On May 9, 1839, the Officiating Secretary to the Government of India wrote to Maitland: "The Right Hon. the Governor-General highly applauds the cordial and able assistance offered by the officers and crews of H.M.'s and the Hon. Company's ships, in the removal on board the ships of the Resident and his suite from the Residency at Bushire,—an operation which, but for their aid, might have been attended with difficulty and danger." Maitland was bitterly attacked by the Anglo-Indian press for his forbearance on this occasion, which it was said had lowered British prestige in the eyes of the Persians. It is possible that our relations with Persia might have been improved by the slaughter of the Bushire mob by the Wellesley's marines, but apparently the Admiral thought otherwise.
The Bushire incident was followed by a cruise round the Persian Gulf, in the course of which the Admiral had various interviews with the local chiefs, and impressed upon them the necessity of keeping the peace and respecting British interests.
It was his last service. He died at sea, off Bombay, on November 30, 1839. A letter from the late Admiral Philip Somerville,[2] then a lieutenant on board the Wellesley, describes the closing scenes.
"On our arrival at Bombay, Nov. 3," he writes, "the tents had not been pitched more than a week or so, and the one fitted by the Government for the Admiral was so very large that, after our arrival, he had to remain for some days on board ship ere it was ready. You may fancy the state the ground was in after five months' heavy rain,—the chill and damp scarcely possible to describe,—evaporation of course following the excessive heat of the day. A week had scarcely passed ere he felt its effects, but he could say nothing. On the 15th November I dined with him on shore. He seemed then tolerably well. On Sunday, 17th, he visited the ship, and returned to his tent. On the 18th he dined with her Majesty's 6th Regiment, and complained a little that day. The 21st, he was out to see our sailors and marines exercising. The complaint from that time made rapid progress. Saturday, 23rd, Lady Maitland went to a large party, but returned to the Admiral very early. Sunday 24th and Monday 25th he was dangerously ill; 26th and 27th, rather easier. Preparations were made for going to sea. On the 28th, the poor old fellow was brought off and hoisted on board in a palankeen. I saw him for a moment. Poor Sir Frederick lay with his head thrown back, his mouth a little open, his cheeks sunk, and his whole frame totally changed. He was conveyed to his cabin. We immediately got under way. All gloom, and solemn silence prevailed. I daresay some at least were in deep thought, some thinking of his former prosperity, others of the money he had made; perhaps some thought of the happy and honourable day on which Bonaparte surrendered. After lingering until Saturday the 30th, at 11.45 he expired. One can scarcely conceive the sensation caused by the mournful event. The countenances of all evinced deep sorrow for their chief, a man who was looked up to by all who knew him, and greatly beloved by those under his command....
"On Monday morning, preparations having been made the previous day, the troops of the garrison and boats from the ships began to assemble. The ship was painted black all over, and her yards topped in mourning. The body was conveyed in his own boat, the barge, the other boats following in order with their colours half-mast, presenting a very imposing sight. On leaving the ship, minute-guns began; and on the corpse reaching the shore, it was received with a guard of honour, and the fort commenced firing minute-guns as we formed in procession. The troops had their arms reversed, and the same people who received the Admiral that day fortnight at the dinner given by the 6th Regiment formed part of the parade that sorrowful moment. They lined the road through which we passed, and reached to the church. Here the body was received in the usual way, and all the respectable attendants followed it into the cathedral. The lesson was read by the officiating Archdeacon, and on coming to the grave in the aisle of the church, the Bishop read the service in a very affecting and solemn manner. After the ceremony we returned to our respective ships."
A monument to Sir Frederick's memory was erected in Bombay Cathedral by the officers of his command. "Among names," writes Lieutenant Low in his History, "which will ever be held in affection by the officers whose record of service is now 'as a tale that is told,' that of Maitland, the gallant and chivalrous seaman, to whom the mighty Napoleon surrendered his sword on the quarter-deck of the Bellerophon, will ever be prominent; and this record of his worth and nobility of character, and that other memorial on the walls of the Cathedral Church of St Thomas, will testify to the grateful remembrance in which his memory is held by the officers of the Indian Navy."
Chart of Basque Roads