victors of Plassy, masters and law-givers of Indostan!