Chapter 9 of 41 · 3930 words · ~20 min read

Part 9

Writing about 1740, Leslie, in his “New and Exact Account of Jamaica,” says:—“Port Royal was once the fairest seaport in America, it flowed in Riches and Trade, now it is only a small place, but yet it consists of three handsome streets, several cross lanes and a fine Church. They have a Hospital for sick or disabled Sailors, and there is lately built a Yard for the King’s Naval Stores and conveniency of Workmen employed about His Majesty’s Ships of War.”

Although doubt had been expressed as to the wisdom of appointing Port Royal as a rendezvous, “for fear of the soldiers staying too long there, and getting sickness, by drinking too much rum, as has usually been the case,” on January 17, 1740–41, by far the largest force that ever assembled in Jamaica waters was gathered together. On that day twenty-four ships of the line under Sir Chaloner Ogle, with nine thousand soldiers under Brigadier Wentworth, reached Port Royal as a reinforcement for Vernon’s fleet. The attempt on Cartagena was a miserable failure, owing to divided command, lack of ability on Wentworth’s part, disease caused by the rainy season, and general mismanagement, which was exposed by Smollett, the novelist, who was surgeon’s mate on one of Ogle’s vessels. He married a Jamaica lady (the original of Narcissa in “Roderick Random”) and lived for a time in Jamaica.

Ill-feeling also between Vernon and Wentworth was responsible for the lack of success which attended the attack on St. Jago de Cuba.

During a storm in 1744 the larger part of the fleet was luckily at sea under Sir Chaloner Ogle, but there were in the harbour nine men-of-war and ninety-six merchant-ships. One hundred and four were stranded, wrecked or foundered, so that only the _Rippon_ rode it out with the loss of her masts. A great number of marines perished.

We learn from a petition from the inhabitants of Port Royal to the Assembly, in October 1751, that during the hurricane of that year, the sea “by forcing up the sand to a level with the wall, has rendered it quite unserviceable, as it gained, by that means, a free and easy passage into the town, and filled the greatest part of it with such a quantity of water, that many of the inhabitants, in the extremity of the weather, were obliged to abandon their houses, and fly for shelter to places of greater safety.” It then appeared that the law of 1717 arranging for the repairing of the wall had been a dead letter since 1737.

When Rodney assumed command in 1771, he found that apartments only were provided for the admiral at Port Royal, and it was doubtless due to his

## action that “Admiral’s Pen” near Kingston (the present poor-house), was

purchased just before he left in 1774. One of the chief objects to which he devoted his attention while on this station was the watering of the fleet—the water having hitherto been purchased by the naval authorities; and he, after investigation at Kingston and the Rio Cobre, decided on Rock Fort, Vernon’s old spot, at =Harbour Head= as a source of supply. The sailors, when they found themselves spared the task of rolling heavy water casks long distances in the hot sun, said “God bless the Admiral,” but when they realized that improved methods of watering meant shorter leave on shore, they changed their tune and said, “The devil take the Admiral.”

Till about the year 1902, when pipes were laid along the Palisadoes to Port Royal, that town had its water conveyed to it, from Rodney’s source at Rock Fort, in a sailing ship fitted for the purpose.

Rodney, in order to get timely notice of the approach of foreign ships, had a look-out erected on the top of the Healthshire Hills on the opposite side of the harbour from Port Royal; and on the site of =Rodney’s Look-out= there is still a mark for navigation.

It is quite likely that during the voyage which Nelson made to the West Indies in 1771–72 in a merchant ship he visited Jamaica, as the ship belonged to a Jamaica firm; but no such visit has been recorded.

On September 19, 1771, Rodney wrote from Port Royal:

Since my letter to their Lordships [of the Admiralty] of the 4th instant, giving their Lordships an account of the violent earthquake which happened the day before, which has been attended with frequent shocks till within these few days and, in the opinion of the inhabitants, done more damage than any since the great one in 1692,

## particularly in the towns of Port Royal and Kingston, in the former of

which there is not a single house that has not been damaged, I find His Majesty’s dockyard has suffered considerably. The pitch-house is split up the middle of the arch, the chimney thrown down, the coppers and chimney where the people cook while at the wharf are rendered useless; the smith’s shop split in several places, and so shaken as to be quite unserviceable. The foundations of the capstern and mast-houses have likewise received much damage.

