In the year 1806 about twelve thousand British troops, under the command of Sir John Stuart, had in hand the task of saving Sicily from the grip of Napoleon; but the tortuous policy of their Sicilian majesties, the lack of honesty and of public spirit, and the underhand cabals and oppositions there, hindered far more from being done than was done.
A short time after the English victory at Maida, in which and in the retreat following the French lost in killed and wounded over five thousand, while the English lost only about two hundred and fifty, Sir John Stuart was recalled, and old General Fox, brother of Mr. Charles Fox, then Prime Minister of England, was sent out. Why the brave Stuart should have been thus set aside does not appear, except that, as quaintly remarked by one of Moore’s brothers, “it was a strong proof of fraternal affection” on the part of Mr. Fox.
Sir John Moore, who superseded Stuart, was appointed second in command under General Fox. And at this date occurred his one love affair.
Some mistaken reports on this subject have gained currency. Even lately the assertion has been freshly made that Moore, when he died, was engaged to Lady Hester Stanhope, niece of Mr. Pitt. This was not the case. Lady Hester was his friend; the most intimate woman-friend—though by no means the only one—that he had outside his own home circle; but though he both admired and loved her, it was as a friend only, not as a lover. He seems never to have thought of marrying her. On the conclusive authority of General Anderson, who for twenty-one years was with him constantly in the closest possible intercourse, and from whom Moore appears to have had no secrets, there was but one whom Moore ever seriously wished to marry, and this was Caroline Fox, daughter of the old General in command at Sicily.
That the niece of Mr. Pitt should have been his most intimate woman-friend, and the niece of Mr. Fox his one and only love, reads curiously in the light of party politics. But Sir John was no party man. The great Minister, Pitt, had for him an unbounded esteem and affection, on the one side. And Fox, on the other, at a time when a movement was in progress to make Moore Commander-in-Chief in India, sent for him, and frankly informed him that “he could not give his consent” to this scheme. “It was impossible for him,” he said, “in the state in which Europe then was, to send to such a distance a General in whom he had such entire confidence.” Moore stood outside mere political warfare, grandly and simply, as representative of his country.
Amid the fighting, the difficulties, the perplexities, of Sicilian politics and struggles, he found time to fall profoundly in love. And he did not marry. He did not even let the girl know that he loved her.
Why not?
Well, the matter stood thus. Caroline Fox was very young—not yet eighteen. And Moore was already in his forty-sixth year. There was a discrepancy of nearly thirty years between the two, and Sir John did not think it right, at her early age, even to give her the choice. He was not of a nature to love lightly, or to give up his wishes easily, and it was a hard fight. Harder far this conflict than all his battles with the soldiers of Napoleon. Yet he conquered, and to the young girl herself he spoke not a word which might have opened her eyes. To Anderson he explained his reasons, with a frank and touching simplicity, the echo of which comes down to us now through ninety years and more.
“She is so young,” he said. “Her judgment may be overpowered. The disparity of age is not perhaps at present very apparent, and my position here, my reputation as a soldier of service, and my intimacy with her father, may influence her to an irretrievable error for her own future contentment. My feelings therefore must be suppressed, that she may not have to suppress hers hereafter with loss of happiness.”
Can anything surpass the quiet grandeur of that “must”?