en. But Clive had
waited too; and when the Frenchmen emerged, he received them with a
volley which shot down twelve of them. They hurried back to their
place of shelter, when Clive, wishing to stop the effusion of blood,
me to the front, pointed out to them their hopeless position, and
offered them terms. One of them, an Irishman, levelled his musket at
Clive, and fired point-blank at him. The ball missed Clive, but
traversed the bodies of two sergeants behind him. The French
commander showed his disapproval of the act by surrendering with his
whole force. Clive had {73}sent the Marathas and the cavalry to
pursue the French sipahis. These caught them, and cut them up, it is
said, to a man.

Thus ended the affair at Samiaveram. I have been particular in giving
the details which illustrate the action of Clive, because they bring
home to the reader the man as he was: a man not to be daunted, clear
and cool-headed under the greatest difficulties; a born leader;
resolute in action; merciful as soon as the difficulties had been
overcome: a man, as Carlyle wrote of another, not less distinguished
in his way, 'who will glare fiercely on an object, and see through
it, and conquer it; for he has intellect, he has will, force beyond
other men.'

The end was now approaching. On the 15th of May, Clive captured
Paichanda. He then marched on Utatur, forced d'Auteuil to retreat on
Volkonda, and, following him thither, compelled him (May 29) to
surrender. Three days later Law followed his example. The entire
French force before Trichinopoli gave itself up to Major Lawrence.
Its native allies did the same. The one regrettable circumstance in
the transaction was the murder of Chanda Sahib at the instance of his
rival.

After this, Clive returned to Fort St. David; was employed during the
fall of the year in reducing places which still held out against the
Nawab. This campaign tried his constitution, already somewhat
impaired, very severely, and on its conclusion, in the beginning of
October, he proceeded to Madras to rest {74}from his labours. There
he married Miss Maskeleyne, the sister of a fellow-writer, with whom,
in the earlier days of his Indian life, he had contracted a
friendship. But his health continued to deteriorate, and he was
forced to apply for leave to visit Europe. This having been granted,
he quitted Madras in February, 1753, full of glory. His character had
created his career. But for his daring, his prescience, hi