However, it would be a mistake to think that an officer – and a good officer, at that – was created solely by his experiences on board ship. Naval officers were men who were still very much part of their society, and Graham Moore’s journal makes it clear just how important it was for them to have a social existence.
Graham Moore hurriedly returned from France towards the end of 1784. The Moore family were acquainted with Lord Arden, and just a few months earlier Arden, as part of Pitt’s new administration, had been appointed to the Board of Admiralty. It can have been no coincidence that shortly after his return, Moore met Lord Arden and then received orders to join the 20-gun HMS
Perseus
only days later. The
Perseus
was smaller than a frigate, but commanded by a Post Captain, in this case Captain George Palmer, who was in his mid-twenties and had commissioned the ship two years earlier. The
Perseus
was bound for an anti-smuggling patrol off the north-west coast of England, and in this activity Moore was unknowingly joining a number of the navy’s best future frigate commanders.
10
With little regard for comfort, the
Perseus
sailed from Plymouth on 27 December bound for Dublin. The ship called briefly at Cork where Moore chose to remain on board while the other officers went ashore, because
‘I was rather short of cash, and of course could not have much amusement’
. Days later, on the way to Dublin, being the only Lieutenant on board, Moore found himself responsible for the safety of the ship. Coming on deck one night he found the ship’s binnacle poorly lit. Asking the reason, he was told that the ship’s Purser had refused to issue all the necessary candles on the basis that this was wasteful. Moore was furious and confronted the Purser in the Gun Room. The Purser, who may have been drunk, refused to obey Moore’s order to issue the candles and the Captain had to be summoned. Palmer promptly confined the Purser to his quarters until he came to his senses.
The depth of Moore’s responsibility was brought home to him again shortly after. On the night of 30 January 1785, the
Perseus
sailed into Dublin Bay in a gale, and anchored. As the crew was tired from fighting the winds
, ‘All the ship’s company were allowed to turn into their hammocks excepting me and the midshipmen of the first watch’
. A lonely and troubled vigil ensued from 8pm until midnight, by which time the gale was increasing strongly and a worried Moore had the crew woken. Captain Palmer arrived on the quarter deck to survey the situation but, after a few moments, he decided that it was safe to allow the ship to ride at her anchors until daylight and the people were allowed to return to their hammocks. Thankfully, Moore was also able to turn in to his own small cabin.
‘I lay down on my bed with my wet clothes on, I was afraid to undress as I expected to be called very soon, however I was not disturbed ‘til 8 in the morning, when with some difficulty we hove our anchor up and ran into the Bay’
.
Moore was not impressed by his first experience of Palmer’s encounter with smugglers. On 15 February, the
Perseus
surprised a suspicious-looking cutter that fled at their approach. The alarm on board the cutter clearly indicated a state of guilty panic and Palmer gave chase, ordering one of the ship’s nine-pounder guns manhandled onto the foredeck as a bow chaser. However, to Moore’s growing frustration, Palmer then decided to bring the ship’s broadside guns to bear instead; and every time the
Perseus
yawed to bring the guns to bear, the cutter sailed further away. After a great many shot had been wasted, the cutter disappeared into the growing darkness and Palmer abandoned the chase. It was not a good start and Moore’s relationship with his commanding officer was soon to deteriorate.
Without the urgency that was generated by wartime duties, the ships on anti-smuggling patrol were able to adopt a surprisingly leisurely routine with regular stops at local ports. Palmer was clearly not averse to this, and the
Perseus
spent many weeks at Liverpool where the officers indulged in the various pleasures that the city’s society could offer. Often these involved all-night ‘Balls and Assemblies’. Entering an Assembly one evening, Moore found an unknown naval captain standing just inside the door. The officer was introduced as Captain Isaac Coffin
... who on seeing me, very politely offered to procure me a partner, which he did. After the first country dance Coffin and I had some conversation together, I found he had known my eldest brother John very intimately in America, on which account he showed me marks of friendship which without that circumstance I could have had no pretensions to.
The twenty-five-year-old Coffin was an interesting and controversial character. Promoted two years earlier he had fallen foul of Admiral Rodney by refusing to accept three of the Admiral’s protégés on board his ship. The midshipmen concerned were mere boys, and Coffin refused to accept them as his lieutenants because of their lack of experience. A furious Rodney had Coffin court-martialled for disobedience and contempt – but the trial backfired on Rodney who was found guilty of making appointments which were ‘irregular and contrary to the established rules of the service’.
11
Now, although Coffin was on the beach, he was highly regarded and welcomed in society and through Coffin, Moore was introduced to William Boates,
... a very capital merchant in Liverpool, who has three very amiable daughters, one of them is esteemed a great beauty. That is the house where I am on the most agreeable footing.
Ironically, Boates had made his money from the slave trade, to which Moore was opposed. It may be for this reason that the source of Boates’ wealth is not mentioned in the journal. Moore also had a brief flirtation with
Miss ‘F__y Pet__rs, a great toast in Liverpool’
. After spending several days in her company,
I was really a little smitten with her, she is very handsome, seems to have had a pretty good education; and I think she has a tolerable share of understanding.
Perhaps Moore was becoming just a little too intimate. The lauded Miss Pet__rs was suddenly whisked away to the country. He returned to console himself with the charms of the beautiful Ellen Boates, and engaged himself to accompany her to a ball in honour of the King’s birthday, though he feared that the
Perseus
might be back at sea by then,
... and of course I shall be then dancing with Davy Jones, to whom, notwithstanding my profound respect, I freely own I would prefer the lady.
