which they had been drinking in the fort. The horrors all endured are too dreadful to be detailed. They tried to burst the door, and seek relief from the scimitars of the guards. Mr. Holwell offered one of the inferior officers, who showed some sympathy for their fate, 1,000 rupees, if he could get them distributed into two apartments. He went to try; but on his return said, that the nabob was asleep, and that no change could be made. The sum was now doubled, and he tried again, but returning, he said that nothing could be done, that the nabob was still asleep, and that nobody could dare to waken him. There was now no hope. The air was pestilential, some were suffocated, others were trampled to death, and there was a frantic struggle to get near the windows. The officer who had been before appealed to, forced in some skins of water through the bars, but this seemed only to increase their misery. The contests for the liquid were fearful; and the soldiers without, with a demon feeling, held up lights to see and enjoy the gestures of the combatants. Some sought, by incentives, to tempt the guards to fire upon them; others were raving mad; and midst this wailing scene, the only cry that was not one of horror, was that of prayer. At two o'clock, only fifty were alive; and when Sarajah awoke, at six in the morning, and gave orders for the door to be opened, only twenty-three were taken out alive, ghastly and insensible. It is said that the nabob did not actually mean to cause so dreadful a catastrophe. Possibly he did not much consider all the horrors which would follow; but it is quite plain that he gave the order for imprisonment; for when he awoke in the morning, his first question had reference to the sufferers, inquiring in what condition they were; and even then his hardened indifference to their fate showed his cruelty. When Mr. Holwell, who was one of the survivors, was brought into his presence, weak and scarcely sensible, he expressed no regret for his sufferings, no sorrow for those who had perished, but proceeded sternly to interrogate him on the far more interesting topic of the treasure which he supposed was concealed in the fort. Mill, with an air of liberality which so often appears in his work, just when it ought not, throws the blame of the transaction on the English themselves, on the ground that they had no business to have so confined a prison. It was, no doubt, large enough for all the purposes of the English factory at that time. As soon as the news of this massacre, and of the fall of Calcutta, reached Madras, it was determined in council there, to prepare an ex pedition forthwith, to retake the possessions of the English, and avenge their wrongs. After some delay, arising out of personal feelings and jealousies between the company's and the king's service, an armament was fitted out, consisting of 900 Europeans and 1,500 sepoys, with a fleet of five ships under the command of Admiral Watson, and the control of the whole was confided to Clive. The force was small, considering the powerful despot it was destined to assail; but Clive said that his Europeans "were full of spirit and of resentment, and he had no doubt of their success. On the 2nd of January, 1757, they retook Calcutta, which had been abandoned by the nabob, who was concentrating his troops at some distance from that town. Although his army amounted to 40,000 men, Clive determined to make a night attack upon his camp. Owing to some errors in the execution of this plan, he was not successful, but was obliged to retire with a considerable loss; still the effort was so daring, and the courage exhibited by his men so remarkable, that the movement had all the influence of a victory. The nabob sought rather to negotiate than to fight; and although Clive had no reliance on his character, he conceived himself bound, in the critical position in which he was placed, to treat with him, if it were practicable. A compact was accordingly made, by which great advantages were conferred upon the English. Clive, however, seems to have relied but little on the stability of this peace; for, in communicating the details of it to the directors, he observes, "that it cannot be expected that the princes of this country, whose fidelity is always to be suspected, will remain firm to their engagements and promises from principle only." There was great reason for the caution conveyed in these remarks; for it afterwards appeared that the seal had not been put to the treaty, before the nabob was engaged in making overtures to the French, to assist him in expelling the English from Bengal. This was a contingency on which Clive had counted; and his first object, after making peace with the nabob, was to march against the French factory at Chandernagore, where they had a thriving establishment, and a force about equal to his own. the nabob's agreement to this proceeding, on the ground that the English and the French were then at war. The nabob