Chapter 6

The king certainly did everything to deserve the favorable opinion entertained of him. Arts, science, commerce, and agriculture were encouraged; more than one hundred and thirty villages sprang up on newly drained lands along the banks of the Oder; men of letters and talents were brought to Berlin; theatres, operas, ballets, were established; a sort of German Versailles arose amid the sands of Brandenburg; and the "Garden House outside the gate," which was Frederick William's summer residence and place of recreation, soon sank down to the humble rank of a gardener's lodge to his son's palace! The machinery of government was never carried on with such perfect regularity. The king superintended the whole himself, and that without any regular intercourse with his ministers, some of whom, it is said, he never saw in his life. They furnished him every morning with abridged statements of the business to be transacted, and he wrote his order on the margin of the paper; the affairs of state were all settled in a couple of hours. Literary compositions, in prose and verse, military reviews, meals, and conversation, filled up the rest of the day. "Frederick," says Voltaire, in his vile and mischievous "Memoires," "governed without court, council, or religious establishment" (_culte_). It was during this brilliant period of the king's reign that the French poet passed some time at Berlin.

The Austrians, who had ridiculed the drilling and powdering, had paid for their folly in many a bloody field, but had profited by the lesson, and could now move as accurately and fire as quickly as their neighbors. The first combat of the great Seven Years' War, which began in 1756, already proved this to the conviction of all parties. The Prussians purchased a slight advantage by a great loss of blood; and on the very battle-field the general remark was, "These are no longer the old Austrians." On the capture of the Saxon army, which surrendered at Pirna, Frederick, who exacted such unlimited allegiance from his subjects and soldiers, gave a strange proof of inconsistency, and of that contempt with which he seemed to treat the feelings of other men; for, without so much as asking their consent, he ordered all the prisoners to be incorporated into the ranks of his army, and expected to make loyal Prussians of them by merely changing their uniforms. As was to be expected, they deserted immediately.

The progress of the war is out of our province. Spoiled by success, Frederick, after gaining the dearly purchased victory of Prague, attempted to reduce a city which he could not invest, and in which an army was concentrated. The Austrians advanced with 60,000 men to raise the siege; and the presumptuous king did not hesitate to rush upon them with less than half the number of Prussians; a total defeat, the first he had yet sustained, was the consequence. From this day it is allowed that the Prussian infantry had no longer any superiority over their enemies; henceforth the genius of their sovereign, the confidence he inspired, and the dread entertained of him by his adversaries, are the only advantages they have to depend upon. In the second year of the war he writes to La Motte Fouque,--"Owing to the great losses sustained, our infantry is very much degenerated from what it formerly was, and must not be employed on difficult undertakings." In the third year he says to the same,--"Care must be taken not to render our people timid; they are too much so by nature already."

Of this battle of Collin we must here report an anecdote characteristic of what Frederick _then_ was. The left wing of the Prussian army was obliquing in admirable order to the left, and already gaining the right of the Austrians, according to the prescribed disposition, when the king, at once losing patience in the most unaccountable manner, sent directions to Prince Maurice of Dessau, who commanded the infantry, ordering him to wheel up and advance upon the enemy. The prince told the officer that the proposed points had not yet been attained, and recommended that the oblique march should still be continued. The king immediately came up in person, and in haughty and overbearing style repeated the order, and, when the Prince of Dessau attempted to explain, drew his sword, and in a fiery and threatening tone exclaimed, "Will he (_er_) obey, and immediately wheel up and advance?" The officers present were terrified, fancying from his excited manner that he would be guilty of some act of violence; but the prince, of course, bowed and obeyed, and--the battle was soon lost.

Frederick, as an absolute king and commander, had, no doubt, many advantages over the ill-combined coalition by which he was assailed; but the mass of brute force was so great on the part of his adversaries, that he was more than once on the very eve of being crushed. At one time, indeed, he contemplated the commission of suicide.

The wonderful battles of Rossbach and Leuthen[1] reconciled him to life. The former was not, as is well known, his work, as it was almost gained before he well knew what was going on: it was due principally to the indomitable bravery of Zeidlitz and the cavalry. His conduct at Leuthen could not be surpassed; and his manner of promoting General Prince Maurice of Dessau, who had most nobly aided him in the battle, was highly characteristic. "I congratulate you on the victory, _Field-marshal_," said Frederick, when they met on the field. The prince was still so much occupied with what was going forward, that he did not mark the exact words the king had used, till the latter again called out, "Don't you hear, _Field-marshal_, that I congratulate you on the victory gained?" when the newly promoted made due acknowledgments in course. Frederick, in his great contest, was assisted by an English, Hessian, and Hanoverian army, as well as by English subsidies; but, making full allowance for the value of these auxiliaries, it must still be admitted that great genius and courage were required to enable a King of Prussia to resist the combined forces of France, Austria, Russia, and Sweden. Frederick effected this, and his conduct deservedly obtained for him the name of "Great."

