Surely if ever Clive gains his deserved memorial, these words of his should find some place upon it in palliation of the offence which tarnished his reputation. An offence which, when all is said and done, has something of the nature of an unreasoning, impish, boyish trick about it which is reminiscent of other incidents in Clive"s career, notably the firing of Aurungzebe"s old gun at Arcot, and the _detour_ to smash up the victory-pillar of Dupleix.
So Clive went home, and, arriving at an opportune moment of national depression after a series of rebuffs abroad, was honoured as something of which England could be proud. He was given an Irish barony. "I could have bought an English one (which is usual), but that I was above," he writes. And yet, apparently, he was not above holding his tongue on many matters of national importance, because he was afraid of irritating the Court of Directors who had the payment of his _jaghir_ money. But Clive was ambitious, extraordinarily ambitious, at this time of his career.
"We must be nabobs ourselves," is a phrase which occurs in one of his letters; also this: "My future power, my future grandeur, all depend upon the receipt of the _jaghir_ money."
What scheme lay hidden in his brain? One thing is certain. He scrupled at little which would help him to its realisation. He failed, however, in getting a majority in the Council of Directors, though to do so he employed the discreditable tactics of his adversaries by manufacturing votes. In his defence it must be remembered that he was fighting single-handed against a corrupt monopoly, and that throughout the whole quarrel he never flinched from his purpose.
He took the question of his _jaghir_, which the Company refused to pay, into Chancery, but ere the case was investigated, news of so serious a nature was received from India that a sudden and imperious call for Clive to return arose on all sides. He had made our dominion in the East. Only he could save it from destruction.
The story of what had happened during his four years" absence may be briefly epitomised.
Alamgir II., emperor at Delhi, had been murdered by his minister Ghazi-ud-din from fear of his intriguing with Ahmed-Shah, Durrani, who was once more marching on the Punjab. Backed by his Mahrattas, the minister thought himself secure; in this he was mistaken. True, the Mahrattas were in the zenith of their power, their artillery surpa.s.sed that of the Moghuls, the discipline of their army was better than it had ever been before, but they had in consequence lost something of their lightness, their alertness.
And they were too numerous. When they finally found themselves entrenched on the old historic battle-plain of Paniput awaiting Ahmed-Shah"s advance, they numbered no less than three hundred thousand. Excellent foragers though they were, supplies soon ran short. On the other hand, Ahmed-Shah, with the confederacy of Mahomed princes which had joined forces with him, mustered but a third of that number. He saw his advantage, and waited, replying to his Indian allies" importunities to attack: "This is a matter of war; leave it to me." Night after night his small red tent was pitched in front of his entrenchments, whence he watched his enemy. "Do you sleep," he would say contemptuously to the Indian chiefs; "I will see no harm befalls you."
So the day came at last when the Mahrattas were forced by hunger to attack. They fought well; but by eventide two hundred thousand of them lay dead in heaps on the Paniput plain. Nearly all the great chiefs were slain or wounded, and Bala-ji, the Peishwa, himself died on the way back to Poona, it is said from a broken heart. Ahmed-Shah, Durrani, returned to Kandahar and did not again enter India.
In consequence of his father"s murder the prince-royal, in natural succession, became the Great Moghul. As such it became impossible to further ignore his claims. But he could be, and was, again beaten, together with his ally the Nawab of Oude. Matters at Murshidabad, however, deprived of Clive"s guidance, had gone from bad to worse. Mr Vansittart, Clive"s successor in the Governorship, seems to have been weak, and in addition could count on no support in his council save that of Warren Hastings. The end being that Mir-Jaffar was virtually deposed for misgovernment, and his son-in-law Mir-Ka.s.sim placed on the throne. It was not a clean business, and Mir-Jaffar, full of resentment, retired to live in Calcutta on a pension.
Things, however, did not improve under Mir-Ka.s.sim, though the Prince-Royal-Emperor, who was still hovering on the frontiers, was interviewed by Mr Carnac (doubtless bearing a satisfactory present), and an arrangement entered into by which, in consideration of being confirmed in the Nawabship, Mir Ka.s.sim should pay an annual tribute of 240,000. It is easy to be generous with other folks" money!
Thus secured from invasion, Mir-Ka.s.sim began to try and fill his treasuries, and instantly complained, as Mir-Jaffar had complained, of the injury done to him and his subjects by the rule which permitted private trade to the servants of the Company, who, not satisfied with using their public position to a.s.sist them, claimed the right to be free of all duties, thus ousting the native trader from all markets.
It was manifest, gross injustice; but here again Mr Vansittart and Warren Hastings were alone in condemning it.
Afraid to strike at the root of the evil, while continuing the absolutely indefensible right to private trade, they agreed with the Nawab that the usual duty should be paid.
This raised a storm in Calcutta, where a full meeting of Council decided by ten to two that the agreement should not stand.
The Nawab retaliated in kind. Since the Council persisted in their claim, he would extend its bearings to his own subjects. All could now trade free, and let the devil take the hindmost!
It was a fair retort. They tried to intimidate him, but he had the bit between his teeth. Diplomacy had had its day; it was now war to the knife!
Within a month or two the ma.s.sacre at Patna took place, in which two hundred Englishmen lost their lives in cold blood; but not before the Presidency troops had entered Murshidabad, deposed Mir-Ka.s.sim, who fled, and reinstated Mir-Jaffar.
It was a tissue of mistakes from beginning to end, which Major Munro"s subsequent victory at Buxar over the combined forces of the Prince-Royal-Emperor (who had not yet managed to recover his capital Delhi), the Wazir of Oude, and Mir-Ka.s.sim did little to rectify. For Mir-Jaffar died shortly after of old age, and the Council was left without a Nawab to squeeze! After much discussion, however, they decided on putting up Nujam-ad-daula, an illegitimate son of Mir-Jaffar"s.
Such was the state of affairs when Clive, to whom, in view of the painful state of disorder in Bengal, absolute power had been given, arrived in Calcutta on his second period of Governorship in the beginning of May 1765.
His first act was to decline discussion.
"I was determined," he writes, "to do my duty to the public, though I should incur the odium of the whole settlement. The welfare of the Company required a vigorous exertion, and I took the resolution of cleansing the Augean stable."
He began the work at once, and, undeterred by opposition, did not rest till he had placed the Indian Civil Service on the upward path to its present honoured and honourable position. Perquisites and presents were swept away; unbia.s.sed authority given in exchange.
The only real political work of the next two years was his treatment of, and treaty with, the Prince-Royal-Emperor, Shah-alam, who was more than ever a puppet king after the victory at Buxar, when he had thrown himself on the protection of the English. So anxious, indeed, was he to secure this, that before the answer to his pet.i.tion was received from Calcutta, he encamped every night as close to the British army as he could for safety!
The treaty into which he then entered contained an important stipulation that the Company should a.s.sist him to recover the territories usurped by his late ally Sujah-daula, Wazir of Oude.
Hearing of this the Wazir immediately prepared for resistance by joining forces with Ghazi-ud-din, the murderous minister at Delhi, and with some bands of Rohillas and Mahrattas.
But they were poor allies, and Clive, coming to the problem with his clear head, proceeded to settle it with a high hand. Sujah-daula was left with his territories, save for the district around Allahabad, which was ceded to Shah-alam, the so-called emperor, who was also to receive 260,000 a year as the revenue of Bengal. This was to be payable, not as in the past, by the Nawab, but by the East India Company itself, who thus became the real masters of the country, and so responsible for its administration, its defences; the Nawab, Nujam-ud-daula, reverting to the position of pensioner, a position which he accepted gladly with the remark: "Thank G.o.d! I shall now have as many dancing-girls as I please!"
That the bargains were hard all round none can deny, but it is difficult to see, as has been stated, that Clive derived any pecuniary benefit from them.
On the contrary, it may be observed that special precautions were taken to ensure the legality of the compromise which Clive had entered into with the Directors regarding his _jaghir_, when the public interests, by recalling him to duty, had made some quicker settlement of the question than that of a Chancery suit necessary. Now this compromise, which gave him the revenues for ten years only, or till his death, whichever was the shortest period, was not very favourable to Clive. Its continuance, therefore, should not be urged, as it often is, as proof of his rapacity.
The problem which next employed him was one of extreme difficulty. It was an enquiry into the conduct of officers in regard to their new covenants which prohibited the receiving of presents. As a result of this, ten officials who were dismissed for corruption went naturally to join the ranks of Clive"s many enemies.
The question of private trade still remained, and was more difficult of settlement. For the salary of a member of Council was but 350, and he could not keep up the dignity of his position on less than 3,000.
Clive settled this in a somewhat makeshift way, but it is worthy of note that though as governor his pay was largely enhanced by the new scheme, he did not personally take one penny of it, for he had declared his intention of not deriving any pecuniary advantage from his position. The money was spent in augmenting the salaries of his office. All this caused much indignation; many of the Council retired, and to fill their places Clive had the temerity to import outsiders.
No sooner was this over than almost every officer of the army mutinied over the withdrawal of double _batta_, or war allowances. No less than two hundred commissions were resigned, and the outlook was black.
Clive set his teeth, and though one of the brigades sent in their resignations _en bloc_ in the very face of an enemy, he won through by indomitable firmness, unending patience. The officers of the European regiment at Allahabad gave most trouble, but a battalion of sepoys, marching 104 miles in fifty-four hours, brought them to reason sharply.
So, when the fight was over, and the ringleaders--only six officers--were tried and punished most leniently (the Mutiny Act of the Company"s service proving defective), Clive founded the military fund which still goes by his name, and which has been, and is still, a boon to many a poor widow. Its nucleus was Clive"s gift of 63,000.
But his health was failing. His last act ere leaving for England--never to return--in 1767 was to attend a conference between Shah-alam"s representatives, Sujah-daula, now the Nawab of Oude, and some Mahratta deputies. The question was a proposal to regain Delhi for the emperor, with the aid of the Company"s troops.
Clive at once negatived it. He saw the Mahrattas were now the only possible enemies to peace from whom danger was to be apprehended, and he declined to aid them in any way. On the contrary, he urged the foundation of a confederacy to repel their incursions.
This was his last attempt at diplomacy. He left for England, to find disgrace and disillusionment awaiting him. He had made hundreds, almost thousands of enemies by his just reforms, and with a British public ready, as ever, to be gulled, they had their opportunity. There is no more pitiful and pitiable reading than these records--and in the case of Burke"s famous impeachment of Warren Hastings they run to volumes--of these tortuous attempts to twist Western standards of ethics to fit Oriental actions. Putting aside the _animus_, the devilish desire for revenge which inspires most of them, the absolute ignorance of what may be called the atmospheric conditions of India in them remains appalling.
True, Clive had taken 180,000 as his share, when Mir-Jaffar was enthroned. What then? It was a trifle in comparison with the _sunnuds_ gifted to _omrahs_ of the court by many a native princ.i.p.ality and power to those who served it well. And there was no rule against the reception of honours or presents. Certainly, also, as one follows Clive through all his great services, one can but say that rapacity shows far less in him than in his compeers; one can but echo the words in which the Company, at the time of his departure, summed up those services.
"Your own example has been the princ.i.p.al means of restraining the general rapaciousness and corruption which had brought our affairs to the brink of ruin."
Now, however, by the machinations of those whom he had checked, he was brought to plead for bare honour before the bar of the House of Lords.
"Before I sit down I have one request to make this a.s.sembly, and that is, that when they come to decide upon my honour they will not forget their own."
So he appealed, and the appeal was not fruitless: England was spared the disgrace which France had brought on herself by her treatment of Labourdonnais, Dupleix, and Lally.
But the verdict, that "Robert, Lord Clive, as Commander-in-Chief, had taken a sum of 280,000," but that "at the same time he had rendered great and meritorious services to his country," was not one to satisfy Robert Clive.
He was ill; he suffered from an excruciating disease which opium alleviated, and he ended all his troubles by an overdose of the drug a few months after the day when, with an intolerable sense of injustice at his heart, he quitted the tribunal before which he had been so maliciously arraigned.
For, as he said in his defence, sixteen long years had pa.s.sed since the offence--if offence there had been--was committed; sixteen long years of silence, of confidence well repaid by faithful service.
HYDER-ALI ET ALIA
A.D. 1767 TO A.D. 1773