tried hard to evade giving his assent, but after some correspondence, Clive advanced against this place, and took it by storm. In this expedition he acted on his own responsibility, disregarding orders from Madras, which recalled him there. He was aware of the efforts which the French government were making for the re He claimed he asks, and draw up any form of engagement which shall satisfy him, and secure us against his treachery." This was done in a manner, which, if it be at all defensible, certainly shows that Clive was not over scrupulous. The expedient was a fictitious agreement, a proceeding which, in our mind, no emergency could justify." In This was the condition of affairs when Suraj-a-Doula commanded his army, amounting to upwards of 55,000 men, with a large park of artillery, to advance against the English towards the plains of Plassey. The order was at once obeyed; and Clive, who had been assured that Meer Jaffier would come over and join him with his large division, saw no symptom of such a move. He had, moreover, intelligence that Bussy, with a disciplined force, was moving to the nabob's aid. The rains too were at hand, and the council at Madras were imploring him to return, as all there were in alarm, daily expecting to be besieged by a French armament, known to be on its way from Europe. this predicament, Clive made a false step; for the first and last time of his life he called a council of war. His whole force consisted of 3,000 men, one-third of them English, the rest sepoys, and his artillery consisted of eight six-pounders and a howitzer. The question which he propounded was, "whether, in our present situation, without assistance, and on our own bottom, it would be prudent to attack the nabob; or whether we should wait till joined by some country power?" Clive spoke first, and voted for delay; he was joined by eight others, and seven were for an immediate attack, so that the council, which was composed of sixteen officers, was nearly divided. The question was regarded as definitely settled, and Clive retired to a grove, where, resting under a tree, he revolved the matter again in his mind for a whole hour, and then, regardless of the decision of the council, and of his own expressed opinion, announced his intention of attacking the enemy. No one describes a battle better covery of their influence in the East; he knew | spiracy. "Promise him," said Clive, "all that M. Bussy, with a European and a large native force, was at no great distance from Bengal; and he clearly saw that a French and English power could not co-exist in India; he therefore concluded that he was consulting the interest of England, and the honor of her arms, in assailing her ablest enemy, while he could do so to advantage. On effecting this conquest, he made the further discovery that the nabob was actually in treaty with M. Bussy. He then determined to incur the further responsibility of declaring war against this prince, and of taking part in a conspiracy to dethrone him. "He is," said Clive, "a villain, and either he or we must be upset.' Suraj-aDoulah was, as we may easily conceive such a monster must have been, well hated. His tyranny had rendered him unpopular with most of the leaders in his court and camp, and his exactions had set many of the men of wealth against him. There was one feature in the Mogul polity which contributed a good deal to the insecurity of an unjust ruler. While the administration of justice, and every military appointment, was kept in the hands of the Mussulmans, all that related to finance was abandoned to the Hindoos. They were the conductors of money arrangements, the bankers in large towns, the money-lenders in the villages. "I prefer Hindoos as managers and renters, those of my own religion,' ," said Ameerul-Omra, the minister of the nabob of the Carnatic, "because a Mohammedan is like a sieve, and a Hindoo like a sponge. Whatever you put into the one runs through; the other retains it all, and you may recover it any moment by the application of a little pressure.' This pressure, however, very much disposed its victims to aid in conspiracies, and their influence was usually great. Amongst those who had suffered by the fall of Calcutta was a native banker, named Omichund, who was artful and avaricious, and who hoped, by political intrigues, to replace his losses. He was mainly the channel through which Clive communicated with the disaffected in the nabob's camp. Their wish was to set the latter aside, and to make Meer Jaffier, the commander-inchief of his army, their ruler in his stead. The latter took an undecided part, evidently wishing to adhere to his master until he saw that he could desert him with safety. It was also plain that Omichund was not to be depended on, for after having stipulated for an enormous reward, under the name of compensation, he told the English that unless they secured him the further sum of £300,000 as recompense for his agency, he would go over to Suraj-a-Doulah, and apprise him of the con red paper, promising all that Omichund had asked— the other one, white paper, giving him nothing. Admiral Watson signed the latter, but refused to sign the other, to which, however, his name was af *Two agreements were prepared, one written on fixed by the committee. The Hindoo was deceived, and when, after the battle of Plassey, he claimed his reward, he was told, "The red treaty is a sham, you are to have nothing." The wretched man fell into the arms of an attendant, never uttered a complaint, became an idiot, and shortly after died. It is but right to add, that Clive never could see anything wrong in the transaction, and that his biographer, Sir John Malcolm, defends it. than Mr. Gleig, and we therefore transcribe from his pages the triumph of Plassey: "At dawn of day, on the 22nd, the army began to cross the river; by four in the afternoon the last division was safely across. No halt ensued. The boats being towed against the stream with great labor, the infantry and guns pushed forward; and after a march of fifteen miles, the whole bivouacked, about three in the morning of the 23d, in a grove, or small wood, not far from Plassey. "Clive's intelligence had led him to expect that the enemy were in position at Cossimbogue. A rapid march had, however, carried them on to Plassey, where they occupied the line or entrenched camp, which, during the siege of Chandernagore, Roydullub had thrown up, and scarcely were the British troops lain down, ere the sound of drums, clarions, and cymbals warned them of the proximity of danger. Picquets were immediately pushed forward, and sentinels planted, and for an hour or two longer the weary soldiers and camp-followers were permitted to rest. "Day broke at last, and forth from their entrenched camp the hosts of Suraj-a-Doulah were seen to pour. 40,000 foot, armed, some with match-locks, others with spears, swords, and bows, overspread the plain; fifty pieces of cannon moved with them, each mounted upon a sort of wheeled-platform, which a long team of white oxen dragged, and an elephant pushed onwards from the rear. The cavalry numbered 15,000; and it was observed that in respect both of their horses and equipments, they were very superior to any which Clive and the soldiers of the Carnatic had seen on their own side of India. The fact was, that this force consisted almost entirely of Rajpoots, or Patans, soldiers from their childhood, and individually brave and skilful with their weapons. But among them, not less than among the infantry, the bond of discipline was wanting; and placing no reliance one upon the other, their very multitude became to them a source of weakness. On the other hand, Clive's small, but most pliable army, stood silent as the grave. It consisted of about 1,000 Europeans, inured to toil, and indifferent to danger, and of 2,000 sepoys, who, trained in the same school, had imbibed no small share of the same spirit. Of these Europeans a portion of Adlercron's regiment constituted perhaps the flower. The name of Adlercron has long since ceased to be had in remembrance; but the gallant 39th still carry with them, wherever they go, a memorial of that day 66 the word Plassey," and the proud motto, "Primus in Indis" standing emblazoned upon their colors, beside many a similar record of good service performed in Spain and in the south of France. "The battle of Plassey began at daybreak, and was continued for many hours, with a heavy cannonade on the part of the enemy, to which the guns of the English warmly replied. The fire of the latter told at every sound; that of the former was much more noisy than destructive, partly because Clive sheltered his men behind a mud fence which surrounded the grove, partly because the nabob's artillerists were as unskilful as their weapons were cumbrous. No decisive movement was, however, made on either side, for Clive felt himself too weak in numbers to act on the offensive; besides, he still expected that Meer Jaffier would come over to him, and, until some indication of the anticipated move were given, he did not consider that he would be justified in quitting his ground. The nabob's troops, on the other hand, were such as the ablest general could not pretend to manoeuvre under fire, and able generals were wholly wanting to them. Under these circumstances Clive, whom excessive fatigue had worn out, lay down and slept, although not until he had given directions that, in the event of any change occurring, he should be immediately called. Accordingly, about noon, one of his people awoke him, and said that the enemy were retiring. He started up; the day, it appeared, being overcast, a heavy shower had followed, which so damaged the enemy's powder, that their artillery became in a great degree useless; and as they trusted entirely to their superiority in that arm, they no longer ventured to keep the field. moment, Clive gave the word to advance. There was one