Frigate Commander (41 page)

As the rest of the crew had gone, the Spanish Captain rather nobly acceded to Moore’s suggestion that he might consider releasing the Lieutenant and Midshipman. Understandably, Moore was very impressed by this honourable gesture, and the two erstwhile enemy commanders parted amidst a shower of mutual compliments.

The incident, however, provided a lighter moment of relief to Moore. The problem with his eye seemed to be no worse, but he was in increasing pain from rheumatism which had spread around his shoulders and into his breast:
‘It will be a most painful thing to me to be obliged to give up the
Melampus,
but I much fear this Rheumatism will force me to change the climate before I am too much reduced
.’ His depression was not helped by an apparent lack of enemy shipping on the cruising ground:

We begin to despond but certainly without reason. Whenever we take a prize it gives a fill up to all on board and they expect to take another every day. The only circumstance which really annoys me is my eternal Rheumatism, yet when I was in perfect health I always provided myself with some other paramount grievance. I have been reading the
Mysteries of Udolpho
¹¹⁷
, certainly an excellent novel, the work of a woman of genius, the great fault is, in my opinion, that she repeats the picturesque descriptions of Nature until she fairly satiates the reader with what at first delighted and would continue to delight him, if served out in moderation.... She often drew delicious tears from my eyes. But there is too much Mystery.

Despite the sublime delights of
Udolpho
, Moore’s overall gloom was increasing. Three weeks passed and the only enemy vessel sighted was a small schooner, which escaped. Moore began to feel like simply giving up:

I have been strongly tempted to make the best of my way to Port Royal and there give up the ship and return to England for the benefit of my health, but I still try to hold out.

Officers and crew were somewhat cheered on 15 July when they stopped a brig from Liverpool which handed over newspapers carrying reports that Lord Nelson had attacked the Danish Fleet in Copenhagen roads,

. . . and after a very severe fight, had taken every ship that was there, amounting to upwards of 20 vessels or war including several ships of the line and a great many Frigates.

Also

That the Emperor Paul had died of an apoplexy and has been succeeded by his son . . . that an ambassador was gone from England to Petersburgh to endeavour to conciliate the new Emperor and conclude a peace. That Sir Ralph Abercrombie had landed at Aboukir beaten the French and taken Alexandria.

Moore surveyed these developments with near astonishment, adding,

If all this is true I think the Northern confederacy must be broken up, and that a general peace will be the result.

The day after receiving this news, the
Melampus
gave chase to a schooner that took shelter in shallow water near Point Delgada. Moore sent in the ship’s boats to cut her out, but before they could do so, she bilged. Denied of even this prize, Moore came to a decision. This would have to be his last cruise in the West Indies;

It is a painful prospect for me that of being forced to give up the
Melampus
in this country, we have been on the whole so healthy that, with the very little pressing that we have had, the ship is I think better manned than she has ever been since I have commanded her which is now five years. I think no enemy’s frigate could stand us an hour’s close action barring extraordinary accidents, but I must not trifle with my health, I hope to be useful to my friends and to my country and my wearing out my stamina here could serve neither. I do believe it will be a melancholy day among the crew if I am forced to leave them.

By 19 August, the
Melampus
was very short of provisions, and Moore was in such pain that, to get any sleep, he was having to resort to opium

. . . a medicine which I have recourse to very unwillingly. Within these three weeks I have received some benefit from Bark and Chalybeate wine which the Surgeon has great faith in and which I think has been of service to my digestive faculties; but I am crippled with rheumatism in my breast, left arm, shoulder and neck. I must go to England by Hook or by Crook to save my shaken constitution. I give up a great deal if I give up the ship.

On 1 September, the
Melampus
finally arrived at Port Royal, and a defeated Graham Moore made his painful way to the Admiral’s office;

When I waited on the admiral and he saw the state of body I was reduced to, he asked what I intended to do, I told him if the
Melampus
did not go to England very soon or if I could not effect an exchange into some ship that was going I must request that he would order a survey to be held on me, as I was really incapable of doing my duty in the state I had been in for these last seven months. He said there was no intention of sending the
Melampus
to England, but he thought I would be very imprudent if I neglected the opportunity of going to England in the
Amphion,
Capt Bennet, which was to sail on the 7th. I was surveyed two days ago . . . and declared unserviceable in this country.

He returned to the
Melampus
to pack his belongings and make his farewells;

I was so affected in taking leave of the
Melampus
ship’s company which I had commanded for upwards of five years that I burst into tears while addressing them, and when I recovered myself I saw many of them as much affected as myself. One of the Admiral’s Lieutenants has an Order to command the
Melampus
until the arrival of Captn Gossellin of the
Syren
now at sea, and whom the admiral has appointed to succeed me.

That same day he boarded the
Amphion
, and on 7 September she sailed for England. The misery he felt at leaving his frigate was eased a little on the voyage home:

We have a very agreeable party in the
Amphion
’s cabin of two captains of frigates who have lost their ships, besides a gentleman returning to England after many years residence in Jamaica where he has made a very handsome fortune. Since I have been relieved from all charge I find my situation more comfortable, I was before continually on the fret from having duties to perform which my bad health rendered me unequal to . . . I wish to God we may find peace on the eve of being concluded when we get to England; at all events I shall not be able to serve before the Spring.

13

Interregnum (October 1801 – June 1803)

Moore’s return journey to England was not altogether comfortable. The
Amphion
departed Port Royal some thirty tons short of water, and with 180 supernumeraries on board, so the cleanly-minded Moore found the need to economize
‘. . . by no means agreeable’.
On passage they managed to speak to an American brig that gave them news of Lord Nelson’s attack on the gunboats at Boulogne. Moore listened to the details and concluded that this action

. . . was, as far as I can judge with the imperfect information we have, rash, fool hardy, and if followed up, will prove a ruinous exposure of the lives of our invaluable seamen without an adequate object in the event of the fullest success, to justify the risk. If they had succeeded – What is the loss of 18 or 20 Gun Boats or Flats?
¹¹⁸

Six weeks from Port Royal, the
Amphion
entered the English Channel. Moore noticed the change in temperature, and although he was still tormented by rheumatism, he thought the change of climate was making him feel generally better. By the time that they anchored at Spithead on 21 October, they had heard the news that Preliminary Articles of Peace had been signed with the French. With very little delay, Moore set off for Richmond where he received attentive care from both his parents. The cooler English climate certainly seemed to be relieving his ailment; and his mental state was certainly raised on 10 November when his beloved brother John arrived from Egypt, with
‘. . . the wound in his leg quite healed up and only requires a little time and exercise to become as strong as ever’.

Whilst Moore’s rheumatism seemed to be improving, he had developed another eye inflammation. Before this became so bad that he was unable to read, he had nearly been persuaded by James Currie to purchase the estate of Craigieburn, just north-east of Moffat in Dumfries. The area appealed to Moore’s romantic sensibilities as Robert Burns had stayed at Craigieburn House and the area was closely associated with him. Besides,

I am pleased with the idea of possessing a beautiful romantic spot where I may retire if I chuse, and that spot being in my native country and not more than 50 miles from where I was born.

However, he waited too long to put in his offer and the estate was bought by another.

Although technically ‘on the beach’, Moore was still keeping a close eye on naval matters. Just before Christmas 1801, the seamen in Admiral Mitchell’s squadron at Bantry Bay mutinied. Moore was not surprised. He could well sympathize with the seamen, most of whom were pressed men. Now that the hostilities were over they wanted to go home, and they certainly wouldn’t want to be sent to distant foreign stations. But Moore could also see the other side of the argument. There were still deep suspicions about Bonaparte’s motives. The French were preparing to send a large force to St Domingo, and this necessitated sending precautionary reinforcements to the British colony at Jamaica, which would be difficult if naval manpower simply melted away. The problem was partly resolved when part of Saumarez’s squadron was detached and sent to the West Indies. At home, the mutiny was suppressed and, in the middle of January 1802, thirteen of the mutineers were hanged after a trial at Spithead.

A month later, Moore was still at Richmond, suffering from his debilities. His brother John had been sent to train troops near Brighthelmstone (Brighton), and Graham planned to go with him
‘. . . for a change of air as well as for the advantage of bathing’.
Unfortunately, the plans had to be abandoned as Dr Moore was suddenly taken very ill. Moore watched anxiously;

My Father’s disease draws to a crisis, he has been two days confined to his bed. We have not a shadow of hope of his recovery and are now only anxious that he may not suffer.

It was nearly three weeks before Moore made the next, solemn entry in his journal:

On the 21st day of February in the morning my Father died. His disease is supposed to have been seated in the heart which occasioned a difficulty of breathing. He was apparently in a state of insensibility for the last 20 hours before he expired, but while he was sensible he expressed himself in a calm and firm manner, convinced of the existence of an all ruling Providence, and in the hope of a future life. He was cheered in these awful moments by the reflections on his past life, the prosperity of his family and the love they bore each other. He has finished his course honourably and well.

With his father now buried, Moore was at liberty to join his brother at Brighthelmstone. He spent nearly a month there, taking warm salt water baths, but these did nothing to relieve his rheumatic symptoms. On the contrary, he began to feel that the rheumatism had got worse, causing him pains in the head, and by the end of April he decided that he would have to leave the town, for he was finding both the society and landscape of the area quite depressing:

The country is quite open, scarce a bush to be seen and the white chalky road is very distressing to the eyes. The sea is an agreeable object in fine weather and it is not unpleasant to gallop over the Downs, but the crowd of idle people . . . pacing over the same ground eternally, and the want of variety in the scenery is very tiresome.

Moore left Brighton on 3 May, stopping that night with the Lockes at Norbury Park in Surrey
¹¹⁹
, and arriving back at Richmond on the following day. As Brighton had done little to relieve his ailment, friends now pressed him to try the waters at Cheltenham,
‘. . . a place much resorted to by those whose constitutions have been injured by warm climates’.
However, he was sceptical that this would do anything to help.

Despite chronic headaches, and an eye infection that was exacerbated by reading or writing, Moore followed with close interest the ongoing parliamentary debates on the country’s relationship with France. The opposition in parliament, led by Lord Grenville and Windham, persisted in calling for a renewal of the war against Jacobinism, and the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy. As far as Moore was concerned, a lot of energy was being expended in pointless arguing; the French were still a mighty power and energy in Britain would be better directed to restoring her own commercial and military strength. At the same time, he found himself, like many others, increasingly mesmerized by Bonaparte:

France seems to be rapidly sinking into Monarchy again with this difference that the Monarch instead of being the weak effeminate offspring of Hereditary dullness or imbecility, is the hardy production of Temperance, nurtured by adversity, formed by education, excited by Genius and perfected by experience. Certainly the most extraordinary man of the age, the objects of whose ambition is quite unknown but whose history I believe is by no means near a close. He will rivet the attention of the World upon him while he lives and I believe his death will mark a new era in its history.