According to Hamilton, 'he pulled off his red coat and vanished.' The Rajah's horsemen charged down, sword in hand, on the disordered ranks; the men threw down their arms and fled to the boats, leaving some two hundred and fifty of their number dead on the field.

Fortunately, the floating batteries covered the embarkation, and prevented the enemy, who had suffered some loss, from gathering the spoils of the fallen.

Eighty seamen were sent on shore, and brought back about two hundred muskets that had been thrown away in flight, most of them loaded.

Thus ingloriously ended the attempts at landing.
The factory was by this time reduced to great straits for food, and this fresh disaster made peace imperative; the Rajah, in spite of his success so far, was anxious to come to an accommodation.

The expense of maintaining so many armed men threatened to ruin him; the sea blockade and the detention of the horses were events on which he had not reckoned: and, worse still, his northern borders were harried by the Sow Bajah, 'which made him incline very much towards a peace:' so an agreement was quickly arrived at, and, on the 29th November, peace was proclaimed on easy terms for both parties.