Born in Glasgow on the 13th Novemebr 1761, he was the son of John Moore Scottish physician and writer. He attended Glasgow High School, but at the age of eleven joined his father and the Duke of Hamilton on a Grand tour of France, Italy and Germany, This included a two-year stay in Geneva, where his education continued. In 1776, aged 15, Moore joined the British Army as an ensign in the 51st Foot , then based in Minorca. He first saw action in 1778 during the American Revolutionary War as a lieutenant in the 82nd under the 8th Duke of Hamilton. Returning to Britain in 1783 and was elected to Parliament in 1784 as the Member for Lanark, Selkirk, Peebles and Linlithgow, a seat which he held until 1790. He is seen here with the 8th Duke of Hamilton centre and his father to left of the picture. In 1787 he was made Major and joined the 60th briefly before returning to the 51st as commanding officer in 1790. In 1791 his unit was assigned to the Mediterranean and he was involved in campaigning in Corsica and wounded at Calvi. He was later given a Colonelcy and became Adjutant-General to Sir Charles Stuart. However, there was friction between Moore and the new British viceroy of Corsica and this led to his recall and posting to the West Indies under Sir Ralph Abercromby. In 1798 he was made Major-General and served in the suppression of the republican Irish Rebellion (1798) raging in Ireland. His personal intervention was credited with turning the tide at the battle of Foulksmills on 20th June and he regained control of Wexford town, thereby possibly preventing its sacking. Although the rebellion was crushed with great brutality, Moore stood out from most other commanders for his humanity and refusal to perpetrate atrocities. When it became clear that Napoleon was planning an invasion of England, Moore was put in charge of the defence of the coast from Dover to Dungeness and it was on his initiative that the Martello Towers were constructed. They followed a pattern which had impressed him whilst in Corsica, where the prototype tower, at Mortella Point, had offered a stout resistance to British land and sea forces. He also initiated the cutting of the Royal Military Canal in Kent and Sussex and recruited about 340,000 volunteers to a militia that would have defended the lines of the South Downs, if an invading force had broken through the regular army defences. In 1804 Moore was knighted and promoted to Lieutenant-General. In 1806 he returned to active duty in the Mediterranean and then in 1808 in the Baltic, to assist the Swedish. However, disagreements with Gustavus IV of Sweden led to him being sent home where he was ordered to Portugal. Moore took command of the British forces in the Iberian peninsula following the recall of Burrard, Dalrymple and Wellesley, who all faced an inquiry over the Convention of Sintra. When Napoleon arrived in Spain with 200,000 men, Moore drew the French northwards while retreating to his embarkation ports of A Coruña and Vigo. Moore established a defensive position on hills outside the town. Unfortunatley he was fatally wounded at the Battle of Corunna, being struck in his left breast and shoulder by a cannon shot, which broke his ribs, his arm, lacerated his shoulder and the whole of his left side and lungs. He remained conscious, and composed, throughout the several hours of his dying, and was buried in the ramparts of the town. When the French took the town, a monument was built over his grave as ordered by Marshal Soult, in memory of his passed adversary for whom he had much respect.

Dr John Moore (left), the 8th Duke of Hamilton (centre), Ensign John Moore (right) Sir John Moore Sir John Moore with his horse The burial of Sir John Moore Sir John Moores Tomb as seen today, A Coruña

The Burial of Sir John Moore after Corunna

Charles Wolfe. 1791–1823

Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,

  As his corse to the rampart we hurried;

  Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot

  O'er the grave where our hero we buried.

 We buried him darkly at dead of night,

 The sods with our bayonets turning,

  By the struggling moonbeam's misty light

  And the lanthorn dimly burning.

No useless coffin enclosed his breast,

  Not in sheet or in shroud we wound him;

  But he lay like a warrior taking his rest

  With his martial cloak around him.

Few and short were the prayers we said,

And we spoke not a word of sorrow;

  But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead,

  And we bitterly thought of the morrow.

 We thought, as we hollow'd his narrow bed

  And smooth'd down his lonely pillow,

That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head,

  And we far away on the billow!

 Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that 's gone,

  And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him—

  But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on

  In the grave where a Briton has laid him.

But half of our heavy task was done

  When the clock struck the hour for retiring;

  And we heard the distant and random gun

  That the foe was sullenly firing.

Slowly and sadly we laid him down,

  From the field of his fame fresh and gory;

  We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone,

  But we left him alone with his glory.

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