nquish the siege of Trichinopoly in order to retake
his capital. But Clive so intrenched his followers, that they
successfully defended the place after exhibiting prodigies of valor.
The fortune of war turned to the side of the gallant Englishman, and
Dupleix, who was no general, retreated before the victors. Clive
obtained the command of Fort St. David, an important fortress near
Madras, and soon controlled the Carnatic.

About this time, the settlements on the Hooghly were plundered by
Suraj-w Dowlah, Viceroy of Bengal. Bengal was the most fertile and
populous province of the empire of the Great Mogul. It was watered by
the Ganges, the sacred river of India, and its cities were
surprisingly rich. Its capital was Moorshedabad, a city nearly as
large as London; and here the young viceroy lived in luxury and
effeminacy, and indulged in every species of cruelty and folly. He
hated the English of Calcutta, and longed to plunder them. He
accordingly seized the infant city, and shut up one hundred and forty
of the colonists in a dungeon of the fort, a room twenty feet by
fourteen, with only two small windows; and in a few hours, one hundred
and seventeen of the English died. The horrors of that night have been
splendidly painted by Macaulay in his essay on Clive, and the place of
torment, called the _Black Hole of Calcutta_, is synonymous with
suffering and misery. Clive resolved to avenge this insult to his
countrymen. An expedition was fitted out at Madras to punish the
inhuman nabob, consisting of nine hundred Europeans and fifteen
hundred sepoys. It was a small force, but proved sufficient. Calcutta
was recovered and the army of the nabob was routed. Clive intrigued
with the enemies of the despot in his own city; and, by means of
unparalleled treachery, dissimulation, art, and violence, Suraj-w
Dowlah was deposed, and Meer Jaffier, one of the conspirators, was
made nabob in his place. In return for the services of Clive, the new
viceroy splendidly rewarded him. A hundred boats conveyed the
treasures of Bengal down the river to Calcutta. Clive himself, who had
walked between heaps of gold and silver, crowned with diamonds and
rubies, condescended to receive a present of three hundred thousand
pounds. His moderation has been commended by his biographers in not
asking for a million.

The elevation of Meer Jaffier was, of course, displeasing to the
imbecile Emperor of India, and a large army was sent to dethrone him.
The