This campaign has certain features of interest. Though Pocock’s arms were tied by the Fighting Instructions, he showed a vigour in attack and a persistency of effort which promised final victory over his timid opponent. But the working of those instructions is full of warning. It has been ingeniously argued by the late Admiral Colomb that the presence of an effective naval force, for which he invented—or to which he adapted—the name of “Fleet in Being,” on a given coast will of itself so act as to stop all operations against that coast on the part of an enemy. Yet in this case, though the British squadron was at least a full match for the French, and Pocock’s will to strike was of the best, we see that he failed both to prevent D’Aché from landing soldiers at Pondicherry and from co-operating in the taking of Cuddalore. He failed partly because of the timidity of the Council which called him back to Madras, but mainly because he was tied by formal rules of battle which did not allow him to develop freely the whole strength of his command. Had he been free to take his fleet always where he thought best, and to use it unbound by foolish laws, had he been one of those great and original captains who have the moral and intellectual courage to break away from worn-out traditions, there can be no doubt that his campaign of 1758 on the coast of Coromandel would have been marked by a decisive battle. It might well have been far more costly than the two engagements actually fought, but we may assert, without undue patriotic confidence in our own navy, that it would have broken the French naval forces in those seas to pieces. As it was, the balance of advantage was rather with the French than with us. The moral of the story is surely, that it is not enough for a fleet to be “in being” if it is not also in action, and that there is but little use in action which is not allowed to drive its blows home to the heart.

The operations of 1759 bear some likeness to those of the previous year, but with a marked difference. Our squadron well supplied, strictly disciplined, grew in strength, efficiency, and confidence. D’Aché was joined at the Île de France by ships of the navy from Europe commanded by Froger de l’Eguille, who had taken part in the action with Byng. But his very numbers were an embarrassment to him. The French islands were too poor to feed the crews of the squadron. They were only kept from starvation by sending some of the ships to buy food at a great cost from the Dutch at the Cape of Good Hope, and others to live from hand to mouth on the coast of Madagascar. Stores were almost wholly wanting, and the work of refitting the vessels was either not done at all, or was done by sacrificing one necessary to serve as makeshift for another. It is therefore not surprising that whereas Pocock was back from the Malabar coast and was cruising in the Bay of Bengal in April, D’Aché was unable to leave the islands till the middle of July. He was near Batacaloa on the east coast of Ceylon at the end of August. He had eleven ships to Pocock’s eight, but many were weak, all were badly fitted, and there was little heart or confidence in officers or men. To a large extent his crews were natives. The utmost he felt able to do was to carry some reinforcements to Pondicherry, and his ambition did not reach beyond effecting this service without being brought to battle if he could. When then he was sighted by Pocock on the coast of Ceylon, he applied himself to slipping away and succeeded. The British admiral, having lost sight of him, hastened to cut his road at Pondicherry, and another scene of cannonading, of damaged rigging for us, and of final escape for the French, took place on the 10th September. D’Aché reached Pondicherry while our ropes and spars were being repaired at Negapatam. During the rest of the month the British admiral made successive attempts to provoke his opponent to battle. The furious Lally, whose one idea of government was to lay about him with a flail, strove hard to get service out of his naval colleague. But D’Aché, who was deep in the ruinous intrigues of the French settlement, would do nothing. He would not even stay on the coast though prayed to do so by his countrymen. His officers were as eager to be gone as himself. At the end of September he sailed for the islands, and the French flag disappeared from those seas. When his opponent was gone Pocock went round to Bombay. From thence he sailed for home with a great convoy, and arrived on the 22nd September. The naval war was at an end in the East Indies by the utter collapse of the French. Their possessions being cut off from help, fell before the superior forces of the English company.

A Short History of the Royal Navy 1217-1815 — Part 142