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before they pursued, and rode himself to see the state of the rest of the Jine.
As he was passing on, a shot from one of the guņs with Draper's regiment, truck a tumbril in the retrenched tank on the left of Lally's, where the marines were posted, and the explosion blew up 80 men, many of whom, with the chevalier Poete, were killed dead, and most of the others mortally hurt. All who were near, and had escaped the danger, fled in the first impulse of terror out of the re, trenchment, and ran to gain the camp by the rear of Lally's, and were joined in the way by the 400 Sepoys at the tank behind, who, although they had suffered nothing, likewise abandoned their post. Colonel Coote on the explofion, fent orders by his aid de camp Captain szer, to Major Brereton, to adyance with the whole of Draper's regiment, and take poffeflion of the retrenched tank before the enemy recovered the confusion which he judged the explosion must have caused; as in this situation, they would command, under cover, the fank of Lally's regiment. The ground on which Draper's was standing opposite to Lally's when the order came, obliged them, in order to prevent Lally's from enfilading, or flanking them as coming down, to file off by the right. Mr. Bussy, who commanded on this wing, had before endeavoured to rally the fugitives, of whom he had re, covered 50 or 60, and adding to them two platoons of Lally's, led and posted them in the tank, and then returned to support them with the regiment. But Brereton's files kept wheeling at a distance, and moving at the quickest pace, suffered little from their fire, and coming upon the left of the retrenchment, assaulted it impetuously, and car, ried it after receiving one fire of much execution from the troops within, under which Major Brereton fell mortally wounded, and when fallen refused the assistance of the men next him, but bid them follow their victory. The firft of Draper's who got into the retrench, ment fired down from the parapes upon the guns of the left of Lally's, and drove the gunners from them ; whilft the rest, being many more than required to maintain the post, formed, and shouldered under it, extending on the plain to the left to prevent the regiment of Lally, if attempting to recover the post, from embracing it on this side. Mr. Buffy wheeled the regiment of Lally, and sent off platoons from its left, to regain the retrenchment, whilst the rest were opposed to the division of Draper's on the plain. But the platoons afted faintly, only skirmishing with their fire instead of coming to the close affault. The action likewise continued only with musketry, bur warmly, between the two divisions on the plain, until the two field- pieces, ata tached to the right of Draper's, which they had left behind when marching to attack the retrenchment, were brought to bear on the Hank of Lally's, who had none to oppose them; on which their line began to waver, and many were going off. Mr. Busfy, as the only chance of restoring this part of the battle, put himself at their head, intending to lead them to the push of bayonet, but had only advanced a little way wben his horse was ftruck with a ball in the head, and floundering at every step afterwards, he dismounted; during which the fire from Draper's had continued, of which two or three balls passed through his cloaths, and when he alighted only 20 of Lally's had kept near him, the rest had fhrank. Two placoons set off on E 3
the full run from Draper's to furround them : the officer demanded and received Mr. Busly's sword, and sent him with a guard into the rear; he was conducted to Major Monson, who had wheeled three companies of the grenadiers of the second line, and was halting with them and their field-piece at some distance, ready if necessary to fupport
the event of Draper's. Mr. Buffy aked who the troops he saw were; and was answered 200 grenadiers, the best men in the army, who had not fired a shot; he clasped his hands in surprize and admiration, and said not a word.
During the conflict on this fide the two centers, which were composed of the troops of the two East India Companies, had kept up a hot, but diftant fire; neither chusing to risque closer decision until they saw the event between Draper's and Lally's; but as soon as Lally's broke, the enemy's center went off likewise, but in better order, although in hafte, to regain their camp. Many of Coote's, in the first fury of victory, had pursued their antagonists of Lorrain up to the retrenchment, by which the fugitives entered the camp: they might have suffered by this rashness, if the guard there, as well as the nearest Sepoys along the ridge, had not taken fright, and abandoned their posts on seeing the rout of Lorrain. It took some time to bring the pursųers back to their colours, when the officers, fending off the wounded, formed the rest into their ranks, and afterwards only made the appearance of advancing, whilst the rest of the battle remained in doubt, left Lorrain with the Sepoys should rally ; to prevent which the four field pieces on the left kept up an incessant fire plunging into the camp.
• As soon as the other wing and the center of the enemy's army gave way, their opponents, the Company's battalion and Draper's Tegiment got into order, and with Coote's, who were ready, ad, vanced to the pursuit, leaving their artillery behind. They entered the enemy's camp without meeting the least opposition. India and Lally's had passed through it haftily to the other side, although not in route as Lorrain's before. Mr. Lally, after the rout of Lorrain, rode away to join his own regiment on the left, but on the way saw the explosion of the tombril at the retrenched tank, the dispersion of the marines in this post, and the flight of the Sepoys out of the tank behind. He was in this instant near, and intended to speak to Mr. Buffy, but turned suddenly, and ordered the Sepoys ftationed along the ridge in front of the camp to advanec. None obeyed; and most of them being those of Zulphacarjung who had ferved with Mr. Busly in the Decan, he rafhly suspected treachery, and, unable to controul th: impulse of diftra&ion, rode into the camp to stop the fugitives of Lorrain,
· The whole body of the French cavalry, near 300, who were all Europeans, appeared on the plain in the rear of the camp to which they had retreated, followed by the cavalry of the English army, whose encounter they had hitherto avoided by abler evolutions ; so that neither of these two bodies had been within fight of the brunt between the two infantries. The French cavalry chanced to be near enough to see the night of Lorrain through the camp, and, animated by a fense of national honour, resolved to protect them, if, as might be expected, they should endeavour to escape ftill farther by gaining the plain. In this purpose they united their squadrons and drew up in the rear of the camp, and in face of the English cavalry, of whom the black horse, awed by their resolution, dared not, and the European were too few, to charge them. This unexpected succour probably prevented the utter dispersion of the French army. There were in the rear of the camp three field pieces with their cumbrils of am: munition; at which the fugitives of Lorrain, encouraged by the appearance of the cavalry, stopped, and yoked them. These protections restored confidence to Lally's and the India battalion as they arrived, likewise beaten from the field. They fet fire to the tents and ondangerous ftores near them, and the whole filed off into the plain in much better order than their officers expected. The three field-pieces kept in the rear of the line of infantry, and behind them moved the cavalry. They passed to the westward, and when oppofite to the pertahs of Vandivah were joined by the troops, who had continued at the batteries there, which they abandoned, leaving all the stores and baggage, and received no interruption from the garrison as they were going cff. The Morattoes, who were under the mountain when the cannonade began, intended not only to protect their own camp, but to fall upon the baggage of the English army; but when they saw the whole body of Sepoys remaining in the rear of the action, were deterred from advancing to the village, to which the baggage was sent; and having their own all ready loaded on their bullocks, fent off the whole train to the westward foon after the cannonade commenced ; and with the first notice from their scouts of the rout of Lorrain, began to go off themselves. Their route led them across the way, along which the French'were refreating ; 'whom 700 of them joined and accompanied. Colonel Coote sent repeated orders to his cavalry to harass and impede the retreat of the French line. They followed them five miles until five in the afternoon, but the black horse could not be brought up within reach of the carbines of the French cavalry, and much less of their field-pieces. The brunt of the day passed intirely between the Europeans of both armies, the black troops of neither had any part in it, after the cannonade commenced. The commandan:s of the Englith Sepoys complimenting Colonel Coote on the victory, thanked him for the right of such a battle as they had never seen.
• Twenty-four pieces of cannon were taken, 19 in the field and camp, and 5 in the battery against Van il tombrils of ammunition, all the tents, stores, and baggage, that were not burnt. Two hundred of the Europeans were counted dead in ihe field, and 160 were taken, of whom 30 died of their wounds before the next morning; 6 of the killed, and 20 of the prisoners, were cfficers; wounded continually dropt on the road ; so that the immediate di-. mination of the enemy's force was computed 600 men. Of the English army, 63 Europeans were killed, and 124 wounded, in all 190; of this number, 36 of the killed, and 16 of the wounded, bez longed to the Company's battalions, 17 and 65 to Draper a, 13 and 36 to Coote's regiment; four of the European horse, and two of the artillery, were wounded, but none of cither killed. Of the black troops, 17 of the horse were killed, and 32 wounded: in all, 22 and 47; of the Sepoys only 6 and 15. The killed, as well in the Eu
Jopean as the black troops, was, although not in the different bodies, one half of the number wounded, a proportion on the whole which rarely happens, excepting as in this a£tion, by cannonade.
'The first news of the vidory was brought to Madrass at fun-rise the next morning by one of the black spies of the English camp. At noon came in another, with a note of two lines, written with a pencil, by Colonel Coote on the field of bartle; other accounts followed, and soon after eye-witnesses. The joy which this success diffused throughout the settlement, was almost equal to that of Calcutta on the victory at Plassey. Their congratulations to Colonel Çoote and the army were abundant as their joy.'
The great length of this narrative prevents our making farther extracts from the present volume; we shall therefore only add that, every step we have advanced in the perusal of this history, we have feen fresh grounds for admiring the Author's fidelity and impartiality, as well as his ability in historical writing. We fhall hope in due season to fee the whole plan completed, and a copious index annexed to this and the remaining volumes, fuch as Mr. Orme has given with the second edition of his first vo. lume.
Art. XII. The Fathers; or, The Good-natur d Man. A Comedy,
As it is acted at the Theatre Royal, in Drury-Lane. By the late
· The Comedy now published, was written by the late Henry Fielding some years before his death. The author had Thown it to his friend Mr. Garrick; and entertaining a high esteem for the taste and critical discernment of Sir Charles Williams, the afterwards delivered the manuscript to Sir Charles for his opinion. At that time appointed Envoy Extraordinary to the court of Russia, Sir Charles had not leisure to examine the play before he left England. Whether it has had the honour ko travel with the Envoy into Ruffia, or was left behind, that it might not interfere with the intrigues of the embafly, we cannot determine. Sir Charles died in Russia, and the manu. script was lost.
i As Mr. Fielding had often mentioned this affair, many enquiries were made, after his decease, of several branches of Sir Charles's family, but did not produce any tidings of the Comedy.
• About two years ago 'Thomas Johnes, Esq; member for Cardigan, received from a young friend, as a present, a tatter'd manuscript play, bearing, indeed, fome tokens of antiquity, elfe the present had been of little worth, since the young gentleman assured Mr. Johnes, that it damn'd thing!” Notwithstanding this unpromising character, Mr. Johnes took
the dramatick foundling to his protection with much kindness : read it: determin'd to obtain Mr. Garrick's opinion of it ;, and for that purpose sent it to Mr. Wallis, of Norfolk-ftreet, who waited upon Mr. Garrick with the manuscript, and asked him, if he knew whether the late Sir Charles Williams had ever written a play? -Mr. Garrick cast his eye upon it-“ The lost " theep is found !- This is Harry Fielding's Comedy !" cry'? Mr. Garrick, in a manner that evinced the most friendly regard for the memory of the author.
• This recognition of the play was no sooner communicated to Mr. Johnęs, than he, with the most amiable politeness, iestored his foundling to the family of Mr. Fielding.
Two gentlemen, of the most distinguished dramatic talents of the age, have shewn the kindest attention to the fragment thus recovered. To the very liberal and friendly assistance of Mr. Sheridan, and to the Prologue and Epilogue, written by Mr. Garrick, is to be attributed much of that applause with which the public have received the Fathers; or, The Good Natur'd Man. It is difficult to discover what is meant by the very
liberal and friendly assistance of Mr. Sheridan. If it is intended to imply the heightening touches of that writer's elegant pen, we will yenture to say, that such aslistance has not been very liberal : and indeed, in ftrict justice to the deceased Author, and to the Public, the added and altered passages, if there be any such, fhould have been fairly pointed out to the reader, that he might form a judgment on the original manuscript, and decide whether it had received the last hand of the Author, or was only submitted to his friend, Sir Charles Williams, as the rough outline of a Comedy. Cibber paid this due respect to the remains of Sir John Vanbrugb, and contributed by his fidelity, as well as induttry, to establish the theatrical reputation of the departed writer. Such very liberal and friendly allistance, seems to have been unfortunately with-held on the present occasion. The loose indigested scenes of The Fathers, may be rather said to contain some crude materials towards the erection of a comedy, than the regular fabric. The very dialogue, notwithstanding many masterly strokes, is unfinished, the characters are scarce more than fketches, and the fable is most grossly defective. The original idea of the Good-Natur’d Man and his brother, was palpably suggested by the Micio and Demea of Terence; and indeed some part of the scenes between Boncour and Sir George, is no more than a free translation from that author. Young Boncour is at once a faint and coarse copy of the Latin writer's Æschinus, and the junior part of the family of Valence are detestably original. Valence himself is an excellent drawing, yery much in the best manner of the admirable Fielding; for