unprejudiced mind, and to the severe regret of all lovers of their king and country, of every man who had any pride in the military glory of England, that the time which ought to have been employed in action, was spent in consultations and councils of war, and the proposed descent relinquished without any sufficient cause. In a word, the principal officers, admiral Hawke excepted, seemed desirous of avoiding a disembarkation. And their frequent consultations, notwithstanding the ardour of the troops, who were impatient to retrieve the honour of their country, seemed to have been more intended to frame a concerted apology for not making a descent, than to plan any scheme of attack or hostility.

While the people of Great Britain were mourning over this shameful miscarriage, which, joined to the accumulating misfortunes of the king of Prussia, and the mortifying convention of Closter-seven, exhibited a most melancholy picture of their affairs in Europe, those in America did not afford a more flattering prospect. Although a considerable reinforcement of troops had been sent thither, with a great supply of warlike stores, the third campaign served only to swell the triumphs of the enemy.

The attack upon Crown Point, so long meditated, was laid aside for an expedition against Louisbourg. The earl of Loudon accordingly left New York in July, with a body of six thousand men, and sailed for Halifax; where he was joined by admiral Holbourne with a considerable fleet, and about five thousand soldiers. But when the fleet and army were almost ready to proceed for Cape Breton, information was brought to Halifax, that the Brest fleet, consisting of seventeen ships of the line, beside frigates, with a reinforcement of troops, and an abundant supply of ammunition and provisions, had arrived at Louisbourg. This intelligence immediately suspended the preparations, and damped the ardour of the British officers. Councils of war were holden one after another; and the result of the whole was, that, as the place which had been the object of their armament was so amply reinforced, the French fleet rather superior to the Eng. lish, and the season of the year so far advanced, it was advisable to defer the enterprise to a more favourable conjuncture.

Thus terminated the projected expedition against Louisbourg, like that against Rochefort, in a manner inglorious to the British arms, and disgraceful to the spirit of the British officers. But those were not the worst consequences that attended it.

Since the reduction of Oswego, the French had remained masters of the great lakes: nor could the British forces prevent their collecting the Indians from all parts, and seducing or compelling them to act in their favour. The country of the Five Nations, the only body of Indians who preserved even the shadow of friendship to England, was abandoned to the mercy of the bar

barous enemy. The British ports at the great carrying-place were demolished, and Wood Creek was industriously shut up. In consequence of these unfortunate circumstances, all communication with our Indian allies was cut off; and what was still worse, the whole English frontier was exposed, with scarcely a shadow of protection, to the irruptions of the French and their desolating savages. The fine settlements on the Mohawk river, as well as on the ground called the German flats, were destroyed. Elate with these advantages, the French were ambitious of distinguishing the campaign by some important blow. And no sooner did the marquis de Montcalm learn, that lord Loudon, with the main body of the English forces, had left New York, than he determined to lay siege to Fort William Henry. This fort had been built on the southern side of Lake George, to cover the frontier of the British settlements, as well as to command the lake. The fortifications were good, and the place was defended by about two thousand five hundred men, under colonel Monro. Nor were those its only security. Four thousand five hundred men, commanded by general Webb, were posted at no great distance, and a much greater force might have been assembled. The French troops, collected from Crown Point, Ticonderoga, and the adjacent forts, together with a party of Indians and Canadians, are said to have amounted to nine thousand men. With these, and a good train of artillery, Montcalm advanced against the object of his enterprise, while Webb beheld his approaches with an indifference bordering on infatuation, or intimately allied to baseness. In a word, the besiegers, meeting with no obstruction from the quarter whence they dreaded it most, obliged the fort to surrender. They allowed the garrison by the articles of capitulation, to march out with the honours of war. But the Indians pillaged the soldiers as soon as they left the place, and fiercely attacked the savages in the English service, dragging them out of their ranks, scalping them, and exercising every species of cruelty known among the natives of North America1. And what is yet more extraordinary, and what it is to be hoped posterity will not credit, two thousand Britons, with arms in their hands, and in danger every moment of becoming the victims of such violence, remained tame spectators of these barbarities, or sought safety only in flight!

The marquis de Montcalm, however, who was not destitute of a generous spirit, was able at length to quell the fury of the savages, and treated the sufferers with humanity. Yet from his summons to colonel Monro, when he began the siege, we may infer, that he meant, in case of resistance, to strike terror into the British troops by a new display of Indian cruelty. “I am

1 These barbarities are strongly delineated in many letters from the officers, written after their arrival at New York.

still able,” says he, "to restrain the savages, and to oblige them to observe a capitulation, as none of them have been killed; but this control will not be in my power in other circumstances."

When intelligence of these new losses and disgraces arrived in England, the people, already sufficiently mortified sunk into a general despondency. And some moral and political writers, who pretended to foretell the ruin of the nation, and ascribed its misfortunes to a total corruption of manners and principles, and an extinction of martial spirit, obtained general credit. But the more zealous friends of the new administration, in conjunction with the younger officers of the army and navy, warmly vindicated the national character, and seemed to long for an opportunity of giving the lie to the visionary prognostics of splenetic theory and querulous melancholy. In the mean time public opinion, ever fluctuating, and wholly governed by events, took a less gloomy direction. The first ray of hope came from the East.

When admiral Watson returned to the coast of Coromandel, after reducing the fortress of Gheriah, he was informed of the loss of Calcutta, and of all the horrid circumstances with which it had been attended. Eager for revenge, he took on board Mr. Clive, now advanced to the rank of colonel, with part of the company's troops at Madras, and sailed for the bay of Bengal. By a zealous co-operation of the sea and land forces, the town and fort of Calcutta were recovered; and Mr. Drake and the members of the council were again put in possession of the government.

Not content with this success, the British commanders also reduced the large town of Ougli, where the soubahdar had established his principal magazines. Enraged at these losses, and dreading farther inquiry, Souraj-ud-Dowlah assembled a great army, and marched toward Calcutta, that he might severely chastise the audacity of the invaders, if not finally expel every Englishman from the province of Bengal. But he met with so warm a reception from colonel Clive, captain Coote, and other gallant officers, at the head of the company's troops, reinforced with six hundred sailors from the fleet, that he was induced to sue for peace, and agree to such terms as the English commanders thought proper to dictate. He engaged to restore all the factories, goods, and money, which had been seized by his orders; to reinstate the company in all its privileges; and allow the extension of the presidency over thirty-eight neighbouring

2 Of these writers the most distinguished was Dr. Brown, whose Estimate of the Manners and Principles of the Times, abounding with awful predictions, was bought up and read with incredible avidity, and seemed to be as much confided in as if he had been divinely inspired.

villages, conformably to a disputed grant that had been obtained from the great Mogul.

Apprised of the new war between France and Great Britain, and having nothing now to fear from the humbled soubahdar, Clive and his associates resolved to turn their arms against the French factories in Bengal. Their first object was the reduction of Chandernagore, the principal French settlement in the province, and a place of great strength. In the expedition against this town and fort, Clive commanded seven hundred Europeans, and sixteen hundred Sepoys, or soldiers of the country, habituated to the use of fire arms. The squadron, consisting of three sail of the line and a sloop, was conducted by the admirals Watson and Pocock. The place was defended by six hundred Europeans, and three hundred Sepoys, who gallantly disputed every post. But the powerful cannonade from the ships, and from two batteries, mounted with twenty-four pounders, that assailed with a cross-fire the two bastions of the fort against which the men-of-war laid their broadsides, obliged the garrison to surrender, after a short but vigorous conflict.

As conquest naturally expands the views of the conqueror, Clive, who was formed for vast undertakings, no sooner found himself in possession of Chandernagore, than he conceived the design of humbling still farther the soubahdar of Bengal, and of advancing to a yet greater height the interests of the company. And the conduct of that prince furnished him with many pretexts for renewing hostilities.

Souraj-ud-Dowlah was backward in fulfilling the treaty he had lately concluded with the company. He attempted to evade the execution of its chief articles: and he had entered into secret intrigues with the French, to whom he seemed disposed to afford protection in return for support. The English colonel therefore resolved to compel him to perform his stipulations; and, in case of refusal, to chastise him for his breach of faith, and even to divest him of his authority. In the last resolution he was confirmed (if it was not suggested) by a discovery of the disaffection of Jaffier, commander in chief of the forces of the province, and of the intrigues of the soubahdar with the French officers in the Dekan.

The measures employed by Clive, to accomplish this revolution, do no less honour to his sagacity and address, as a politician, than to his vigour and skill as a commander. While he conducted an intricate and dangerous negotiation with Jaffier by means of his agents, he counterfeited friendship so artfully, as not only to quiet the suspicions of the despot, but to induce him to dissolve his army, which had been assembled at Plassy, a strong camp to the south of his capital, before the taking of

Chandernagore, in consequence of a report, that the English commander intended to attack Mourshed-abad. "Why do you keep your forces in the field," said he insidiously, "after so many marks of friendship and confidence ?-They distress the merchants, and prevent us from renewing our trade. The English cannot remain in Bengal without freedom of commerce. Do not reduce us to the necessity of suspecting, that you mean to destroy us as soon as you have an opportunity." To quiet these pretended fears, Souraj-ud-Dowlah recalled his army, though not without great anxiety. "If," cried he, with keen emotion, "the colonel should deceive me !"—And the secret departure of the English agents from Mourshed-abad soon convinced him that he was deceived. He again assembled his army, and ordered it to re-occupy the camp of Plassy; after having made Jaffier, by the most solemn oaths upon the Koran, renew his obligations of fidelity and allegiance.

The English commander, who had hoped to take possession of that important post, was not a little disconcerted by this movement. The soubahdar had reached Plassy, twelve hours before, at the head of about fifty thousand foot, and eighteen thousand horse. These forces were protected by fifty pieces of cannon, planted in the openings between the columns, into which the Indian army was divided, and partly directed by forty Frenchmen. Clive, however, though surprised at the number, and at the formidable array of the foe, resolved to give battle. He accordingly drew up his little army, consisting of about one thousand Europeans, and two thousand Sepoys, under cover of eight field-pieces. The cannonade was brisk on both sides, from eight o'clock in the morning till noon; when a heavy shower damaged the powder of the enemy, whose fire then began to flag.

Nor was this the only circumstance in favour of the English army. Souraj-ud-Dowlah, who had hitherto remained in his tent beyond the reach of danger, and been flattered every moment with assurances of victory, was now informed that the emir Mourdin, the only general on whose fidelity he could rely, was mortally wounded. Overwhelmed by so weighty a misfortune, he sent for Jaffier; and throwing his turban on the ground, "Jaffier!" exclaimed he, that turban you must defend." The traitor bowed, and, putting his hand to his breast, promised his best services. But no sooner did he join his troops, than he sent a letter to colonel Clive, acquainting him with what had passed, and requesting him either instantly to push on to victory, or to storm the camp during the following night.

The letter, however, was not delivered till the fortune of the day was decided; so that Clive was still in some degree of suspense with respect to the ultimate intentions of Jaffier. Mean