His Majesty’s hospital at Port Royal seems to have suffered more than any other building, the chimneys shaken down, the walls shattered; the

## partition walls and gable end of the northern wing, and a southern

wall next the dispensary greatly damaged.

As the sick men were very much alarmed, and really in danger, I found it necessary to order the surgeon and agent to repair it with all possible despatch. There have been nine shocks since the first, but as each has appeared weaker, I hope we shall experience no more of them.

The most brilliant period of Port Royal’s glory was perhaps the command of Sir Peter Parker, from 1778–1782.

Of all the forts which have been erected from time to time round the coast of Jamaica for its protection the oldest, and most important from an historic standpoint, is undoubtedly =Fort Charles= at Port Royal. It was not the first fort built at The Point, for Sedgwick writing home in November 1655, to the Commissioners of the Admiralty, said, “Are building a fort at the harbour’s mouth, and 9 or 10 guns are mounted.”

[Illustration:

Nelson’s Quarter-deck ]

The construction of Fort Charles, named after Charles II, was commenced in the reign of that monarch. When originally built it was washed by the sea on two sides. In course of time Chocalatta Hole became silted up, and is now the parade-ground. It is thus referred to in a “Journal Kept by Colonel William Beeston from his first coming to Jamaica,” in connection with a fear that the Spaniards, enraged by the loss of St. Jago de Cuba, might meditate revenge, and make some attempt on the island:

“Therefore what money was due to the King was called in, and in November [1662] about forty men hired to work on the fort, which is now called Fort Charles, with intent to finish it, which hitherto lay open, with only a round tour of stone and banks of board and sand towards the sea....”

And on May 29, 1678, he writes: “Being the King’s birthday, and all the flags abroad upon all the forts, the great flag of Fort Charles blew down, which we doubted was ominous, being so noted a day and on the most noted Fort....”

The fort was “not shook down, but much shattered” by the earthquake of 1692. It was subsequently reconstructed in 1699 by Colonel Christian Lilley, who had laid out the city of Kingston four years earlier, and who in 1734 was captain of the fort.

From the earliest times the members of the House of Assembly were admitted to view the forts and fortifications, and a joint committee of the Assembly and Council used to report annually on Fort Charles.

Long, writing in 1774, says: “The Captain of the fort [Fort Charles] has of late years been appointed by the Governor’s warrant, upon the nomination of his Ministry. His salary is only £109 10_s._ per annum, but the profits of this post make it far more considerable.”

In June 1779, war was declared with Spain, and on the 11th of that month Nelson was promoted to the command of the _Hinchinbrook_, thus becoming a post-captain while yet four months under twenty-one years of age. The ship was then at sea, and had not returned by July 28, when Nelson wrote from Port Royal to his friend Captain Locker, and she apparently did not return till September 1. During this period Nelson was in command of the batteries at Port Charles, as he twice mentions in his published correspondence—once when writing under date August 12, 1779, to Locker, and once in the “Sketch of My Life,” written twenty years later. At this time Jamaica was, to use Nelson’s own words, “turned upside down” by fear of capture of a French fleet. In his own letter to Locker he says, speaking of the measures of defence taken:

Five thousand men were encamped between the Ferry and Kingston, 1000 at Fort Augusta, 300 at the Apostles’ Battery, and we expect to have 500 in Fort Charles, where I am to command. _Lion_, _Salisbury_, _Charon_, and _Janus_ in a line from the Point to the outer shoal; _Ruby_ and _Bristol_ in the narrows going to Kingston, to rake any ships that may attack Fort Augusta; _Pomona_ and _Speke_ Indiaman above Rock Fort, and _Lowestoffe_ at the end of the dock wall.... I have fairly stated our situation, and I leave you in England to judge what stand we shall make; I think you must not be surprised to hear of my learning to speak French.

