From the beginning, there had been little cordiality between the ill-matched allies. In the English camp, Cowan was devoid of military experience or instinct, and commanded little confidence among men habituated to defeat in their attacks on Angrian strongholds; while Matthews, violent and overbearing, claimed a right to direct operations that he knew nothing about. The Portuguese, on their side, proud in the recollection of the great position they had once held on the Malabar coast, and which, though now fast falling into decay, was still immeasurably superior to that of the English merchants, were disgusted at the constant drunkenness, quarrelling, and want of discipline among the English, and incensed at the charge of treachery, for which there was no justification. Feigning illness, the Viceroy betook himself to his ship. Angria saw his opportunity of breaking up the alliance, and opened negotiations with him. On the 17th, the Viceroy wrote to the English, proposing a suspension of arms. With a bad grace they were obliged to consent, seeing in the negotiation, which was against the compact that neither should treat separately, farther confirmation of their suspicion of treachery. Angria granted the Portuguese full reparation for injuries, and formed an offensive and defensive alliance with them. The English were left to shift for themselves. Full of wrath, they embarked at once, and sailed for Bombay on the 28th.
While the force was engaged at Colaba, the Malwans[2] strove to make a diversion in Angria's favour by attacking English ships, under pretence that they were Portuguese vessels; they being at war with Goa at the time. The Sunda Rajah also attacked a private English ship, but was beaten off. In the Gulf, the Bombay sloop Prince took a Muscat ship of fourteen guns, but after some days was obliged to relinquish its prize to a Muscat squadron.
It is impossible not to sympathize with Boone's disappointment at the failure of this long-planned expedition, which he had looked forward to as the crowning achievement of his presidentship. The time had come for him to return to England. His successor, Mr. William. Phipps, had arrived from Mocha, in August, and had taken the second seat in Council, while awaiting Boone's departure. Boone's last year in Bombay was embittered by a dangerous intrigue against him, headed by Parker and Braddyll, two of the Council. Investigation showed that they had plotted to seize his person, and had even uttered threats against his life. Being arrested and ordered to leave Bombay, they fled to Goa. After a time, Braddyll made his way in a small boat to Bombay, and sought protection on board the Lyon, which was readily extended to him by Matthews. As Braddyll's name appears among those present in Council in Bombay, in 1723, he must have succeeded in making his peace with the Company. Under the Company's rule, in those days, all but the worst offences were condoned, so long as they were not directly aimed at the Company's trade. A plot against the Governor's freedom might be pardoned, but, for assistance given to the Ostenders there was no locus poenitentiae.
On the 9th January, Boone embarked on board the London, after making over the governorship to Mr. Phipps, followed by the good wishes of the community. During his six years of office he had proved himself a faithful and zealous servant of the Company: 'a gentleman of as much honour and good sense as any that ever sat in that chair,' according to Hamilton. He had found Bombay with a languishing trade and open to attack. Under his fostering care, trade had improved, so that merchants from Bengal and Madras had found it profitable to settle there. A good wall had been built to guard the town against sudden raids, and a respectable naval force had been created to keep piracy in check. He deserves remembrance as the first Bombay Governor who tried to put down the coast pirates by active measures. Though his expeditions against them had been uniformly unsuccessful, he had taught Angria that the Company's trade could not be attacked with impunity, and his ill-success was entirely due to the worthlessness of his instruments. At his departure, salutes were fired from every gun ashore and afloat, except from Matthews' squadron, which did not fire a gun. As he sailed down the coast, accompanied by the Victoria and Revenge, loaded with stores for Carwar and Anjengo, he was attacked by Angria's squadron, but beat them off. Off Anjediva he came on the Kempsant's grabs plundering a ship, which he rescued. One of the grabs was taken and another driven ashore; and so he was gratified with a small success over his inveterate enemies, as he bid farewell to the Indian coast.
As soon as Matthews had returned to Bombay, after the Alibagh fiasco, he applied himself to what, to him, was the principal reason for his coming to India, viz. private trade. For the Company's interests he did not care a button; in fact, anything that injured the Company found an advocate in him. As for the pirates, if they did not come in his way, he was not going to trouble himself much about them. To enrich himself by starting a private trade of his own, was his one object, and, with this end in view, he sailed for Surat. With him he took Mrs. Braddyll and Mrs. Wyche, with sundry chests of treasure, in spite of Phipps' remonstrances: the estates of both having been attached by the Council. In Surat he tried to raise a large sum for a venture in the China trade; but the arbitrary conduct of the King's officers had raised so much distrust among the native merchants, that he was unsuccessful. Within three weeks he was back again in Bombay, and was at once involved in an angry correspondence with the Council. Not confining himself to an acrimonious exchange of letters, he affixed at the sea gate an insulting proclamation. Phipps ordered it to be removed, on which Matthews wrote that, if it were not at once replaced, he would publish it by beat of drum through Bombay, and, should any resistance be offered, he would not leave a house standing in the place. In this dilemma the Council consented to replace it, but, to save their dignity, added a notice that it was licensed by the Secretary. It is difficult to see how this improved the matter. However, Matthews sailed the next day for Madagascar, so no doubt the proclamation did not long remain after his departure.
His absence from Bombay, though doubtless felt as a relief by Phipps and the Council, was probably, before long, a cause of regret in the troubles that shortly beset them: but for the moment we will follow his movements. Not contented with his quarrels with the Council, Matthews was soon at daggers drawn with his own captains. First he proposed to them to employ their ships in trading, on condition that two-thirds of the profits were to be his. The captains refused to have anything to do with the proposal. He had already had a quarrel with Cockburn, his second in command, the first of many that were to follow. Before leaving Bombay, a quarrel arose between him and Sir Robert Johnson, of the Exeter. Johnson threw up his command, and took passage for England in one of the Company's ships, which was lost with all hands on the voyage. With Sir Robert Johnson, his son, a lieutenant in the navy, perished. Brathwaite was appointed to the command of the Exeter. It had already come to be widely known that anybody who was in trouble with the Company would find countenance and protection from Matthews. He told the Portuguese officials that the Company's vessels were only traders, and therefore not entitled to a salute, gun for gun. This matter of salutes was a very important one in Matthews' eyes. Every trading ship, however small it might be, carried guns, and there was a great deal of saluting. In acknowledging such salutes Matthews always responded with three or four less guns than were given him. On one occasion there is a record of his replying with one gun only.[3] Wherever Matthews could find an opportunity for lowering the credit or hurting the interests of the Company, he seized it.
On reaching Carpenter's Bay in Mauritius, he found an impudent message from the pirates, 'writ on Captain Carpenter's tomb with a piece of charcoal,' to the effect that they had been expecting him and had gone to Port Dauphin. The squadron next proceeded to Bourbon, where they sold some casks of arrack and madeira to the French for a very good profit, and thence proceeded to Charnock Point, St. Mary's Island, Madagascar. Here they found the wrecks of several merchant ships that had been run ashore by the pirates. Scattered on the beach were lying their cargoes, china ware, rich drugs and spices, cloth, guns, and other articles, lying where the pirates had cast them. Men waded knee-deep in pepper, cloves, and cinnamon, such was the quantity. In shallow water were lying the remains of a fine Jeddah ship that had been taken, with thirteen lakhs of treasure on board, by a pirate named Conden, who commanded a ship called the Flying Dragon. Matthews at once began to transfer the guns and such commodities as were least damaged to his own ships. A flag of truce had been first sent ashore to communicate with England and the other pirates, but it was found that they had fled inland. A week later, a white man, accompanied by a well-armed guard of natives, made his appearance. He told them that he was a Jamaica man named John Plantain, that he had been a pirate, but was tired of the trade, and had settled down on the spot. This John Plantain was a man of some note in the piratical world. Every and England had sailed with him, and treated him with much consideration and some fear. He had made himself master of a considerable tract of country, so that the pirates had given him the name of the King of Ranter Bay.[4] He gave an invitation to Matthews to visit his castle, where he entertained some of the officers of the squadron. Matthews' first idea was to seize him, but finding that John Plantain had a good number of armed natives with him, besides a Scotchman and a Dane, and that his castle had plenty of guns mounted, he decided to trade with him instead. The pirates made no secret of having taken part in the capture of the Goa Viceroy's ship, and of a rich native vessel with eighteen lakhs of rupees on board. So hats, shoes, stockings, wine, and arrack were made over to John Plantain, for which he paid a good price in gold and diamonds. In spite of his notions as to piracy, John Plantain showed himself an honester man than Matthews. Having paid liberally for the things he had bought, he left the hogsheads of wine and arrack on the beach under a small guard. As soon as his back was turned, Matthews manned his boats, brought off all the liquor he had been paid for, and some of the native guard as well. After which notable achievement he sailed away for Bengal, consoling himself with the thought that he was not like one of "those vile pirates, who, after committing many evil actions, had settled down among a parcel of heathens to indulge themselves in all sorts of vice."[5]
After a fortnight at Charnock's Point, the squadron made its way round the north of Madagascar to Manigaro (Manankara) Bay, whence they steered for Johanna. As the Directors afterwards remarked, Matthews ought to have divided his squadron, and searched both coasts of the great island; but his heart was not in the quest for pirates; he was bent only on trade. Sending the Salisbury and Exeter to cruise towards Socotra, he took the Lyon and Shoreham to Bengal, and, in the beginning of August, he was at anchor in the Hoogly, near Diamond Harbour. There he remained till the end of October. There were no pirates in the Bay of Bengal, but the sugar trade was very lucrative, and he wanted to invest in it.
He was not long in Calcutta without coming to loggerheads with the Council concerning Mrs. Gyfford, who, as Mrs. Chown, has already been mentioned in these pages,[6] and whose third husband had perished in the Anjengo massacre eighteen months before. In flying from Anjengo she had carried off the factory books, together with all the money she could lay her hands on. As the Company had large claims on Gyfford's estate, the Council was bent on making her disgorge. Matthews espoused her quarrel, as he did that of all who were in the Company's bad books, and, in defiance of the Council, carried her off to Bombay, and eventually to England.
[1] 'Thrust his cane in his mouth.'—Downing.