t four
o'clock on the morning of the 23rd, having made a forced march, with
a rest of five hours, of forty-five miles. It was then nine o'clock
in the morning, and he resolved to rest for the day.

But, after his men had slept a few hours, the anxiety of Clive
regarding Arcot impelled him to break their slumbers, and order them
forward. They set out accordingly about one o'clock, and about sunset
came in sight of Kaveripak, but not of the French hidden in front of
it. The French leader, in fact, had laid his plans with the greatest
skill. A thick mango-grove, covered along two sides by a ditch and
bank, forming almost a redoubt, roughly fortified along the faces by
which the English must advance, covered the ground about 250 yards to
the left of the road looking eastwards. There the French {65}had
placed, concealed from view, their battery of nine guns and a portion
of their best men. About a hundred yards to the right of the road,
also looking eastwards, was a dry watercourse, along the bed of which
troops could march, sheltered, to a great extent, from hostile fire.
In this were massed the rest of the infantry, native and European.
The cavalry was in the rear, hidden by the grove, ready to be
launched on the enemy when they should reach the ground between the
watercourse and the grove. The men were on the alert, expecting
Clive.

The space at my disposal will not permit me to give the details of
the remarkable battle[2] which followed. It must suffice to say that
no battle that was ever fought brought into greater prominence the
character of its commander. In the fight before Kaveripak we see
Clive at his best. He had marched straight into the trap, and,
humanly speaking, was lost. It was his cool courage, his calmness in
danger, his clearness of mind in circumstances of extraordinary
difficulty, his wonderful accuracy of vision, the power he possessed
of taking in every point of a position, and of at once utilizing his
knowledge, that saved him. He was, I repeat, lost. He had entered the
trap, and its doors were fast closing upon him. Bravely did his men
fight to extricate him from the danger. Their efforts were
unavailing. Soon it came about that the necessity to retreat
{66}entered almost every mind but his own. Even the great historian
of the period, Mr. Orme, wrote that 'prudence counselled retreat.'
But to the word prudence Clive applied a different meaning. To him
prudence was boldness. What was to become of