little band attached to the nabob's force which served him in good stead that day. It consisted of about forty French soldiers, European and native, the remains of the garrison of Chandernagore, with four light field-pieces. Against these Clive first directed an attack to be made, and though they resisted stoutly, he drove them from a redoubt in which they were established, and seized their guns. With the apparent design of preventing this the nabob's people again sallied forth; but they came on this time in a confused mass, and a well-directed fire from the English guns first checked and then turned them. Advantage was promptly taken of the panic, no respite given to the fugitives, for the victors entering with them, pell-mell into the camp, soon converted the retreat into a flight. In an hour from the first movement of the Eng In a lish beyond the exterior of the grove, a battle, | on which may be said to have hung the destinies of India, was decided.— Gleig's Life of Clive, pp. 81-82. As the the battle was closing, Clive observed a dense body of troops, on the enemy's left, moving obliquely towards his right. They made no communication, and were fired on as they approached. When the engagement was quite over, horsemen came in, announcing that this was Meer Jaffier's corps, and that he sent his congratulations to the victors. On the following morning the cheiftain entered the camp; but he was obviously uneasy, and appeared conscious of his duplicity; for he was observed to change color when the the guard turned out to receive him. Clive, however, soon calmed his fears. He received him with open arms, and hailed him as Nabob of Bengal, Bahar, and Ovissa. Such was the battle of Plassey, which forms the first great era in the history of British India. Fought under circumstances of great discour agement, it achieved for us the richest district of Hindostan, established England as a recognized power, and spread the terror of her arms throughout the provinces of the Mogul empire, then tottering to its fall. Mr. Wilson's work, now completed, meets, we are quite sure, the expectations of the public. We much regret that he did not re-write the history of the period embraced by Mill; but he has done the next best thing, by correcting the errors and fancies of that muchbiased author, in his well-considered notes.Dublin University Magazine. | OUR TIMES. UN PEU DE DÉRAISON. BY MRS. MATHEWS. "What a fuss there is about the turneps!" cried a musical knight of our acquaintance,after a visit to some gentlemen farmers, who deplored the failing crop of this cattle-food, his own agricultural knowledge and interest being bounded to the requisite supply of vegetables for the table. "What a fuss they make about them! for my part I don't care for turnips; I think carrots much better; and, for aught I see, there are enough for those who choose to pay for them." (Which by the way is the rational test in all matters of scarcity.) "What a brawling there is about them!" And, echo we, what a brawling is there about the hardness of the times! Of which, by a parity of reasoning with that of our sapient knight, we don't believe a word, since, for our part, we find everything very easy and comfortable; whatever we have a mind to pay for, comes as readily and plentifully as ever we remember things. And yet, not to give credence to popular complaint from time to time, touching this vital question, would be wholly to discredit written authority, which, time out of mind, has had the pas of oral testimony. That which is in print must be true! is an axiom which the freedom and infallibility of the press has rendered indisputable; but then, again, who can look through the columns of advertisements with which our daily and hebdomadal literature abound, wherein variety and abundance of all things merchantable are offered to us for little or nothing; ele‐ gances, luxuries, all that can gladden and adorn this life; besides the needful, which, in unlimited sums of money is absolutely pressed upon us by generous and disinterested lenders, enabling us to purchase innumerable bargains, those pick purses of our wives and daughters, "Wanted, because they may be bought- and which solicit us daily in every form :who, we repeat, can see all these and believe that ruin and desolation are come upon us? Nay, can we withhold our confidence (and moreover admiration) in the manifold inventions and improvements which, regardless of expense, as we are assured, are devised for our comfort and convenience? Can we behold these still-beginning, never-ending evidences of our country's stamina, and not feel satisfied, malgré the (mis-) leading articles of our cherished paper (which it must be confessed sometimes "speak louder than adver tisement"), foretelling the crush and dissolu- | tion of all mundane reliances, that England is still the most flourishing and well-to-do nation in Christendom? Why, the very man who in the morning tells you that dearth and famine are the crying evils of the land we live in, will, on the self-same day, spread you a table that shall groan under the weight of that plenty of which his pen has previously labored to deny the existence ! Pass we over this, not irrelevant matter, and proceed to proofs that at this present period, things in general are particularly prosperous, and, to say the least, on an average with the good old times so vaunted by those to whom "Rien n'est beau que le vieux," and of whose superiority, entre nous, we entertain a very certain degree of scepticism, while in many respects we moderns are infinitely above them. Let us take a retrospective glance at the dull matter-of-fact days of old. When the earlyto-rise and late-to-rest system of unlettered England's shopkeepers, bound apprentices to lean over their counters all day, and lie under them at night, nothing more was looked for, or indeed requisite, to the ready sale of their commodities, beyond those significant, tangible intimations of their respective métiers, displayed in their windows. Alas! for that single-minded, now exploded race! When dreamed they of early closing movements, who never stirred from their shop and its little back parlor of six feet by four (for with them there was measure in everything)? When thought they of" busying themselves in scullcontending schools," and improving their minds? What cared they for letters? save and except those capital ones, the emblems of a flourishing trade, and initials of their house's prosperity, L. S. D., which made up the sum total of their learning's lore. The English trader needed then no tongue but his own; no "foreign lingo" to perplex his honest mind. Content to know nothing beyond his tradecraft, and only studied, like Norval, "to increase his store and keep his only son" (if he had one) "at home" with no higher aim from early morn to dewy eve" than to open and close his ponderous shutters, and sprinkle the shop-floor before his customers came down with their dust. This, reader, was your husband!" But young England is another guess sort of a person from him of elder times. Plate-glass and pedantry have found their way into our shops and opened to us a more lucid insight to what was but the palpable obscure of other days. 66 66 Increase of our national wealth has led to the increase of our national wants, and ulti mately to the development of long-slumbering, national intellect and its concomitant refinement. Our man of trade has now a greater stock of money than he formerly boasted, consequently, a greater mind to spend it! Thus the purse and the primer are simultaneously opened with his eyes, to the actual necessity of self-improvement. It follows then that in the Master-mercer, no longer nailed to his counter like the bad shilling of his day, we now behold the Master mind, which disdains, in propria persona, the sordid occupation of shopkeeping. No longer is he stationed behind his counter with a timid, sleek-headed apprentice at his elbow, with "shining morning face," aproned (and not unfrequently cuffed), with haply a provident row of minikins darned with precision on his sleeve. No longer is the "Till" the nucleus of the house's stamina, but in lieu of the master's eye (perchance in a fine phrenzy rolling), cognizant of the out-goings and incomings of his capital, we behold a plurality of young gentlemen, Byronians, with turneddown collars, pale faces, and winning ways, taking place of the one; while a "cashier" towers loftily above the other, second only in dignity to the elegant superintendent, who, with measured step, and vigilant eye, parades the boutique and notes the entrée of each fair visitant, for whom he places seats with a bowing-grace that would excite the approval, if not the envy, of a Chesterfield. Everything is in fact changed; the very terms and titles of trade are become obsolete. Thus we have no longer shops, but establishments; no more shop-boys, but assistants, who have no longer masters, but employers; and, superseded as said employers are by this general reform, and released from personal attendance, what have they to do if not to fly to the same resource as their emancipated men, and take, as beseems them, the upper seats at the intellectual banquet so copiously and indiscriminately prepared; and as all presiding heads of families have, cum privile gio, the selection of the food of daintier quality to that of their dependents, it follows naturally, that while the subordinates are be-thumbing and dog's-earing their spellingbooks, and laboring to reinstate or transpose their too-long misused H's, and converting their V's into W's-and vice versa-their superior of the upper form is majestically wielding his polyglot, and digging to the very roots of the tree of knowledge for the wherewithal to "amaze the (yet) unlearned, and make the learned smile," doubtless with pleased approval! Thus mind triumphs over mercery as over less tangible matter; and why not? |