Our Fleets are too often commanded by men of no talents, but the great excellence of the English Marine in general renders the faults of those who happen to command less fatal.
With the
Shannon
sheltering in Black Sod Bay while she tried to repair her bowsprit, Moore received a report from the Carpenter of the
Melampus
that the frigate’s foremast was sprung. The crew struck the foretopgallant mast and shortened the jib boom, but that same night the ship was suddenly taken aback by a violent squall. An anxious few hours followed, with the frigate embayed near a lee shore, and all hopes resting on a reefed foresail on the damaged mast. Happily, the temporary repair held and next day Moore received orders to rejoin Bridport. Arriving at Cork on 9 June, the frigate was ordered to proceed to Spithead for repair. At Spithead he was told the frigate would not be ready for sea again for three weeks so, as planned, he travelled to London. He called at the M house at the first opportunity and spent some time with Miss M; however, for the first time, he sensed a certain coldness on the part of her mother and he could not ignore the fact that she seemed to be trying to keep him at a distance. Nevertheless, he resolved to press ahead with his proposal of marriage and made the necessary arrangement to call upon Mr M. When they met, Moore outlined his feelings towards Miss M, detailed his financial position and prospects, and then asked that he might be granted permission to propose marriage. M’s response appeared to be kind and encouraging, and with regard to his daughter,
. . . he believed her to be perfectly disengaged, that he knew she had a high opinion of me and a very great regard for me, but whether it went so far as to make her willing to quit her family or not he did not know. It was agreed that I should see her the next morning.
In a buoyant mood, Moore returned to his parents’ house and acquainted them with the situation. The very next morning he would return to the Ms’ house and ask the woman he had dreamed about for so long, to become his wife. His reverie was shattered when, but a few hours later, a letter from Mr M was delivered by hand. Opening the letter, Moore read that M had
. . . found he had undertaken more than he could perform, that his daughter had begged of him to spare her the pain of saying what she could not bear even to write again. That she hoped I would forgive her when she acknowledged that with the highest respect for me she was yet unacquainted with any thing that could reconcile her to a separation from her family. This came like a thunderbolt upon me. I instantly went to her father and there had a scene which I can never forget. He told me that when she heard that he had appointed me to see her next morning she was so agitated and distressed that he found it was impossible.
In considerable distress himself, Moore begged M to let him see his daughter. M promised that he would ask his daughter if she would speak to him, and requested that Moore return a little later – but when Moore returned it was to find that she still
‘could not bear to see me’
. She had, however, written him a letter in which she explained that she wished to spare them both the pain of a meeting, and that what she had said was both final and decisive;
‘I read this like a man stupefied: my mortification was extreme . . . I can say no more.’
In fact, he was so broken that he burst into tears. M was kindness and understanding itself, but nothing could lessen the pain. Shattered, Moore returned to his parents’ house, where after a few days he attempted to commit his feelings to his journal:
I believe I shall never get over the misery of this bitter disappointment where I had set my heart. I feel myself to have been unworthily dealt with, but I am incapable of resentment. I love her as much as ever . . . I have been wretched ever since, and I am now fit for nothing that requires thought, for I cannot turn my mind from this subject.
His heart was broken, and his confidence badly shaken. It was probably no coincidence that brother John appeared in London a few days later. He was being sent to the south coast to help train a brigade as part of the preparation for an unnamed expedition. Graham could only envy John’s self-possession and single-mindedness:
‘. . . he has his whole heart, soul and faculties turned to his profession. Would it were so with me!’
The older brother clearly attempted to console his younger sibling over the next few days, and almost certainly in an attempt to distract him from his pain, the two had discussed plans to live together in the country within a few hours of London. Moore was inexorably drawn towards Surrey because of its
‘naturally beautiful and luxuriant scenery’.
On 17 July, the
Melampus
sailed from Spithead once again, but her commander was deeply unhappy, noting emptily in his journal,
‘I am heavy and low’.
An old friend
90
had decided to accompany him on this cruise, almost certainly out of concern for his welfare, and although the man tried to be entertaining, Moore’s state of dejection was too intense. His spirits were lightened somewhat when, three days out of Spithead, they sighted and gave chase to a strange brig but just after they had set the royals, the main topmast was found to be badly sprung. The officers and crew of the
Melampus
could have been forgiven if they had, at this point, succumbed to despair at what appeared to be a resumption of their bad luck with topmasts. But, instead,
. . . in three hours and 25 minutes the mast was shifted and the Royals set again. This without any previous preparation, was the smartest job I have ever seen done by the crew of the
Melampus.
I applauded them heartily and ordered them an allowance of grog besides their beer as a proof of my satisfaction at their good conduct. The Brig is still in sight, I believe her to be an English cruiser. I have painted the
Melampus
all Black which will certainly render her more deceitful at sea than ever, we have more than once succeeded by deceiving the Enemy’s cruisers.
Arriving at Cork on 22 July, Moore reported to a surprised Admiral Kingsmill who had been led to believe that the
Melampus
was no longer under his orders. However, he knew better than to fail to take advantage of a plum dropped into his lap. He agreed to speedily supply the frigate with a new topmast, and gave Moore orders to cruise northwards with the frigate
Galatea
, commanded by Captain George Byng
91
, under his command. They were to search for a privateer that had been causing some trouble off Tory Island, and then cruise to the west of Cape Clear to protect any convoys – especially an expected East Indies convoy. Moore was particularly pleased with these orders because, whilst in London, it had been intimated to him by Earl Spencer that the
Melampus
might be appointed to a new expedition. Moore’s brother, John, was being sent to Holland, and Moore thought that was no station for the
Melampus
.