In his sketch of his life, Nelson tells us:

In this critical state [_i.e._ fear of invasion] I was by both Admiral and General entrusted with the command of the Batteries at Port Royal, and I need not say, as the defence of this place was the key to the port of the whole naval force, the town of Kingston, and Spanish Town, it was the most important place in the whole island.

The admiral was Sir Peter Parker, Nelson’s lifelong friend and patron; the general was the Governor, Dalling.

This was Nelson’s first actual command after he was posted, though it lasted probably but three or four weeks, and gave him no opportunity of showing what he could do in that capacity.

Nelson’s reputation still survives in Port Charles itself, and there still exists his wooden “quarter-deck” from which he could, while pacing up and down, command a view to windward.

There is also an inscription to his memory in gilt letters on a white marble tablet fixed into the brickwork of the west wall of Port Charles. In size the tablet is 2½ feet by 1½ feet, and the following is a copy of the inscription:

IN THIS PLACE DWELT HORATIO NELSON.

You who tread his footprints Remember his glory.

Nelson’s memory was kept green in Jamaica for many years. Monk Lewis saw, at Black River, at New Year, 1816, a “Nelson’s Car” with “Trafalgar” written on it, which formed part of the procession of Blue Girls in the John Canoe festivities. But there is no monument to the great hero in Jamaica as there is at Barbados; and yet the larger island owes just as much to Nelson as does the smaller.

[Illustration:

KINGSTON HARBOUR IN 1774

From an engraving in Long’s “History of Jamaica” ]

[Illustration:

Figure-head of the Aboukir ]

The following, amongst others, commanded at Fort Charles: Major Man (1661–64), Major Byndloss (1664–65), Sir James Modyford (1667), Col. Theodore Cary (1675), Col. Charles Morgan (1682), Col. Molesworth (1683), Col. James O’Brien (1691–92), Peter Beckford (1692), Col. Knight (1703), Major Howard (1713), Col. Joseph Delawnay (1715), Gabriel, Marquis Duquesne (1723–25), Captain Dalrymple (1730–33), Col. Christian Lilly (1733–35), Captain Charles Knowles (1734), Col. Philips (1737), Captain Newton (1742), Captain Hamilton (1743), Lieut.-Col. Spragge (1753), Captain Trower (1762), Exelbee Lawford (1776), John Dalling (1776–77), Horatio Nelson (1777), Edward FitzGerald (1777–79), Montgomery Mathan (1779–80), Hans Carsden (1780).

A portrait bust in wood, which formed the figurehead of the _Aboukir_, port guardship from 1862 to 1877, and now rests in the dockyard (alongside the figureheads of the _Imaum_, the port guardship from 1856 to 1862; the _Argent_, the port guardship from 1877 to 1903, and the _Megaera_, wrecked on Bare Bush Cay in 1843), was until quite lately thought to represent Nelson; but recent investigation has tended to prove that it is a portrait of the celebrated general Sir Ralph Abercromby, who received his death wound in the hour of victory at the battle of Alexandria, on August 1, 1801 (when he was conveyed to Nelson’s old flagship, the _Foudroyant_): the blind eye of the _soi-disant_ Nelson has been removed, and the figure painted to represent Abercromby. If this be the true version, one rather wonders what wag had the audacity to transform it into a Nelson.

After a cruise of a few months in his ship, the _Hinchinbrook_, Nelson wrote to Locker from Port Royal on January 23, 1780, “Our mess is broken up. Captain Cornwallis and myself live together.... I have been twice given over since you left this country with that cursed disorder, the gout.” Early in 1780, Nelson went on that ill-fated expedition to Nicaragua, originated by Dalling, the governor, in which Dr. Dancer, the island botanist, and the unfortunate Colonel Despard took part.

This expedition, while it laid the foundation of his subsequent fame, nearly cost Nelson his life. On his return to Port Royal he was suffering so much from fever and dysentery that he had to be carried ashore in his cot to the lodging-house of his former black nurse, Couba Cornwallis, a favourite nurse with naval officers. From Couba’s hands Nelson passed under the care of Sir Peter and Lady Parker, who first nursed him at Admiral’s Pen, and afterwards sent him to Admiral’s Mountain[4] (as the Admiral’s hill residence was named) to recuperate; but there he missed their kind attention, and wished himself back with Couba. While at Jamaica Nelson made many friends—in addition to his naval companions, Parker, Prince William, Locker and Collingwood—such as Simon Taylor, a wealthy sugar planter and Hercules Ross, the Navy agent, to whose son Horatio, afterwards a celebrated sportsman, Nelson stood godfather. A portrait of Charles II (said to have been painted in 1679 and to have been in the possession of Bishop Falconer), presented by Hercules Ross, for many years hung in the Royal Artillery and Royal Engineers’ mess at Fort Charles, and now adorns the former residence of the commodores, now used as the mess room.

Footnote 4:

This was probably in the Red Hills, but has never been identified. It was possibly Mount Salus.

Towards the close of Parker’s service at Jamaica, Rodney gained his celebrated victory over the brave De Grasse off Dominica, on April 12, 1782. De Grasse after fighting hard all day till only himself and two men remained unwounded, at the setting of the sun and the arrival of the _Barfleur_ fresh to the fray, lowered with his own hands his flag on his ship the _Ville de Paris_, the gay Lutetia’s present to Louis XV, and thus completed the British victory which had commenced the moment that Rodney’s flagship the _Formidable_ had broken the French line.

On April 24, news reached Jamaica from St. Lucia, that both French and English fleets had sailed. The worst was feared, and the suspense was intense; but on the morrow arrived the joyful news from Rodney that Jamaica was saved from invasion.

On the morning of Monday, April 29, Rodney’s fleet with nine prizes was seen approaching, and though it was evident that it would be near sunset before the ships could be moored we can imagine that that would not have restrained many from starting off from Kingston to Port Royal to witness the triumphal entry.

Those, however, who remained behind and lined every vantage spot of view and every housetop, witnessed a goodly sight, for a long line of tall ships, on the tallest of which flew the lilies of France with the Red Cross of St. George of England surmounting it, followed by ship after ship each bearing similar signs of subjugation, and attended by a brave show of their captors, swept in slow but stately array past the Palisadoes with the last of the sea breeze, and rounding the point brought up in good order, their enormous wooden anchor stocks causing such a splash as they fell from their bows as to be visible by help of a good glass from Kingston Church tower.

The _Ville de Paris_, was, it is said, the first first-rate man-of-war ever taken and carried into port by any commander of any nation. A painting by Pine, of Rodney in action aboard the _Formidable_, attended by his principal officers, is, with a volume of charts taken from De Grasse’s cabin, and a series of prints illustrating the engagement, in the Institute of Jamaica. The prizes were sent home under convoy, which was of course a special one. In those days the planters, merchants and others interested were wont to meet and settle the rates of freight to be paid by the fleet of merchantmen which went home four times a year, under the convoy of a man-of-war. In war time the rates were nearly three times as high as in peace. The merchantmen were then wont to assemble at Bluefields in order to await their convoy for England.

The _Ville de Paris_ and the other prizes encountered a hurricane on their way to England on September 16; and being hove to on the wrong tack, and perhaps overladen with the captured battering train and other stores, besides being weakened by the heavy fire to which they had been exposed, they with the exception of the _Ardent_ foundered with 1200 men; several ships of the convoy also sank.

A series of four aquatints by Robert Dodd, published in 1783, illustrates the fate of this convoy with special reference to the _Lady Juliana_.

It is worthy of record that two sons of Flora Macdonald went down in the late flagship of the Comte De Grasse.

In this connection the following extract from the Minutes of a Meeting of the West India Merchants—now the West India Committee—held on January 29, 1782, Mr. Long presiding, may be of interest:

The following letter from the Chairman, and Deputy Chairman, to Mr. Stephens, was read.

