Frigate Commander (24 page)

8. Warren’s action off Ireland. This convincing contemporary sketch of Warren’s frigates engaging Bompart’s fleet off Ireland, by Nicholas Pocock, reflects the artist’s concern for accuracy.

(National Maritime Museum, Greenwich)

9. This chart of Brest Harbour, from the Naval Chronicle, would have been highly familiar to all the commanders of British frigates blockading the French coast.

10. Every frigate captain’s dream - Moore’s encounter with the Spanish treasure convoy in 1804. This aquatint was produced by Thomas Whitcombe and Daniel Havell.

(National Maritime Museum, Greenwich)

11. The Mercedez explodes. An aquatint after a painting by Sir John Gore.

(National Maritime Museum, Greenwich)

12. Brooke Farm, Cobham, Surrey, painted by J Hassell in 1822, when Graham Moore

owned the property.

(The British Library)

13. Graham Moore’s grave in the mediæval churchyard, Cobham, Surrey.

(Author’s own collection)

9

Love and Mutiny (March 1797 – May 1798 )

On 3 March 1797, the
Melampus
anchored at Spithead. Four days later, Moore took the frigate into harbour and was informed that a dock would not be available for at least a week. With little apparent hesitation he arranged a week’s leave and travelled to London. For some time his vague relationship with the young Miss M had been on his mind, and he now decided to try to strengthen any bonds that existed between them. Although he had previously kept his distance, he decided it was time to put himself forward. In London, he called at the M family house;

She received me in a manner which convinced me of her warmest friendship, which altho’ it is far short of the sentiment I wish her to have for me yet is as much as she ought to have for a man who never made love to her. She appeared more lovely and amiable in my eyes than ever and I feel that I shall never be happy until I have declared my love for her, and put it out of doubt whether or not she loves me. She appears to me to love me like a brother, and I am greatly pleased and flattered by the manner in which she behaves to me. She is the only woman of the number I have been in love with that ever I wished to marry, and I do think her from long acquaintance the most perfect female character I ever knew. I am inclined to think that she rather loves me, and I shall be very miserable if I find myself mistaken.

The signs of affection were as yet slim, but Moore was optimistic, perhaps over-optimistic under the circumstances, but at least it was a start. At Portsmouth there was another delay in getting a dock ready for the
Melampus
, so Moore stayed in London. London society was buzzing with talk of Admiral Jervis’ victory over the Spanish fleet at the Battle of St Vincent.
⁵⁴
Moore considered it

. . . a most brilliant achievement . . . although it certainly was by no means a hard fight . . . The conduct of Commodore Nelson in the
Captain
and of Captain Trowbridge was above all praise. From what I have heard of Trowbridge, I think he must be one of the most energetic, and gallant officers in our Navy, as also one of our best practical seamen. Two days before the action the
Colossus
, one of our 74’s, ran foul of the
Culloden [also a 74]
(Trowbridge’s Ship) and damaged her so much that it was thought impossible for her to keep the sea, however, by the great activity and resources of Trowbridge he not only did not go into port but continued to be in such a situation on the morning that the Spanish fleet appeared that he was enabled to take the Post of honour and peril, and to lead the English Line into action . . . I am credibly informed that the Chain Pumps were at work the whole time of the action, and that sometimes the leaks occasioned by the above mentioned accident gained on the pumps.

Once again we perceive a ship commander’s appreciation of the battle, in that what he esteems is the ability with which Trowbridge managed his damaged ship in order to have it ready for combat.

In London, Moore visited the painter Fuseli, spending three hours in conversation with him, finding his conversation

. . . full of grandeur and sublimity. With regard to his works they interest me infinitely more than those of any other painter that ever I have seen, except the most admirable drawings and unfinished paintings of my friend William Lock who unites expression with divine beauty . . .

Moore had delayed his return to Portsmouth and, knowing that the
Melampus
was due to be docked on the 19th, he hurried there on the following evening to inspect the damage to the frigate’s hull. Standing in the dry dock, he was able to see for himself that almost all of the
Melampus
’ false keel had been ripped away, and that there was considerable damage to the main keel. Despondently, he realized that the repairs were going to take weeks. This was bad news, for any extended stay in port was bad for the health, morale and efficiency of a ship’s crew. He would have been more depressed, had he not had something more powerful on his mind. Within three days he was back at the M family house – the place which he dazedly described as the place where his
‘goddess reigns’
. He was aware of his own condition, but despair over his financial position now dragged him down into a turmoil of confusion:

I am now over head and ears in love, yet refrained from declaring myself . . . chiefly by the consciousness of my being in no condition to support her in the event of her consenting to share her fate with mine. I am in a painful state of suspense with regard to the state of her heart; she may like me, but I am sure she is not dying for any man. If I could be sure that she loves me I could go to sea with satisfaction and with increased ardour, founded on the hope of removing the only bar to the completion of my wishes by captures from the Enemy; but if I were sure that she were indifferent about me, I would be extremely indifferent about riches. I did not tell her how dear she is to me. Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, but I think she must see it, and I do not think any of the family can be ignorant of it.

Despite the longings of his heart, there was another mistress calling him;

I wish to the Lord my
Melampus
were fairly afloat again; I am losing time, yet I do not grudge the time I have spent near the Lady . . .

The news that the
Melampus
was ready for sea arrived at almost the same time as news from the West Indies, where John Moore had recovered from fever and had been offered the position as Governor of Jamaica.
⁵⁵
Perhaps inspired by the news of his brother, Graham’s thoughts returned suddenly to his naval duties. He resolved to return to Portsmouth, and devote himself properly to his profession, and to his crew;

I have not been active enough in putting in practice my own ideas respecting Naval Discipline; when we go out again I shall endeavour to think of nothing else.

Perhaps thinking that a change of station would shake him from his current state of mind, Moore made another half-hearted effort to get the
Melampus
transferred to another station. The Admiralty refused and he stoically accepted the fact that he would probably be watching the north coast of France until the end of the war.

On 13 April, the
Melampus
was hauled out of dock and alongside a jetty. She was mastless and was not ready to receive stores. A huge effort was now going to be required to get her ready for sea. To make matters worse, predictably, twelve of the crew had gone missing and it could only be presumed that they had deserted. Then two days later, the crews of the ships at Spithead mutinied. Moore noted in his journal that it began with the crew of the
Queen Charlotte
(100) giving three cheers,
‘. . . which was the signal for a mutiny throughout the fleet’.
In an incredibly revealing comment, he noted that the cause of the mutiny was found to have originated some time back with a petition to Lord Howe for an increase in pay. It was passed to the Board but
‘. . . they did not think fit to take
any notice of it’
[Moore’s crossing out]. There can be little doubt that Moore watched the events unfolding at Portsmouth with some sympathy and, one detects, even a hint of admiration: