CHAPTER IX.
SOME ACCOUNT OF ENGLAND'S HERO.
An excuse need hardly be offered for giving here a few details as to the past history of General Moore, if only in explanation of Denham Ivor's supreme devotion to the man, and of Jack Keene's more outspoken admiration. Though Moore's name is inscribed in letters of blood upon the deathless roll of our national heroes, not so much is known about him by people in general as ought to be known. Ninety years ago a common mode of referring to him in the country, and still more in the Army, seems to have been simply as "Our Hero." And of this tale John Moore is the real centre.
In those times of perpetual warfare, officers often reached high rank early. In the year 1803 he was still in the prime of manhood, having been born in 1761.
His father, a Scotch physician of eminence, and also a very successful author,[1] must have occupied a different position from that of the average medical man of those days. He was appointed to be the guardian and the travelling companion of the young Duke of Hamilton, and he showed himself well fitted for the trust; while his son from the first shone as a star in whatever circle he might be placed. The doctor's wife was a daughter of Professor Simpson, of Glasgow University. When the doctor started on a lengthy Continental tour with his charge, he took also his eldest son John, then about ten years old, and the absence lasted nearly five years. No small trial this to members of a most affectionate family, but heavy money losses made it impossible for Dr. Moore to give up his charge, even had he wished to do so.
From boyhood John showed a conscientious devotion to duty, and a marked dislike to aught in the shape of fashionable foppery. Although he early learnt self-control, he was as a child very impulsive and hasty-tempered, and addicted to fighting. At the age of eleven he narrowly escaped killing a servant girl through meddling with loaded pistols; and soon after he received his accidental injury from the sword of the Duke, in careless play. Before this wound was healed, he managed to get into a smart quarrel with some French boys in the gardens of the Tuileries. They, being formally powdered, frizzled, and attired like grown men, were disposed to jeer at Jack Moore's boyish simplicity of dress, and Jack proceeded promptly to knock them all down, one upon the top of another. Since he could box, and they had not learnt that noble art, they had no chance against him, and a great outcry was raised. Dr. Moore, hurrying to the spot, picked up the fallen, did his best to comfort them, and severely blamed his son for lack of politeness, which little incident gives one a clue to the perfection of Moore's manners in later life.
By the age of fourteen he was a singularly fascinating young fellow, with a face of manly beauty, a daring temper, and a growing passion for the Army. Already he had become a good linguist, and was an adept at both riding and fencing. About this time when, in the course of their travels, the three went to Vienna, the Emperor of Austria definitely offered to take the brilliant boy into his service, promising rapid promotion. But Moore was even then far too ardent a patriot to serve in any other Army than that of his own country. The idea was never for a moment entertained.
It is curious to find him at this date, a mere lad of fourteen, writing home to his next brother, Graham, in the style of a grown man to one far his junior.
"I am pleased, my dear boy, that you wish to be a sailor, for I am sure you will be a brave one. I hope that in some years after this you and I will thresh the Monsieurs, both by sea and land; but I hope that we won't make war with the Spaniards, for the Spanish ambassador is the best and kindest man I ever saw."
In 1774 Dr. Moore wrote home to his wife:—
"I was happy to find that you do not disapprove of Jack's going into the army. I hope this may turn out well, because he chooses it, has a turn for it, and I believe is of a character to make a good figure as a soldier. He is attentive, active, and brave; he has great good sense, will have many accomplishments, and is the most beautiful and graceful boy imaginable. It is a very disputable case whether the Duke of Hamilton or Jack is the handsomest. Jack does not stoop as the Duke, but will have a good carriage, and though he is so very pretty, he has not the least tendency to be a coxcomb."
And in another letter, two years later, occurs a characteristic description of the boy.
"Jack was as fond as the Duke of returning to Geneva, and he is much too strong for me when the Duke is his second. We were received by our friends with infinite kindness, and have been wonderfully feasted. Jack quitted Geneva a boy, and has returned a man. Though he has been caressed by all the high and mighty of the Republic, and is always invited with the Duke and me, yet if, at the same time, he has an invitation from any of his old acquaintances of a much humbler class, he always prefers the latter. I pressed him one day to go with us, because the people had insisted particularly on his coming. It was to a fine villa, and a most brilliant party. I could not prevail; he silenced me with this sentence: 'They who have invited me are poor; they were kind to me when the others did not think me worth their notice.' Never was a creature less spoiled than your son by all the great people who have caressed him, nor by all the uncommon fine situations[2] he has been in. Though his manner is manly and noble, yet it is simple, and he assumes no airs. He is a charming youth. I wish you had him in your arms."
At the age of fifteen he was made Ensign in the 51st Regiment, though he did not actually join till some months later. Among the many dangers in his career was one in those few months, when paying a visit to Mount Vesuvius. "Jack" ventured perilously near to the crater, and in hurrying away he fell and damaged his knee. A shower of lava and hot stones poured directly afterwards upon the spot he had just quitted. Had Jack Moore's retreat that day been less prompt, another most famous and masterly retreat, followed by a never-to-be-forgotten battle, would not have been inscribed upon the pages of English history.
His great friend, Douglas, Duke of Hamilton, was seized by a passing fit of military enthusiasm, a few months after John Moore had joined the 51st, which in a letter at that date he described as "one of the best regiments in the service; as to officers, I never knew such a number of fine gentlemanly lads. General Murray told me he did not believe there was such a corps of officers in the army; there is no such thing as either drinking or gambling going on." However, in 1777 a fresh regiment was raised for the express purpose that the Duke of Hamilton might have the pleasure of commanding it; and though he soon grew tired of his new vocation, and resigned his commission, he sent first for his friend and made him lieutenant and paymaster. Moore went with the "Hamilton Regiment" to Nova Scotia, and had some hard fighting out there, gaining great credit for personal prowess.
Peace was proclaimed before the close of 1783 between Great Britain and her then four enemies: France and Spain, Holland and the United States. Though Britain in those days had much less than half her present population, she was wont most cheerfully to engage in war with three or four nations at one and the same time, apparently without any serious misgivings as to results.
The "Hamilton Regiment" being disbanded, Captain Moore, then aged only twenty-three, went home to live with his parents in London. He studied hard, and was much in society, being a universal favourite. Through the influence of the Duke of Hamilton, with whom when possible he always spent two autumn months, he was chosen to represent in Parliament four Scottish boroughs, but it was with the express stipulation on his part that he should be in all cases free to follow his own judgment. He never had been, and he never became in the true sense a party-man, but had friends on all sides, friends who held every variety of political opinion. Moore fought for country, not for party.
In 1787 he was appointed Major of a new battalion at Chatham, and he gladly forsook civil for military duties. During the following year he rejoined his first regiment, the 51st, at Cork, and soon became Lieutenant-General. While he was there young Anderson, an Ensign in his regiment, became one of his most devotedly-attached friends, and was ever after his inseparable companion.
By this time he was known as a disciplinarian of unusual power, indulgent when he might safely be so, but inflexible in enforcing strict obedience. In an age when hard drinking was the fashion, he set his face like a flint against habits of intemperance, alike in the ranks and among officers, from most of whom he had steady support. One young lieutenant, who ventured to appear on parade in a state of intoxication, was forced by him to resign the service, and from that time Moore had no further trouble. His regiment became widely known for its exceptional sobriety and dependableness.
In 1792 he was ordered to Malta, and two years later he was fighting with the French in Corsica, the peace having already come to an end. On the 10th of July ended successfully the siege of Calvi, that being the last spot in the island which the French had managed so far to keep. As Moore was gallantly storming the breach he had a severe wound, a fragment of shell striking him on the head. For an instant he was stunned; but regaining sense, he once more sprang up the breach. Sir Charles Stuart, chief-in-command, looking anxiously on, was alarmed at the bursting of shells among the assailants. He rushed forward and dashed over intervening obstacles, to find Moore in the midst of shouting grenadiers, his face streaming with blood. Apparently the great dread of Sir Charles had been that he was killed, for in the excitement of the moment he caught him in his arms, hardly able to utter his thankfulness, not only that the breach was won, but that John Moore still lived.
Two years later a collision between the English viceroy of Corsica, Sir Gilbert Elliot, and Sir Charles Stuart, made the latter resign his command and return to England; and later Moore was sharply ordered home by Elliot, who seems to have been annoyed with the friendship between him and the leading Corsican patriots. Moore, on reaching England, protested with much heat against the way in which he had been treated. He had, however, no need to disquiet himself. The King and the Duke of York took the matter up, promoted him to the rank of Brigadier-General, and sent him out to the West Indies, there to serve under Abercrombie. Both the Duke of York and Pitt had been, from the time of his seat in Parliament, his personal friends. Wherever he went he made friends for life.
While he was in the West Indies, Denham Ivor, then a young subaltern of eighteen, was first thrown under the fascinating influence of Moore, having been for years one of his warmest admirers. As usual, numberless opportunities occurred for the display of personal bravery, in which Moore always shone. On one occasion he had a most narrow escape. At the storming of the all but impregnable fortification of Morne Fortuné in St. Lucia, as he led a desperate charge against the French, shouting till nearly voiceless, "Forward, forward! We have almost gained the heights!" a musket was aimed point-blank at him. One half second more, and Moore's career would have been ended; but a private grenadier, seeing his peril, flung himself between, received the bullet meant for him, and was caught in Moore's arms as he fell dead.
Ivor too had won laurels and promotion in those days of hard fighting. Moore's influence over the younger officers was unrivalled; and many a one besides Ivor could look back, long years after, with the knowledge that John Moore had been the making of him, not only as a soldier, but as a man. Moore shaped the characters of those with whom he had to do.
Somewhat later, when St. Lucia had been wrested from the French, he was appointed Commandant and Governor of the island; no easy post, for the negroes had revolted, in imitation of the recent French Revolution, and they were fearfully cruel and barbarous in their methods of warfare. Abercrombie kept Moore there, long after the latter had, on account of illness, begged to be released from the charge, because he knew of no other man capable of taking his place.
While striving to put down the rebels, or "brigands," as they were called, Moore had a dangerous attack of fever. On his recovery from it and from a severe relapse, he was again hard at work, rising at six in the morning and often undertaking a thirty-miles march in the day, till again laid low with a desperate attack of yellow fever, which all but carried him off. But for the devotion of Anderson and of his own French servant François,[3] he could not possibly have struggled through. Then, with broken health, he was ordered home; and he reached London a mere wreck of his old self.
(To be continued.)
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