SIR,—We take the Liberty of desiring you to submit to the Lords of the Admiralty, to recommend to their Commander in Chief, the request we made at the Board some time ago, of having _early and frequent_ Convoys home, both from Jamaica and the Leeward Islands, instead of the Ships being sent home in such large and delayed Fleets, which in the present Situation of Affairs, is found to be attended with great Inconveniences, and very severe losses, besides, a greater Object of Attention to the Enemy.—Early Convoys are particularly desirable, from the Produce being extremely wanted, on account of its scarcity, and coming home in a favourable season for safe Passages, the Strength of the Convoys may be regulated by the number of the Trade in each.

We decline naming the Times of the Appointment of the Convoys (as has been usually done) in order to prevent their expected arrival in Europe being known to our Enemies.

We are, etc.,

10th January, 1782. (Signed) BEESTON LONG. RICHD. NEAVE.

From 1796 to 1800, Sir Hyde Parker was commander-in-chief of Jamaica, and the cruising ships as stationed by him were exceptionally fortunate, and brought into Port Royal a great many prizes, merchantmen, privateers and ships of war, “by which both himself and his country were materially benefited.”

From October 1782 to July 1783, Nelson was cruising under Hood in West Indian waters, and more than once put into Port Royal.

In 1783, William IV, as a midshipman on the celebrated _Barfleur_, came into Port Royal, the first prince of the blood royal of England to put foot on Jamaica’s shore. He then made the acquaintance of Couba Cornwallis, the _chère amie_ of the admiral of that name and the kindly nurse of Nelson, who lived till 1848.

Lady Nugent in her voluminous Journal, does not make much reference to Port Royal. On their arrival in July 1801, she records:

It is now seven o’clock in the evening and we have only just anchored in Port Royal Harbour. An express is just sent off to the Governor at Spanish Town. Colonel Ramsay of the Artillery, and Captain Coates of the 69th Regiment, with a Navy officer from Lord Hugh Seymour, came on board immediately. I am disappointed. I hoped to have landed instantly, but there is so much etiquette about it, that it is settled we are not to stir till to-morrow morning.

29th [July]. General N. landed at six o’clock under salutes from the forts and all the ships of war in the harbour. The _Ambuscade_ fired on his leaving the deck, and I lay down to my cot, with a pillow over my ears, the noise was so stunning.

All this is in marked contrast to the simpler landing of a governor in these days—even on his first arrival.

In March 1804, Lady Nugent records:

Dress by candle-light, and our whole party proceeded to Port Royal where the Admiral gave us a grand breakfast on board the _Hercules_.... The _lion_ for the morning for the gentlemen was a large cannon, taken from the French, but I own it did not interest me much.

This was probably one of those cannons which were removed to the present King’s House on the shutting up of the dockyard.

In 1806, Port Royal saw the victorious Duckworth bring in three French ships taken off Santo Domingo after what was called, before the days of Togo, “one of the completest victories on record.”

In the memorable year 1805, Dacres was commander-in-chief of Jamaica, and he detained at Port Royal for the protection of the island four of the six ships (of Cochrane’s squadron), which had come out in chase of Missiessy, and Nelson had hoped would reach him at Barbados, when he sailed in pursuit of the French fleet under Villeneuve, immediately before Trafalgar.

With Trafalgar, Port Royal’s chief importance as a naval station may be said to have ended. Nothing of great moment, except the almost complete destruction of the town by fire in 1815, occurred afterwards, although Jamaica remained as a separate station for some twenty years more.

Monk Lewis writes in February 1816:

The Jamaica canoes are hollowed cotton-trees. We embarked in one of them at six in the morning, and visited the ruins of Port Royal, which, last year, was destroyed by fire: some of the houses were rebuilding; but it was a melancholy sight, not only from the look of the half-burnt buildings, but the dejected countenances of the ruined inhabitants.

Bleby records in his “Scenes in the Caribbean Sea” (1854) having seen as he entered the harbour in 1831, several slavers captured by British cruisers and sent in here to be condemned and broken up.

In “The Wanderings of a Marine,” a series of letters to a friend comprising descriptive sketches at sea and on shore, at home and abroad, written in 1831—a manuscript volume in the West India Library of the Institute of Jamaica, we read: