Frigate Commander (25 page)

17th April. The fleet are still in a state of Mutiny . . . They behave much better than could be expected, considering that the Power is completely in their own hands. Regular instructions have gone round to all the ships from the
Charlotte
, recommending the strictest obedience to their officers in every thing except going to sea . . . Some of the ships have gone greater lengths than others but hardly any of them have shewn any ill will to their officers . . . They have not insisted on the Frigates joining them, on the contrary, they do not wish to detain them if they are ordered on any service. The ships in the Harbour have not declared, but there is no doubt that they are no more to be depended on than the others.

Moore was well acquainted with the demands of the mutineers – as all officers probably were soon enough.

By 27 April, Moore believed that the government and Admiralty had conceded the demands of the seamen, and all of the ships had returned to duty except four, which included the frigates
Jason
and
Nymphe
,
‘Which ships have continued in a state of Mutiny ever since on the score of dissatisfaction against their officers’.
At least Moore had the satisfaction of knowing that his men had no real grievance against him, for some captains had been ordered to leave their own ships. Thinking that the affair had been settled, he observed,

This has been a very extraordinary and a very alarming affair. The fleet were for eight days under the command of the Committees of the Seamen of the different ships. A most rigid discipline was kept up and any disobedience to the Orders and Regulations which they themselves had drawn up was punished in an instant with great severity. They prohibited spirituous liquors and every thing stronger than the common small beer . . . One of the leading men in the
Queen Charlotte
received five dozen lashes on board of her for getting drunk, but the common punishment among them was ducking from the fore yard arm, which was practised with very great severity for every fault almost immediately after its commission. The common routine of the Duty went on in the usual way, and in general the Seamen treated their officers with great respect. They disclaimed all disloyalty or disaffection to Government, they declared themselves ready to defend their country to the last, and that they equally longed for an opportunity of meeting the Enemy to convince the Nation that they were no way degenerated from the well known character of English sailors.

Moore’s sympathy for their cause was clear:

The Spirit of the Seamen was aroused by finding that altho’ they were so miserably paid, there was no intention of raising their wages and that they never could obtain by fair means what they are so well entitled to.

In fact, he thought that it would not have been unreasonable if they had raised other grievances also. The main lesson though, was that those in a position of responsibility, be it government or Admiralty, had a duty to consider the needs of their seamen. A failure to deal with such responsibility – the word was one which he had inserted in his own journal – would have serious implications. For those in power and authority

. . . have neglected the matter until it broke forth like lightning. They have taught the Seamen how to carry their point. It may have very serious consequences and is a sad blow to the Naval Discipline.

An uneasy calm settled over the fleet. It was well known that the crews of the ships at Plymouth had been following events closely, and Strachan’s squadron had avoided the dispute only by remaining at sea. The
Melampus
was still receiving the attention of the shipwrights and more of her crew had deserted. Moore was optimistic about getting to sea again soon, even though he was short of complement.

Then the fragile peace was suddenly shattered. The mutiny

. . . broke out with more violence than ever . . . The pretext for this new outrage appears to be the manner the subject was discussed in the House of Peers on the Motion of the Duke of Bedford, which created doubts in the minds of the Seamen lest the concessions granted them by the Admiralty might be negatived by the Parliament.

On Admiral Colpoy’s flagship, the
London
, a seaman was shot by Lieutenant Peter Bover and the angry crew seized their officers, threatening to hang Bover there and then. Many of the seamen were for hanging Colpoys himself, but the majority argued that he should be handed over to the civil authorities. Anger spread through the fleet but there was still a majority who were in favour of giving up the strike but

All the frigates were driven to Mutiny by the large ships who threatened to sink them if they did not go to St. Helens

[i.e. with the other mutinous ships]. Then, at what Moore described as this
‘. . . critical and delicate’
moment, the greatly revered Lord Howe arrived at Portsmouth to negotiate with the seamen;

the whole business came to be revised again, and every thing was given up to the caprice and licentious disposition of the seamen, all the officers whom they had forced on shore were superseded from their ships. This miserable and melancholy negotiation lasted several days, during which time Sir Roger Curtis squadron came round from Torbay being compelled by their crews.

As the mutiny subsided, Moore, like other officers, found himself assessing the damage that had been caused. In the immediate weeks after the strike, much of his sympathy for the seamen had evaporated, though it was to return with hindsight. The second, more angry phase of the strike had unexpectedly touched both Moore and the
Melampus
, and this undoubtedly coloured his opinion. There were still ships in mutiny, and whilst most of the seamen were celebrating their success, many of officers were having to cope with the aftermath. Moore witnessed all of the festivity which was being represented as an enthusiastic celebration of Howe’s intervention on behalf of the seamen, but could see it only as an unwelcome celebration of the seamen’s victory

. . . over the discipline of the Navy, which has received a blow which I much doubt of it ever recovering. A few days after this ridiculous and fatal farce Lord Bridport went to sea, a great number of Officers and men being left behind. The
Melampus
was, on the whole, a very quiet ship, however, one afternoon they forced one of the Midshipmen out of the ship whom they had taken a dislike to. I spoke to them the following day and had influence enough with them to persuade them of the folly of some part of their conduct, and gave them to understand that I expected the Midshipman to return to the ship again. As this was in the very height of the mutiny at Spithead, I suffered a few days to elapse, during which I had opportunities of observing that the generality of the seamen of the ship had been merely passive in this outrage, however I was advised by my friends here not to insist on the reinstatement of the Midshipman but to yield to circumstances and to the temper of the times. The Midshipman was very urgent with me to discharge him; I therefore called them up a few days before we came to Spithead which was on the 22nd and asked them if they meant to persist in the Midshipman being kept out of the ship, they made no answer but seemed divided: I told them I meant to discharge him at his own request, but I desired to know if they meant to commit any further violence or if I was to consider them as returned to their duty as usual. They assured me they had no grievances and were quite satisfied. I told them if they meant to endeavour to get rid of any more officers, as I knew they had no just cause, that I hoped they would apply for another Captain. They said no we are very well satisfied with our Captain and all of our officers. They then gave three cheers and we parted very good friends. On the 22nd the
Melampus
came out to Spithead. The ships at Spithead are all more or less in a state of Mutiny, the streets are filled with drunken sailors, in short, I see no end to this dismal business.

The
Melampus
, together with the frigates
Revolutionnaire
and
Virginie
, was now ordered round to Harwich to ferry the Prince and Princess of Wirtemburgh to the continent. Before leaving port, the crews of the three frigates received their pay, with the inevitable result;

It is now eleven o’clock at night and I do not believe there are 20 sober men on board. They have been boxing at a great rate among the Irishmen, of which description we have a very large proportion, but I do not believe they are at all disposed to Mutiny. They are just left off dancing, and those who are not totally insensible are singing in chorus the ‘Boyne Water’.

Behind this good-natured insobriety, however, there lay a genuine problem which was often the real reason that drunkenness led to punishment on board ships at sea, for a heavily drunken seaman was not a competent one. On the evening of the 28th, the three frigates set sail from Spithead, and the alcohol which had come on board as a consequence of the sailors’ wages was still flowing;

We were in such a state of drunkenness that it was with difficulty we could get the ship under way, and as we were running out we carried away a Sloop of War’s Gib boom without suffering any damage ourselves.

It was an all too common experience.

Shortly before leaving port, an attempt had been made by the crew of the frigate
Beaulieu
– which was still in a state of mutiny – to prevent the three frigates sailing. This had failed, but this and the preceding events certainly made Moore apprehensive about the future. In his darker moments he thought that a

Revolution in the Country is already begun and must go on . . . Those who are for overturning the Government are active and daring, the supporters of it indolent and corrupt in general.

If the navy had mutinied, he thought it even more likely that the army would turn against the government, which was itself only nominally a government –
‘Like the Captains in the Navy, who in the present state of the Navy, only command the ships nominally.’
In such a bleak mood he was afraid of what was going to happen next and it is easy to understand, when he exclaimed that he could take
‘. . . no pleasure in the ship’.

At Cuxhaven, where the Wirtemburgh party was disembarked, Moore was immediately called upon to deal with another disciplinary matter. Whilst anchored here, an Irish seaman on board the
Melampus
seriously abused the First Lieutenant, to the outrage of other members of the crew;

The ship’s company wanted to duck him, but were prevented, tho’ with much difficulty by the first Lieutenant; this morning they were again wanting to punish him and when I went upon deck they were going to reeve a yard rope for the purpose of ducking or hanging him. I ordered all hands aft, told them if they presumed to punish any man of themselves, they took the command of the ship from me, and were in a state of rank mutiny. I then asked the fellow what he had to say for himself to which he replied with great indifference that he had nothing to say, I then ordered him to the Gangway and gave him 39 lashes; and to another man who had stolen some stock, belonging to the Green Cloth
⁵⁶
, a dozen.

The squadron weighed anchor, in calm weather, at about 11pm at night. However, the majority of the
Melampus
’ crew was drunk, with the result that one of the frigate’s best seamen fell overboard and disappeared. Moore despaired:

I am sick and disgusted with the conduct of the ship’s company, the bulk of them never lose an opportunity of getting completely drunk, and I am under the necessity of either winking at their licentious and disorderly conduct, to the ruin of the discipline, or continually punishing them, which is equally revolting.

The answer lay in getting the ship back into more active duty as soon as possible;

I have been under the necessity of punishing a number of seamen since we sailed from Spithead in consequence of their drunkenness and rioting but not a tenth part so many as have richly deserved it. I endeavour to keep up enough of order and regularity to be able to execute the orders we may receive in some way or other, and I believe if we were out of the way of contagion that we should get quite into the old way again.

The problem was that the mutiny had made him unsure of his authority. So far, the crew had maintained their respect for him and his rank; but he knew better than to put this to any real test – and this had a knock-on effect on his ability to properly command the ship. He also felt he had little support from his officers;

This ship is now very much unhinged, we have hardly any good officers in her. The First Lieutenant does nothing more than he is ordered, and that but in a slovenly way, he is good natured and obliging but wants energy and is very little assistance to me when I am on board. We have 35 men in the sick list. O peace, peace, peace.

Without the efficient and energetic support of his executive officer, Moore’s hands were tied to a large degree. If he attempted to intervene in the duties of the First Lieutenant, that officer would not only feel undermined, but his authority would be weakened in the eyes of the crew.

Moore was conscious of his depressed state of mind and didn’t know whether to attribute this to

. . . nerves or the affections of my heart, I should suppose the latter. I have been in the dismals all day, but am come round a little since the evening; my business becomes heavy and insipid to me. I could go through service against the enemy, I think, with zeal and alacrity, but the common ship detail is a burthen to me, more especially at this moment when we are only half obeyed and not sure of being obeyed at all.