ve, it is true, might have disregarded all native
intrigue, marched on Murshidabad, and at once held the delta of the
Ganges in the Company's name. But the time was not ripe for this, and
the consequences, with so small a force, might have been fatal. The idea
of acting directly as rulers, or save under native charters and names,
was not developed by events for half a century. The political morality
of the time in Europe, as well as the comparative weakness of the
Company in India, led Clive not only to meet the dishonesty of his
native associate by equal dishonesty, but to justify his conduct by the
declaration, years after, in parliament, that he would do the same
again. It became necessary to employ the richest Bengali trader,
Omichund, as an agent between Jafar Ali and the British officials.
Master of the secret of the confederacy against Suraj-ud-Dowlah, the
Bengali threatened to betray it unless he was guaranteed, in the treaty
itself, L300,000. To dupe the villain, who was really paid by both
sides, a second, or fictitious treaty, was shown him with a clause to
this effect. This Admiral Watson refused to sign; "but," Clive deponed
to the House of Commons, "to the best of his remembrance, he gave the
gentleman who carried it leave to sign his name upon it; his lordship
never made any secret of it; he thinks it warrantable in such a case,
and would do it again a hundred times; he had no interested motive in
doing it, and did it with a design of disappointing the expectations of
a rapacious man." Such is Clive's own defence of the one act which, in a
long career of abounding temptations, was of questionable honesty.

The whole hot season of 1757 was spent in these negotiations, till the
middle of June, when Clive began his march from Chandernagore, the
British in boats, and the sepoys along the right bank of the Hugli. That
river above Calcutta is, during the rainy season, fed by the overflow of
the Ganges to the north through three streams, which in the hot months
are nearly dry. On the left bank of the Bhagirathi, the most westerly of
these, 100 m. above Chandernagore, stands Murshidabad, the capital of
the Mogul viceroys of Bengal, and then so vast that Clive compared it to
the London of his day. Some miles farther down is the field of Plassey,
then an extensive grove of mango trees, of which enough yet remains, in
spite of the changing course of the stream, to enable the visitor to
realize the scene. On the 21st