Moore’s success in Liverpool society was, however, not going down well with his commanding officer and he became aware of a certain dryness in Palmer’s behaviour:
he rather treated me with a distance and hauteur ... he agrees very well with me when we are abroad, but could easily dispense with my company ashore.
Once they were back at sea, however, this tension eased for a time. Palmer was almost certainly jealous, and perhaps he had reason to be. Arriving at Belfast in June 1785, Moore was sent on board Commodore Gower’s ship, the frigate
Hebe
, to collect Palmer’s orders. On board the
Hebe
, Gower recognized him as a friend of Lord Arden’s and he was immediately invited to return for dinner that night with Captain Palmer. That evening, as they climbed the side rope of the
Hebe
, Moore
was received at the Gangway by one of the lieutenants, who entered into conversation with me in an easy stile; I had a suspicion who it was but as I had never before seen him I spoke to him and addressed him in the same manner I would any other lieutenant.
Later that evening, his suspicion was confirmed. The Lieutenant was Prince William, later to become King William IV. After dinner, the Prince invited Moore to the Gun Room for a more informal session drinking grog, where the Prince
... was very at ease and familiar with all officers, calling for songs and joining in the chorus.
This was not to be the first evening that Moore ended carousing with the Prince!
In December 1785, the
Perseus
returned to Plymouth for a refit. The passage was rough and Moore experienced most of it from his small cabin, to which he had, reluctantly, been confined by the ship’s surgeon because of a severe cold. They arrived at Plymouth to find a court martial in progress on the boatswain of the
Fortune
who had been formally charged with striking both the ship’s Lieutenant and surgeon. A sentence of death was passed on the man, and Moore was ordered to attend the execution with seamen from the
Perseus
. When the signal gun was fired to assemble the witnesses, Moore
... took the Pinnace and went along side of the
Standard
[64] which ship being the most in the centre of the fleet was appointed for the execution ... I put some of our people on board the
Standard
to assist at the execution according to the practice in such cases
12
, and then joined the other boats of the fleet who lay upon their oars until near 12 o clock when we saw the prisoner taken on the Fore Castle where he after pulling his coat off and praying some time on his knees, had the rope put about his neck, and a gun being fired under him, he was run up the starboard Fore yard arm, I believe the pain he suffered was of very short duration, as [he] went off with such a swing as must have immediately broke his neck.
Several days later, the
Perseus
was hauled into dock and when Palmer went on leave, Moore decided to ride over to Tavistock to visit the family of an old shipmate, William Bedford. Moore had stayed with the Bedfords several times before and knew he would be welcomed. He had intended to spend only one night away from the ship, but the following day dawned with black skies and heavy rain and he was easily persuaded to extend his visit. However, the decision troubled him:
I was wrong in this as the ship was fitting for sea and it was really improper for the lieutenant to be from the ship, but as I knew that the duty would go on equally as well under the eye of the Master, I remained at Tavistock. Next morning with a heavy heart I left my friends with whom I had been very happy and made sail for Dock with the poems of my favourite Gray
13
in my pocket.
On his return, he learned that Palmer had visited the ship in his absence and although the Captain had apparently expressed his displeasure at Moore’s absence, nothing more was said on the matter
.
Shortly after Christmas, Moore was intrigued to see the
Hebe’
s barge rowed into Plymouth, flying Prince William’s standard. On the following day Moore was strolling down a street in Dock
14
when he encountered the Prince walking in the opposite direction in the company of an officer of the 7th Regiment;
As ... I did not expect that the Prince would recollect me I did not stop, but he did and cried out – by God that’s Moore – I then turned about and pulled my hat off on which he left the Gentleman he was walking with and running towards me took me by the hand which he shook heartily and after talking some time I took my leave a good deal surprised at his affability and condescension.
The following night Moore encountered the Prince once again at a very crowded assembly where the dancing continued enthusiastically until 2am. At the end of the night the Prince invited Moore and a number of officers to take supper with him;
We were very merry, the Prince seems to have a strong taste for what is called blackguarding and enjoyed some smutty jokes and loose songs which were sung with peculiar humour by an Irish officer of Artillery, he sung some songs himself but that was only I believe to encourage the company to throw off all stiffness and formality and not to charm us with his voice as singing is not his
fort
.
(The party continued until 7am, when the company broke up.)
Acquaintance with the Prince could not, however, provide Moore with any protection from his Captain’s irritation. At the end of January 1786, the
Perseus
sailed again for the north-west coast and during the passage an ugly incident occurred which deeply affected Moore. One evening, the Gun Room officers were hurriedly summoned on deck to find an absolutely livid Captain Palmer waiting for them. The cause of his fury was, apparently, the funnel of the Gun Room chimney which, he claimed, was red hot and emitting clouds of highly dangerous sparks. Palmer immediately summoned all hands on deck and had the two Gun Room servants flogged with a dozen lashes each. Moore considered this grossly unfair, for it was the Quartermaster’s responsibility to sweep the chimney on a regular basis. However, as Palmer had ordered the punishment in front of the whole crew, Moore knew that he could not question the Captain’s authority. Neverthless, he admitted, his inability to speak up on behalf of the men
‘has given me a great deal of pain’
. The incident also provided Moore with a valuable lesson. A commander, he realized, should never order a punishment in haste.
The incident put him in a sombre mood. He transcribed the whole of Thomas Gray’s
Elegy on a Country Churchyard
into the journal, and then added:
‘There is a tide in the affairs of men;
Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune,
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows, and in Miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.’