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HOW THE WAR IN THE KARNÁTIK AFFECTED THE FRENCH AND ENGLISH SETTLEMENTS

The trouble came from the Karnátik. The family of the chief who had held the position of Nawáb at the time of the death of Aurangzeb had adopted the new fashion, then becoming universal, of making the post hereditary in his family. Saádat-ullá Khán, the Nawáb in question, had himself been regularly appointed in 1710 by the court of Delhi. After a peaceful rule of twenty-two years he had died (1732) without issue, after having appointed his nephew, Dost Alí, to succeed him as Nawáb, the younger brother of Dost Alí, Bakar Alí, to be governor of the fort and district of Vellore; and Ghulám Husén, the nephew of his favourite wife, better known as Chánda Sáhib, to be Diwán, or prime minister, to his successor.

These dispositions were carried out. But they were by no means pleasing to the Súbahdár of the Deccan, the Nizám-ul-Múlk to whom the reader has been introduced. That eminent nobleman was not content that his subordinates should act as he was prepared to act himself. His sanction had not been obtained to the transaction. He used then his influence at Delhi to prevent the confirmation which, even in those disturbed times, every chieftain sought to obtain for every act of spoliation. For the moment he proceeded no further. He was content to leave Dost Alí in the position of a nobleman ruling without the authority of his liege lord, himself, or of the master of both, the court of Delhi.

Nizám-ul-Múlk had justly thought that time would avenge him. Four years after his accession, the death of the ruler of Trichinopoli induced Dost Alí to send an army under his son Safdar Alí and his Diwán Chánda Sáhib, to capture that fortress. Under the pretence of collecting revenue these two princes visited Madras and Pondicherry in their progress southwards, and at the latter place Chánda Sáhib entered into those intimate relations with the French which were to influence greatly the events which were to follow. They proceeded thence to Trichinopoli and took possession of the fortress, the widowed queen having, it is said, fallen in love with Chánda Sáhib. The latter remained there as governor, whilst Safdar Alí returned to his father at Arcot.

The new Diwán appointed in the place of Chánda Sáhib, Mír Ásad, began at once to insinuate charges of ambition against his predecessor, and expressed his opinion that Chánda Sáhib, once ruler of Trichinopoli, would not easily let go his hold. In this opinion he was supported by the Nawáb's eldest son, Safdar Jang. Doubtless they were right, but their utterances, freely expressed, served only to put Chánda Sáhib on his guard; and he commenced to store the fortress with provisions.

The acquisition of Trichinopoli by the Nawáb of the Karnátik had served only to inflame the mind of his liege lord, Nizám-ul-Múlk, against him. For a time, however, the disorders in Northern India, the threatened invasion of Nadír Sháh, and, finally, that invasion, held his hand. At last, however, his wrath over-mastered his judgement, and, in 1739, at the very time when the invasion of Nadír Sháh was in full swing, he gave permission to the Maráthás to attack Trichinopoli. In May of the following year, 1740, consequently, a Maráthá army of 10,000 men, led by Raghují Bhonsla, entered the Karnátik, met the hurriedly raised force of Dost Alí at the Damalcherri Pass, defeated it with great slaughter, and took prisoner the Diwán, Mír Ásad. Dost Alí was among the slain. The victors, then, listening to the persuasions of their prisoner, the Diwán, agreed to quit the province on receiving a payment, at stated intervals, of a total sum of ten million of rupees. Safdar Alí was then proclaimed Nawáb at Arcot, and Chánda Sáhib proceeded thither to do him homage.

During the preceding two years the French governor of Pondicherry, M. Dumas, had so strengthened the fortifications of that town, that it had come to be regarded by the natives as impregnable. During the Maráthá invasion, then, Chánda Sáhib had sent thither his family, and his example had been followed by Safdar Alí. After the installation of the latter at Arcot, the two princes proceeded to visit the French governor, who gave them a magnificent reception. On leaving, Safdar Alí took with him his family, whilst Chánda Sáhib, still suspecting danger, directed his own wives to remain at Pondicherry until events should more clearly develop themselves.

He had not to wait long. Safdar Alí, jealous of his prosperity, had induced the Maráthás, never unwilling, to make a fresh incursion into the Karnátik, and to dispose of Chánda Sáhib. In December of the same year then, just four years before Clive landed in India, those warriors entered the province, so deceived Chánda Sáhib as to induce him to sell them the ample stores of grain he had collected, and, as soon as they had received them, laid siege to Trichinopoli. Chánda Sáhib sustained a siege of nearly three months with great resolution, but then, his remaining stores of grain having been exhausted, was forced to surrender (March 26, 1741). The Maráthás, having plundered the town, departed for Sátára, taking with them Chánda Sáhib in close custody, and leaving one of their most famous leaders, of whom we shall hear further, Morári Ráo, with 14,000 of their best troops, to guard the place, and to act as discretion or greed might suggest.

The events I have recorded had encouraged among the nobles of the province a spirit of disorder in sympathy with the times. No man felt quite safe. Safdar Alí himself, but half reassured, sent for safety his family to the custody of the English at Madras, whilst, quitting the comparatively defenceless Arcot, he took up his abode in the strong fortress of Vellore. There his treasures had been stored, and there Murtizá Alí, who had married his sister, was governor. This man was treacherous, cowardly, and very ambitious. No sooner had he understood that his relationship by marriage did not shield him from the payment of money due to the Nawáb, than he proceeded to debauch the army, and to enlist on his side the neighbouring nobles. He then poisoned his brother-in-law. The poison not taking immediate effect, he persuaded a Patán to stab the Nawáb to the heart. He then declared himself Nawáb.

He was proclaimed alike at Vellore and Arcot. But his usurpation did not last long. Even in those days there was a public conscience, and the murder he had committed had been too brutal not to arouse indignation. The army rose against him. Fearing for his life, he disguised himself in woman's clothes, and escaped to Vellore.

On the flight of Murtizá Alí becoming known the army proclaimed Saiyud Muhammad Khán, the son of Safdar Alí, then residing at Madras under the protection of the English, to be Nawáb. The young prince and his mother were at once removed to the fort of Wandiwash, the ruler of which had married his father's sister.

It was this moment that Nizám-ul-Múlk chose as the time to intervene. Entering Arcot at the head of a large army (March, 1743) he completely pacified the province; then, marching on Trichinopoli, compelled the Maráthás to yield it and to evacuate the Karnátik. Possessing himself of the person of the newly proclaimed Nawáb, whom he declined to recognize, he proclaimed his own commander-in-chief, Khojá Abdullah, to be Nawáb of the Karnátik, and then returned to Golconda.

Unfortunately for the peace of the province Khojá Abdullah, a strong man, never took up the government of the Karnátik. He had returned with his master to Golconda, and had made there his preparations to set out. On the very morning which he had chosen for that purpose he was found dead in his bed. It was clear that he had been poisoned. Suspicion fell at once upon the nobleman who had originally been an urgent candidate for the office, and who now obtained it. He was an experienced soldier of good family, whose name was Anwar-ud-dín.

Nizám-ul-Múlk knew that the appointment would not be popular in the province so long as there should remain alive any member of the family of Saádat-ullá. He had therefore announced that the appointment of Anwar-ud-dín was provisional, and that the young prince, Saiyud Muhammad, already proclaimed Nawáb, should succeed to that post on his arriving at the age of manhood, remaining during the interval under the guardianship of Anwar-ud-dín, to be by him instructed in the art of governing. Anwar-ud-dín promised to carry out the will of his liege lord, and on his arrival in the Karnátik, assigned to the young prince the fort of Arcot, with a sufficient retinue of Patán soldiers. There the boy remained, treated with the deference due to his position.

But he was doomed. A few weeks after his arrival at Arcot it devolved upon him to preside at the wedding of one of his near relations. Amongst those who came to the ceremony was the murderer of his father, Murtizá Alí, laden with presents for the bridegroom. Strange as it may seem, the murderer was courteously received. But shortly after his entrance within the fort an unseemly disturbance was created by the disorderly entrance into the presence of thirteen Patán soldiers, who insolently demanded payment of the arrears they alleged to be due to them. With some difficulty they were forcibly ejected. But in the evening, as Anwar-ud-dín approached, attended by his courtiers and preceded by his guards, these thirteen Patáns managed to mingle with the latter, and one of them, rushing towards the daïs on which was the chair occupied by the young prince, ascended the steps leading to it, and, in a supplicatory attitude, made as though he would throw himself at his feet and demand pardon for the offence of the morning. But instead of this he plunged his dagger, which he had concealed on his person, into the prince's heart. He was almost instantly cut down by the attendants. The confusion was extreme. Suddenly it was discovered that Murtizá Alí had quitted the fort, had mounted his horse, and, accompanied by his armed followers, had galloped towards Vellore. Suspicion naturally fell upon this proved murderer, and the nobles generally endeavoured to exculpate themselves at his expense.

But suspicion fell likewise upon Anwar-ud-dín. Who, so much as he, would benefit by the death of Saiyud Muhammad? He was practically only guardian to the young prince, bound to resign his office as soon as the latter should attain his majority. Nor were these suspicions lessened when it was found that Nizám-ul-Múlk at once transmitted to Anwar-ud-dín a complete commission as Nawáb of Arcot. Vainly did the Nawáb deny all complicity in the bloody deed. Murtizá Alí was silent. 'It was supposed,' wrote Mr. Orme, 'that the only proofs he could have brought against Anwar-ud-dín would at the same time have condemned himself.' And this probably was true.

Such then was the political position in Southern India when Clive landed at Madras in 1744. The titular Emperor of Delhi was Muhammad Sháh, still reeling under the consequences of the invasion of Nadír Sháh and the sack of Delhi but five short years previously. The Súbahdár of the Deccan was still Nizám-ul-Múlk, possessing sufficient influence to have secured the succession in Southern India for his second son, Nasír Jang.¹ The Nawáb of the Karnátik, styled officially, of Arcot, was a stranger to the province, the unpopular and suspected Anwar-ud-dín. His authority there was not very secure. There were many pretenders waiting for the first mishap: amongst them his confederate in the murder of Saiyud Muhammad; Chánda Sáhib, still in confinement at Sátára; and many others. The elements of danger abounded everywhere. There were few petty chiefs who did not dub themselves 'Nawábs,' and aspire to positions higher than those held by them at the moment. The match alone was wanting to produce a general flame.

¹ Elliot's History of India as told by its own Historians, vol. viii. p. 113.

Under ordinary circumstances this state of affairs would not necessarily have affected the European settlers on the coast. But for them, too, the crisis was approaching. In 1740 the death of the Emperor, Charles VI, had thrown the greater part of Europe into a blaze. Three years later England had entered the field as an upholder of the Pragmatic Sanction. The news of this intervention, which necessitated war with France, reached India towards the close of 1744, and immediately affected the relations towards one another of the rival settlements on the Coromandel coast.