[Footnote 1: It was the evening succeeding this battle of Leuthen that Frederick, himself leading the advance after the flying Austrians, entered the little town of Lissa, where a body of the enemy, never dreaming the pursuit could reach so far, were resting for the night. Frederick was as surprised as they when, on entering a room of the principal inn, he found it filled with Austrian officers. He had but a handful of troops with him, and, had his enemies known it, was their prisoner. But with the utmost coolness he saluted them, "Good-evening, gentlemen. Is there still room for me, think you?" Whereon the frightened Austrians, thinking themselves surrounded by the whole Prussian army, decamped in wild haste, and getting their troops together as they could, fled from the dangerous neighborhood.]

During his first two wars, and till the period of the battle of Rossbach in the third war, he always kept at a distance from the scene, which may be allowed in a commander who has to overlook the whole, and is not called upon to defend posts or lead attacks in person. After the above period, however, and when he perceived that the nature of the contest, and public opinion itself, demanded greater exertions from him, he several times, on due deliberation, exposed himself to the danger of an ordinary brigadier. Several occasions of this kind might be specified. At the Battle of Kunersdorf, when attempting to assemble some remnants of the infantry, who were still holding their ground here and there, his horse was shot under him. At Liegnitz, a spent ball struck him on the calf of the leg. At Torgau again, when a newly advanced brigade began to give way, like all its predecessors, he rode into the heaviest fire of musketry, and received a shot on the breast, which penetrated his shirt, and for some moments deprived him so completely of all power of breathing, that he was believed to be dead.[2]

[Footnote 2: This battle of Torgau, Frederick planned to win by a flank attack; but the flanking column was delayed in its march, and at evening the king found himself everywhere beaten back. His last chance of success against his many opponents seemed lost: and he spent the night seated in the church at Elsnig, in such mood as may be imagined. During the night the flanking column at last arrived, fell on the enemy, and crushed them. This was the last of Frederick's great battles.]

Frederick outlived his last great war for twenty-three years, and died in 1786, in the seventy-fourth year of his age. Every hour of this last period of his life was assiduously occupied, almost to the hour of his death, in zealous exertions to improve his country and ameliorate the condition of his people. He certainly effected great things, but left much that he might have achieved totally unattempted. Living in the solitude which his dazzling fame had cast around him, separated from all immediate intercourse with his species by the very barrier his glory had interposed between him and other men, he acted his part to admiration before the crowds who, from far and near, came to behold him; but, blinded by the halo that encompassed him, he saw little, and deemed less, perhaps, of mankind and their doings. In the mass they may possibly not be deserving of high admiration, but Frederick had never done them even justice; and in the latter years of his life, he entirely lost sight of the direction they were taking; he formed an ideal world to himself, and governed his country and subjects accordingly. He was the admired wonder of the age; a brilliant, if not spotless sun, that cast far aloft its vivid beams, indeed, but remained stationary and concentrated within itself, while all surrounding nature was in motion and in progress.

ROBERT, LORD CLIVE

By W. C. TAYLOR, LL.D.

(1725-1774)

The history of British India is without a parallel in the annals of mankind. It is little over a hundred years ago since "the company of British merchants trading with the East Indies" possessed nothing more than a few ports favorably situated for commerce, held at the will, or rather the caprice, of the native princes, and defended against commercial rivals by miserable fortifications, which could not have resisted any serious attack. Now British sovereignty in India extends over an empire greater than that possessed by Alexander or the Caesars, and probably superior to both in the amount of its wealth and population. The chief agent in raising the East India Company from a trading association to a sovereign power was Lord Clive, whose own elevation was scarcely less marvellous than that of the empire which he founded.

Robert Clive was born September 29, 1725; his father was a country gentleman, of moderate fortune and still more moderate capacity, who cultivated his own estate in Shropshire. When a boy, the future hero of India distinguished himself chiefly by wild deeds of daring and courage, neglecting the opportunities of storing his mind with information, the want of which he bitterly felt in after-life. His violent temper, and his neglect of study, led his family to despair of his success at home, and, in his eighteenth year, he was sent out as a "writer," in the service of the East India Company, to the Presidency of Madras. In our day such an appointment would be considered a fair provision for a young man, holding out, besides, a reasonable prospect of obtaining competency, if not fortune; but when Clive went to the East the younger "writers," or clerks, were so badly paid, that they could scarcely subsist without getting into debt, while their seniors enriched themselves by trading on their own account. The voyage out, from England to Madras, which is now effected in three or four weeks, occupied, at that time, from six months to a year. Clive's voyage was more than usually tedious; the ship was detained for a considerable period at the Brazils, where he picked up some knowledge of Portuguese, and contracted some heavy debts. This apparent misfortune had the good effect of compelling him to reflect on his situation. He avoided all amusements and dissipation, but availed himself of the resources of the governor's library, which was liberally opened to him in his hours of leisure. He, however, felt himself unhappy, for his occupations were unsuited to his tastes, and he longed for an opportunity of finding a mode of life more congenial to his disposition.

The war of the Austrian Succession, in which George II. took the side of the empress, while the French king supported her competitor, extended to the Eastern World. Labourdonnais, the governor of the French colony in the Mauritius, suddenly appeared before Madras, and, as the town and fort were not prepared for defence, both were surrendered on honorable terms. But Dupleix, the French governor of Pondicherry, denying the right of Labourdonnais to grant any terms, refused to ratify the capitulation, and directed Madras to be razed to the ground. With still greater disregard for public faith, he led the English who had capitulated through the town of Pondicherry, as captives gracing his triumphal procession, in the presence of 50,000 spectators. Clive escaped this outrage by flying from Madras in disguise; he took refuge at Fort St. David, a settlement subordinate to Madras, where he obtained from Major Lawrence, one of the best officers then in India, an ensign's commission in the service of the company.

Peace between England and France having been established, Madras was restored to its former owners. Clive, however, did not return to his civil pursuits; he occasionally acted as a writer, but he was more frequently employed as a soldier in the petty hostilities which arose between the English and the natives. Events, however, were now in progress, which made the French and English East India companies competitors for an empire, though neither understood the value of the prize for which they contended; and Clive, fortunately for his country and himself, was almost forced to take the position of a military commander.

To explain fully the position of India, at this period, would take far more pages than we can afford lines; a very brief sketch, may, however, help our readers to comprehend the course of events. India, in its entire extent, was nominally governed by the Emperor of Delhi, or, as he was generally, though absurdly, called in Europe, "the Great Mogul." Under him were several viceroys, each of whom ruled over as many subjects as any of the great sovereigns of Europe; and the delegates of these viceroys had a wider extent of territory than is included in most of the minor states of Germany. This empire began to lose its unity toward the close of the seventeenth century. The different viceroys, while professing a nominal allegiance to the crown of Delhi, established a substantial independence; several of their immediate vassals treated them as they had done the emperor; and several warlike tribes took advantage of this disorganization to plunder the defenceless provinces. Of these the most formidable were the Mahrattas, whose name was long the terror of the peninsula.

Dupleix, whose name has already been mentioned as the French governor of Pondicherry, was the first who conceived the possibility of establishing a European dominion on the ruins of the Delhi empire; and, for this purpose, he wisely resolved to attempt no direct conquest, but to place at the head of the different principalities, men who owed their elevation to his aid, and whose continuance in power would be dependent on his assistance. With this view he supported a claimant to the viceroyalty of the Deccan, and another to the subordinate government of the Carnatic; or, as the Indians term it, a rival nizam, and a rival nabob, against the princes already in possession of these territories. His efforts were equally splendid and successful; the competitors whom he had selected became masters of the kingdom, and he, as the bestower of such mighty prizes, began to be regarded as the greatest authority in India. The English were struck with astonishment, and, as there was peace with France, they were at a loss to determine on the line of conduct that they ought to pursue. Mohammed Ali, whom the English recognized as Nabob of the Carnatic, was reduced to the possession of the single town of Trichinopoly, and even that was invested by Chunda Sahib, the rival nabob, and his French auxiliaries. Under these circumstances Clive proposed to the Madras authorities the desperate expedient of seizing on Arcot, the capital of the Carnatic, and thus recalling Chunda Sahib from the siege of Trichinopoly. With a force of 200 Europeans and 300 Sepoys, under eight officers, four of whom had been taken from the counting-house, Clive surprised Arcot in the midst of a terrific storm, and the garrison fled without striking a blow. Being reinforced by large bodies of troops, the expelled garrison, swelled to the number of 3,000 men, formed an encampment near the town; but Clive took them by surprise in the night, slew great numbers, put the rest to flight, and returned to his quarters without a single casualty.

Chunda Sahib sent 10,000 men, including 150 French soldiers, under his son, Rajah Sahib, to recover Arcot. Clive's little garrison endured a siege of fifty days against this disproportionate force, and against the pressure of famine, which was early and severely felt. Nothing in history is equal to the proof of devotion which the native portion of this gallant little band gave to their beloved commander; the Sepoys came to Clive with a request that all the grain should be given to the Europeans, who required more nourishment than the natives of Asia, declaring that they would be satisfied with the thin gruel which strained away from the rice. Rajah Sahib at length made an attempt to take the place by storm; he was defeated with great loss, principally by Clive's personal exertions, upon which he abandoned the siege, leaving behind him a large quantity of military stores.

Clive followed up his victory with great vigor, and the government of Madras, encouraged by his success, resolved to send him with a strong detachment to reinforce the garrison of Trichinopoly. Just at this conjuncture, however, Major Lawrence returned from England and assumed the chief command. If Clive was mortified by the change, he soon overcame his feelings; he cheerfully placed himself under the command of his old friend, and exerted himself as strenuously in the second post as when he held the chief command. The French had no leaders fit to cope with the two friends, and the English triumphed everywhere. The besiegers of Trichinopoly were themselves besieged, and compelled to capitulate. Chunda Sahib fell into the hands of the Mahrattas, and was put to death at the instigation of his rival. The forts of Covelong and Chingleput were taken by Clive, though his forces consisted of raw recruits, little better than an undisciplined rabble. Dupleix, however, was not driven to despair, but still sought means of renewing the contest.

After the capture of Chingleput, Clive returned to Madras, where he married Miss Maskelyne, sister to the Astronomer Royal, and immediately after returned to England. He was received with great honors by the Court of Directors, and, through the influence of Lord Sandwich, obtained a seat in Parliament; but his election having been set aside, he again turned his thoughts toward India, where both the company and the government were eager to avail themselves of his services. The directors appointed him governor of Fort St. David; the king gave him the commission of a lieutenant-colonel in the British army; and thus doubly authorized, he returned to Asia in 1755.

The first service on which he was employed after his return to the East was the reduction of the stronghold of Gheriah. This fortress, built on a craggy promontory, and almost surrounded by the ocean, was the den of a pirate named Angria, whose ships had long been the terror of the Arabian seas. Admiral Watson, who commanded the English squadron, burned Angria's fleet, while Clive attacked the fastness by land. The place soon fell, and a booty of a hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling was divided among the conquerors.

About two months after Clive had entered on his government at Fort St. David, intelligence was received of the destruction of the English settlement at Calcutta by Surajah Dowlah, the Nabob of Bengal. Although scarcely any resistance had been made, the English prisoners, 146 in number, were all thrust into a close and narrow apartment called the Black Hole, which, in such a climate, would have been too close and too narrow for a single prisoner. Their sufferings during the dreadful night, until death put an end to the misery of most, cannot be described; 123 perished before morning, and the survivors had to be dug out of the heap formed by the dead bodies of their companions.

The authorities at Madras, on receiving this intelligence, resolved to avenge the outrage; 900 Europeans and 1,500 Sepoys, under the command of Clive, were embarked on board Admiral Watson's squadron; the passage was rendered tedious by adverse winds, but the armament arrived safely in Bengal. Clive proceeded with his usual promptitude; he routed the garrison which the nabob had placed in Fort William, recovered Calcutta, and took Hoogly by storm. Surajah Dowlah, who was as cowardly as he was cruel, now sought to negotiate peace, but at the same time he secretly urged the French to come to his assistance. This duplicity could not be concealed from Clive and Watson. They determined accordingly to attack Chandernagore, the chief possession of the French in Bengal, before the force there could be strengthened by new arrivals either from the South of India or Europe. Watson directed the expedition by water; Clive by land. The success of the combined movements was rapid and complete. The fort, the garrison, the artillery, the military stores, all fell into the hands of the English, and nearly five hundred European troops were among the prisoners.