cause but the right one. He would show himself, he said, how these Europeans should be met. He had heard, the very day of the defeat of his cavalry, that a small force, composed of 230 Frenchmen and 700 trained sipáhís, was approaching Madras from Pondichery, and would attempt to cross the little river Adyár, near St Thomé, on the 4th (November). Máphuz Khán had at his disposal 10,000 men. He took at once a resolution worthy of a great commander. He marched with his whole army to St Thomé, occupied a position on the northern bank of the Adyár, so strong and so commanding that he could not fail, if the combatants were at all equal in military qualities, to crush the little force marching on Madras.
Máphuz Khán was on the chosen spot, eager for combat, when the small French force appeared in sight. Paradis, who commanded it, was an engineer, a man who knew not fear, and who was not easily moved from his purpose. He saw the serried masses in front of him, barring his way. To attack them he must wade through the river, exposed to their fire. Had he hesitated an instant the story of the Europeans in India might have been different. But Paradis recognised, as many English commanders after him have recognised, that the one way for the European to pursue when combating Asiatics is to go forward. He did not hesitate a moment. Without waiting even to reconnoitre, he dashed into the river, scrambled up the bank, formed on it in line, delivered a volley, and charged. The effect was momentous. Never was there fought a more decisive battle, a battle more pregnant with consequences. The army of the Nuwáb was completely defeated. Vigorously pursued, it vanished, never again to appear in line against a European enemy, unless supported by the presence of that enemy's European rival.
