Frigate Commander (13 page)

On 2 May, the convoy at last set sail and was joined off Cork by the
Druid
, commanded by Captain Joseph Ellison, who was to escort them for part of the voyage. Moore was pleased to have Ellison in company:

There are certainly some charming fellows in our service among whom I certainly reckon Ellison, with all the frankness which is ascribed to sailors he possesses in great degree the politeness of a man of the world, and that sort of courtesy which seems to flow from a humane and generous heart. His men seem to love him, and are cheerful and happy under him; it requires very little observation to see that, I was convinced of it the second day I was on board his ship. He has an infinite gaiety in his disposition, with some humour, and is a most excellent companion. This gallant officer lost his right arm, above the elbow, when first Lieutenant of
La Prudente
, frigate in an action with
La Capricieuse
during the late war. He had received two wounds before, which lost him a great deal of blood, but would not quit the deck until he fell with the loss of his arm and was carried down by the men.

By 12 May, high seas and heavy squalls had scattered several ships, and the
Bonetta
was twice obliged to take a brig in tow so that she could keep up with the rest of the convoy. The
Bonetta
too was suffering;
‘The sloop’s decks are exceedingly leaky, many of our men have wet hammocks whenever it comes to blow, but we are healthy, and the people are at three watches’
, which meant more time to rest when not on duty. The convoy ploughed on and, as it did so, Moore became increasingly plagued with the problems synonymous with convoy duty:

Many of the Convoy are exceedingly troublesome, by their total disregard they pay to their Instructions; they are continually striving to slip ahead of the
Bonetta
whilst she is obliged to stay by the dull sailors I frequently awaken their attention with a shot athwart their bows.

One of the ships, the
Peggy
of Dartmouth, had already deliberately left the convoy behind, despite Moore’s orders to the contrary, prompting Moore to jot a reminder in his journal to
‘... take the first opportunity of writing to Lloyd’s Coffee House about him’.
Three days later even more of the convoy had slipped away, whilst the
Bonetta
was preoccupied alternately taking two slow brigs in tow. Moore fumed,

I find it impossible to keep the Convoy together, there are not above four or five of them that pay any attention to the signals which I make to them. As I am obliged to wait for the heavy sailors, the others push on, unless we can reach them with a shot which is the only method I have of prevailing upon them to follow their instructions.

Moore ordered the remaining ships to clew up as much sail as possible, to slow the convoy down and allow stragglers to catch up, but by 21 May, only ten of the thirty ships he had set out with were still in sight. Thick fog closed in, and as it did so, seven ships rejoined him. Nothing, though, could lighten Moore’s growing despondency. As usual when depressed, he turned to self-deprecation and pondering over the state of the navy:

I do not believe I shall ever have the character of a smart officer, there is too much detail in it; a constant attention to minutiae, much assiduity and method are indispensable to such a reputation, and I have neither the power nor the wish to acquire it, I am far from condemning it in others, I am not sure that our Naval greatness is not in a great measure owing to our excelling in this which I think myself deficient in. But I believe the great superiority which we have over all Europe in maritime affairs is chiefly to be attributed to a peculiarity of character in the common British Tar. Certainly that hardy, active and careless animal has often carried a Commander to Victory in spite of the most egregious blunders. There is not certainly at this moment a man of Genius among our Flag Officers.

Nor was there any joy to be had in the immediate future. His orders were to take the convoy to Trepassy and Placentia, to the south and east of St John’s, and then to go north to Trinity for provisions. But it was a hopeless cruising ground;

Lord God, what am I to do when I get there? Sail from one fishing station to another, and carry up and down that cursed country a discontented and repining spirit. I have been languishing for a war, and now that there is a kind of one, I am ordered to the place where there is the least chance of any work ... If I am not to be actively employed as a sea officer against the Enemy, I wish I were a merchant, a lawyer, a Physician, for I never was proud of a cockade for its own sake. It is not for me to grumble as I am very sure that many more deserving men are kept in the background, but I see there is too much partiality. There are few that have more thirst for hard earned military reputation than I have. I really long for a battle, although I know from experience, that my feelings will not be very pleasing when it comes. It is nonsense. It is like a woman’s longing. I think it not unlikely that I may be passed over in the next promotion. They may be damned.

Ten leagues from the harbour of St John’s, the remainder of the convoy suddenly scattered and there was nothing Moore could do but watch them depart as they headed for their different destinations. Twenty days after leaving Cork, the
Bonetta
sailed into St John’s where she reprovisioned and then sailed north to Trinity. The ship itself was not in good condition. Although they had had reasonable weather for most of the voyage, water had constantly penetrated the lower decks from cracks in the deck and even from nail holes. The crew were in need of a period of relaxation, and Moore decided to give them a few days’ rest with undisturbed nights’ sleep in their hammocks. Happily, he was able to leave much of the care of the crew to Lieutenant Martin who had already demonstrated an admirable concern for their wellbeing.

Although Moore had previously had an unhappy experience with the Surrogate Court at Trinity, he liked the port, finding its poorer residents industrious and simple in their manners. Nevertheless he was unhappy with the treatment meted out to the native Indians. They were now scarcely seen, as numbers of them were frequently murdered by the fishermen, who over-wintered at the colony. They were also attacked by Canadian Indians, who had been supplied with European firearms, which were not available to the native Indians. With great presentiment, Moore lamented this treatment, for

... great benefit might be derived from these people, if their friendship was cultivated, and the winter inhabitants prevented from murdering them.

He could only hope that the Government would adopt some means of protecting them before they were annihilated.

