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]