ith such violence as to resemble a fabric of red-hot iron in a
smithy.

Early next morning, Watson sent in a flag of truce again, but surrender
was still refused, so the line-of-battle ships were warped in and
recommenced firing; while Clive, who had approached the fort, battered it
from the land side. At four in the afternoon a magazine in the fort blew
up, and a white flag was hoisted. An officer was sent on shore, but the
Governor still attempted to evade surrender. He consented to admit five or
six men into the fort to hoist English colours, but would not definitely
surrender possession till next day. So fire was reopened, and in twenty
minutes more the Angrian flag was hauled down for the last time, and the
last shred of Angrian independence had ceased to exist.

Sixty men, under Captains Forbes and Buchanan, were marched up to hold the
gate for the night. A body of the Peishwa's troops tried to gain admission,
and offered the officers a bill on Bombay for a lakh of rupees to allow
them to pass in. The offer was rejected, but the Peishwa's officer still
continued to press in, till Forbes faced his men about, and, drawing his
sword, swore he would cut him down if he persisted.

The following morning, the fort was taken possession of by Clive. The
success had been gained at the cost of about twenty men killed and wounded.

Ramajee Punt at once made a formal demand for the fort to be given up to
him. Watson, in return, demanded that Toolajee should be made over into
English custody. Meanwhile, a hunt for the treasure secreted in different
places went on. "Every day hitherto has been productive of some new
discoveries of treasure, plate, and jewels, etc.," wrote Hough three days
later. Altogether about one hundred and thirty thousand pounds' worth of
gold, silver, and jewels were secured, and divided between the land and
sea forces. True to his promise, Watson sent Clive a thousand pounds to
make his share equal to Pocock's. Clive sent it back again. He was
satisfied with the acknowledgment of his claim, but would not take what
came out of Watson's private purse. "Thus did these two gallant officers
endeavour to outvie each other in mutual proofs of disinterestedness and
generosity," wrote Ives in his narrative. A thousand pounds was a larger
sum then than it would be now, and Clive was a poor man at the time, but
he was never greedy of money. The incident justifies his boast, long
afterwards, of his moderation when