Moore learned that the senior officer on the station, Captain Courtenay in the frigate
Boston
, had sailed south in search of a French frigate said to be on the American coast. So he sailed round to Fogo, where there was a considerable cod fishery. The trade of the area was dominated by a single merchant, Lister of Poole. With a virtual monopoly on imported goods, Lister was able to charge high prices for goods and provisions in Fogo, and Moore heard a litany of complaints about him from local inhabitants and fishermen. Then he returned to Trinity and Harbour Grace where the
Bonetta
’s decks were re-caulked to make her watertight.

On 22 July, Moore decided to take the sloop out for a cruise between the Grand Banks and 42 degrees north. It was an unauthorized cruise, as Moore was all too well aware:

I am now acting in a manner which subjects me to censure. If I take a Prize the Admiral will put his eighth in his pocket, and never trouble his noddle about the Latitude she was in. But if in my absence any Privateer or Frigate should molest the coast I should be in a damned scrape.

In the privacy of his journal he reasoned that there was little chance of a French frigate attacking the Newfoundland coast, because there was nothing there to be taken. Furthermore,

I must run some risk, or the war will slip away leaving me the consolation of having rigidly obeyed my orders.

He was convinced that they could take any enemy merchantman they came across,

... and I would be very happy to meet any Corvette in their service, but I hope we shall not see any of their Frigates, as I should expect to lose many men and be taken at last. I have good men in the ship, but no dashing active young fellow of an officer. The 1st Lieutenant is a most worthy, diligent, good man, the 2nd is a good fellow, and seaman enough, but he is not active, he has no spring in him. The Master is a lazy, indolent, fat, laughing soul, who minds his own business as little as any man I ever knew in that station. The Midshipmen are not the right sort, and the Warrant Officers want much looking after. I believe they would all fight, in the Dutch way, and I have no doubt but the men would do anything which can be expected of English sailors. Oh that I had a two and thirty
³⁸
, just manned in proportion as this sloop is. But then I must not have her here.

Moore always felt the loss of any of his crew, which was one reason why he recorded accidents or fatalities with such regularity in his journal. Now, on the passage to the Grand Banks, the cook’s twelve-year-old servant became ill with a fever and died after a painful fortnight. With morbid thoughts, Moore noted in his journey,
‘It is shocking to see a being in pain,
[against which]
Death is nothing’.

By the end of the month, the
Bonetta
was hurrying back to her station after a frustrating and fruitless cruise. Moore was still wracked with anxiety after overreaching his designated patrol area. On 15 August they returned to Trinity where, to Moore’s chagrin, there was news that the sloop
Pluto
had taken a French brig. While Moore had been straying from his station in the hope of taking a prize, the
Pluto
had been lucky closer to home. There were also confused rumours about Captain Courtenay in the frigate
Boston
. It was said that whilst in search of the French frigate
L’Embuscade
, the
Boston
had lost her mizzen mast at sea and had to put into New York for repairs, where the French frigate was lying under protection of American neutrality.
‘I suppose they will be comparing notes’
, Moore observed rather sourly in his journal. Several days later, there was different news, and Moore was back to his ebullient self, relishing the possible success of his colleague. The story about the
Boston
being in New York had been a lie; she had last been seen off New York, having sent in a challenge to the French frigate. The outcome was not known, but the officers at Newfoundland were clearly keen to discuss the possibilities;

The
Boston
is one of the old two and thirty’s, small and by no means so well calculated for fighting as the new class of Frigates but Courtenay is a charming fellow, and I shall be happy to hear of their meeting. The great danger a small frigate is in from the fire of a larger is in the probability of losing her masts, which when it happens, the most you can expect is to beat your adversary off.

There was also great news from England, where the French frigate
Cleopatre
had been taken by Sir Edward Pellew in the frigate
Nymphe
, the first such success of the war;
‘My friend Pellew has fought a gallant action and has been knighted for it, I would be very glad to fight a gallant action’
, observed Moore, adding inexplicably,
‘but I would be sorry to be knighted.’

Meanwhile, Moore had a more immediate problem to deal with in a case of attempted sodomy aboard the
Bonetta
. His response to this was revealing:

Yesterday I did what I had no right to do, in flogging and turning a seaman ashore, who had acted in a manner disgraceful to the character of an Englishman. I must either have acted as I did, or taken the fellow round to be tried by Court Martial; it was impossible for him to remain in the ship after it. The horror and indignation which our countrymen have for attempts of that nature could not brook such a man remaining amongst them. Besides I am of opinion that morality suffers by such practices becoming notorious.

The sudden recall of his attention to the men under his command led him to further observations on the character and nature of the common seaman. More serious misdemeanours were reprehensible and had to be dealt with severely but he also believed, paradoxically, that

... if they were totally free from the vices and follies which so often lead them into scrapes, some of their peculiar excellencies would quit them at the same time; I believe that the same carelessness of their persons which makes them sell their cloathes makes them patient of cold and wet. Having their swing ashore, and throwing away their money on whores, fiddlers and grog drives them to sea again; and the prospect of another such swagger makes them prefer foreign service that they may have a good haul of money at once. I have a set of famous fellows in this little bum boat, if the Admiral takes any of them from me he will break my heart.

Moore was evolving into an excellent commanding officer, one who understood and valued the tools with which he worked. His reputation was also spreading and he was constantly turning away men who wished to serve under him, though he attributed this to the fact that they were really discontented with their current employers. He also had a deal of sympathy for both merchant seamen and fishermen on the Newfoundland station because, in order to ensure that seamen on the station returned to England at some point, their employers were prohibited from paying them more than half their wages whilst abroad. Instead, they were issued with Bills of Exchange for the remnant of their wages, which could only be surrendered for cash in England. However, at the same time, the English merchants wanted fishermen to over-winter in Newfoundland, as this avoided the time wasted in getting them to and from the crucial fishing grounds. The result was growing hardship and discontent. It was hardly surprising that many seamen sought escape via the Royal Navy.