92
The
Galatea
and the
Melampus
sailed northwards from Cork at what seems an easy pace;
Captain Byng proposed to me to share Prize Money together for the cruise which I declined as I think in case of separation we have a better chance of making captures than the Galatea. Besides I do not yet know what kind of a cruiser she is.
From experience, Moore knew that two frigates sailing together would instantly alarm any French privateer which saw them approaching. There would be no chance of taking a privateer by deception – a tactic that Moore had found to be effective in the past. Any chances they had were further reduced by the arrival of the frigate
Naiad
, commanded by William Pierrepont. She was also waiting for the East Indies convoy and seemed reluctant to leave the area. Moore knew that her presence meant that his chances of surprising a privateer were practically nil.
Predictably it was difficult for Moore to avoid thinking about his recent personal disappointment which, as the weeks passed, he became increasingly bitter about. He became convinced that the deciding factor had been his lack of fortune:
If I can only make two or three more cruises as good as that in March and April last I shall be able to sit down very comfortable as to the affair of income. Indeed I could do very well at present as a Bachelor, but that is not the state that I can rest satisfied in. I can form no plan of happiness unconnected with this Jade that has torn my heart to pieces; she makes me wish for money which otherwise I should care very little about.
In this state of mind he longed for the opportunity of bringing an enemy ship to action:
‘Something to rouse and animate me, to divert my mind from despondency.’
At least he could find some joy in his ship, though to some degree he was probably venting his feelings on Martin, his First Lieutenant:
We exercised the great guns today, whenever this is the case the appearance of our men fills me with confidence and makes me long to bring them alongside of a French Ship. It is not that they are by any means in good order, but they are stout and confident. I am wretchedly off for a 1st Lieutenant, he wants activity, skill and zeal; all that is in his favour is good nature and I believe honesty with the manners of a gentleman and the dirty appearance and dress of a sloven. He is I believe somewhat attached to me and I do not believe he is deficient in personal courage. I cannot hurt his feelings by shaking him off, but it is melancholy to have such a second.
Moore was also unable to avoid slight pangs of guilt about deliberately trying to escape the expedition to Holland, after all his brother John was being sent there. With great perspicacity he observed:
If the attack is to be on Flushing and the Isle of Walcheren, I believe we are likely to lose a good many lives, as it is full of broad ditches and embankments which afford cover for troops acting on the defensive . . . I pray God my excellent friend and brother may survive the dash of the landing which I think will fall to his lot.
93
Continuing northwards the two frigates found no signs of enemy shipping. As usual Moore wiled away the hours reading in his cabin, quickly devouring Diderot’s
The Nun
, Thomas Matthias’
Pursuits of Literature
94
and then, in desperation, borrowing
The Necromancer:
Or The Tale of the Black Forest
95
‘. . . a very indifferent novel’
, which he read in a single day and then berated himself for his idleness. He was also poring over some newspapers for naval news and was pleased to learn that Admiral Keith had succeeded St Vincent as Commander-in-Chief of the Mediterranean fleet. Keith was
‘. . . a man of spirit and I have no doubt will conduct them ably and gallantly’
and, of course, he was also a fellow Scot! Moore also read of a number of gallant cutting-out expeditions by frigates:
There is no service so hazardous as attacks by this nature, and I hardly ever have consented to risk any boats on attempts of a similar nature. In general on these occasions the men who compose the parties are all volunteers, and of course have prepared their minds for an action of vigour.
On 10 August the two frigates fell in with the
Dryad
and the
Revolutionnaire
who had been cruising on the ground to which Moore and Byng were heading. They reported not only that there had been no enemy vessels sighted in the last four to five weeks, but that they had also already escorted the East Indies convoy to safety. Reassured by this news, Moore felt at some liberty to extend his cruise, sweeping south and west before turning back towards the north coast of Ireland. He was well aware that once again he was overstepping his orders, but if he was called to account for this,
‘I shall plead guilty and urge only my good intentions as my excuse’.
Three days later they reached Lat 46.57N and Long 23.51W, approximately 900 miles west of Ushant – and a considerable distance from his official station. With a gale blowing up, he decided to head north-west hoping that he would not run into any convoys, packets or English men-of-war who might report seeing him so far from his authorized position. Despite the activity, Moore found it difficult to avoid thinking of Miss M, and he found himself slipping into what he described as a
‘morbid languor’
which was certainly not helped by the weather, for they were soon lying-to in foggy rain;
Rainy weather is the most uncom fortable of any on board of a ship, we have then no kind of resource; when the weather is fair even a Gale of wind affords some kind of amusement.
A report from an American brig, of a French privateer with an English East Indiaman in tow, caused a brief flurry of excitement but this dissipated when the only suspicious sail they found disappeared during the night. By noon on 23 August the
Melampus
and
Galatea
were just seventy-eight leagues from Cape Ortegal on the north coast of Spain, when they should have been off the north coast of Ireland. Moore could only pray that they didn’t run into any other English men-of-war who might report their position. Two days later they recaptured an English brig which had been taken by a letter-of-marque from Bordeaux. Moore put a midshipman and ten men on board and sent her to Cork, gleefully recording in his journal,
‘I believe this to be a very valuable vessel, she is laden with Salt Petre, Gum, Almonds, and skins.’
Then, unbelievably, on the last day of August, the
Melampus
’ carpenter reported that the main topmast was badly sprung. As this was already the spare mast, the crew had to sway up the spare fore topmast in its place, but because this was smaller, it meant the
Melampus
would not be able to carry as much sail. Moore was perplexed: