I Port Royal
The chief interest of Port Royal lies rather in the silent witness which through two and a half centuries she has borne to the naval activities of the island of Jamaica, and in a measure to those of the British fleets which have from time to time visited these waters, than in any part which she has played in the internal domestic development of the colony, although she has now and again sent to the Assembly such notable members as William Beeston, Samuel Long, Marmaduke Freeman, Peter Beckford, Matthew Concanen, Roger Hope Elletson and Samuel Jackson Dallas. The three last, however, were connected, not with “the Point,” but with that portion of the old parish of Port Royal which now forms part of St. Andrew and is known to-day as the Port Royal Mountains.
In these days of pageants, Port Royal would fittingly make either background or proscenium to many a stirring episode illustrative of the island’s history.
Though Jamaica since its occupation by the English has escaped the capture and recapture which was the fate of many of the smaller West Indian islands which are now British, and its forts have never had to face besieging ships, the vessels sent out from its harbour from that date till the early years of the last century played no insignificant part in the sum total of Britannia’s naval history; and Port Royal was a toll-gate on Britain’s path of Admiralty at which many heavy tolls were paid.
From the Swiftsure, Admiral Penn’s flagship in the expedition which gained the island for England, to the Suffolk and Sydney, many of the finest ships in the British Navy have sailed or steamed past Port Royal’s shores; and the flags of not a few of England’s most celebrated seamen have waved near its walls—Myngs, Morgan (who was buried there), Nevell, Benbow (who died there), Vernon, Hosier, Ogle, Keppel, Rodney, Peter Parker, Nelson, Joshua Rowley, McClintock, and lastly Admiral Lloyd.
Columbus, who was intimately acquainted with the north side of Jamaica, probably only saw Port Royal from the Niña’s deck as he, after discovering the island on his second voyage, in 1494, beat slowly homeward along the south side, after having exchanged courtesies with the caciques in Old Harbour bay, putting in here and there for shelter from the contrary wind.
During the Spanish occupation the Point remained unoccupied and the harbour of Kingston was disregarded till 1520, when the Spaniards removed their northside capital to St. Jago de la Vega.
In January 1596–97, the inhabitants of Port Royal, had there been any, would have seen that adventurous soldier of fortune, Sir Anthony Shirley, sail up the harbour, whence he plundered the island and burnt St. Jago; in March 1643, the buccaneering hero Captain William Jackson, with his marauding company of three ships sent out from England by the Earl of Warwick, recruited at Barbados and St. Kitts, again insulted the powerless or supine Spaniards, passing Port Royal, which was then an island; and in May 1655, the inhabitants fell an easy prey to a ragamuffin army of 8000 troops contained in thirty-eight ships under Penn and Venables, who tried to atone thereby for their ineffectual attempt on Hispaniola. This was probably the largest fleet which up to that moment had entered Kingston harbour.
The English conquerors soon saw the strategic advantage of Cagua (which they corrupted into Cagway), or the Point, as they called it, as a protection to the harbour and the capital at St. Jago de la Vega.
The earliest act of this motley crew, when they tired of killing the cattle which the Spaniards had been at great pains to breed on the sea-washed savannahs on the south side, was to erect a fort at Cagway under Sedgwick in March 1656. At the Restoration it not unnaturally received the name of Fort Charles, and the collection of houses that grew up around it was called Port Royal, at the dictates of loyalty or sycophancy, according to the political creed of the members of the new colony. But the governor and council had often great difficulty in persuading the Assembly to vote the funds necessary for its upkeep and improvement. A writer during Sir Charles Lyttelton’s governorship, 1662–1664, says it was called Port Royal from the excellency of the harbour; but it was apparently not till February 1674 that that became its official name, when the Assembly voted “Point Conway (an obvious misprint for Cagway) to be called Port Royal.” In addition to Fort Charles there were three other principal forts called James, Carlisle and Rupert.
For a time Port Royal was the residence of the Lieutenant-Governor, while the Governor’s official residence was at Spanish Town. In November 1661, it was ordered “that no person remain on Point Cagua without giving security to a Justice of the Peace not to be chargeable to the inhabitants for more than one month. Any waterman bringing a person likely to be chargeable to pay a piece of eight and carry him back again.” In 1664 the Assembly desired and advised the Council that the Court of Common Pleas should be held constantly “in St. Jago de la Vego and no more at Port Royal,” and the Council agreed. In March 1674–5 Peter Beckford wrote home:
Lord Vaughan arrived on the 13th inst. at night and landed at Port Royal; next day his commission was read, and he was entertained as well as the island could afford; 15th, he remained on Port Royal, viewing the fortifications; came next day to St. Jago, being received at the seaside [at Passage Fort, probably] by 150 horse and a company of foot, besides the gentlemen of the country and seven coaches, all which attended him to the town, where he was received with two companies of foot, and dined with Sir Thos. Modyford.
By 1675, residence by the Governor at Port Royal had gone out of favour. In that year was passed a resolution to the effect that—the “Captain-General’s salary to be £2000 per annum, residing usually at St. Jago, his residence at Port Royal to be omitted.”
In 1680, the custos of Port Royal was Sir Henry Morgan, J.P. The judges of court of common pleas were William Beeston, Reginald Wilson and Anthony Swimmer. The justices of the peace were, besides the judges, John White, Theodore Cary, Prichard Herne and Harbottle Wingfield.
Sir Thomas Lynch wrote, in 1682, to the Bishop of London, of Beeston: “You may be disposed to credit him as Dr. Beeston’s brother, and a very ingenious man, to whose skill and zeal we owe the building of our church at Port Royal, the handsomest in America....” This church, called Christchurch, perished in the earthquake. The present building, erected in 1725–26, contains monuments to many of those who succumbed to yellow fever. Its most notable monument is that to Lieutenant Stapleton (d. 1754) by Roubiliac. Of the rest the most interesting is that to Captain de Crespigny (d. 1825), who had served under St. Vincent, Nelson and Collingwood, and during his career saved no less than sixteen lives. The carved organ loft was erected in 1743.
In the Council minutes for June 1685, occurs the valuation of two parcels of land taken for the public use. One “contiguous to the breast work” (probably identical with the “Redoute” in Lilly’s plan) was valued at £125.
As early as 1661 there were in Fort Charles “some as good cannon planted as the Tower of London would afford,” but it was not ever thus. The fort was “not shook down, but much shattered” by the earthquake of 1692. Seven or eight years later it was reconstructed by Colonel Christian Lilly, an engineer officer of considerable ability, who had laid out the town of Kingston in 1694, and who, in 1734, was captain of the fort. He was probably the author of “An Account of Commodore Wilmot’s Expedition to Hispaniola” of the year 1696, in which occurs a very caustic description of the “small fort” at Port Royal, which he regarded as
Of little significance in case of an attack. It is something like a square redoubt of forty or fifty paces to a side with two small bastions towards the town, but nothing towards the sea but a small semi-circular advance in the middle of that side, capable of containing three or four pieces of cannon. The walls are built after the ancient way of fortifications and are not cannon-proof. The embrasures are arched over, and so large as to be more like gates for the enemy to enter at than port-holes. There is not so much as a trench or palisade round it, and I believe not six pieces of cannon that can bear at one time upon a ship when opposite to it. Outside this fort, when I was there, there was a long line of cannon; but so extremely exposed to the enemy’s fire that it would be hard matter for any one to use them in case of an attack, and they are of no use at all in case an enemy gets into the harbour, for they can then be taken in reverse. This is the chief artificial fortification of Port Royal, and the natural fortification is not much except that it is now an island, for the town is all open to the harbour and partly to the sea. In my opinion, therefore, there would be no difficulty for a small fleet to master it, and less risk than in encountering two stout men-of-war, were it not for our own ships in the harbour, as I can explain if required. This place, being the bulwark and gate to the conquest of the island, should be better secured. The side of the fort towards the sea, already falling down, should be rebuilt in some figure better suited for its defence, and the whole should be surrounded by a good deep ditch and a row or two of strong palisades. The embrasures should be lessened to two feet at most to protect the gunners at their guns. The battery on the east side should be made defencible and cannon-proof. The plot of land to north-west of the fort should be taken into a horn-work and fitted for several guns, to defend it against attack in reverse. To eastward of the town a work should be thrown up to cover it against the isthmus, and to guard against surprise by boats on that side. These fortifications could also be built of earth and wood; which would save much expense and would suffice if they lasted to the end of the war.
This account tallies with a description of Port Royal, dated October 25, 1699, signed by Lilly himself.
Sir William Beeston, writing to the Council of Trade and Plantations in February 1700, said—with all the self-sufficiency of one in authority:
The storehouses are finished and of great use, and so is Fort Charles with all the advantage the ground will afford. Captain Lilly would have had it built in another figure, but that was more to show his desire it might be done by his directions than of any use, for, as he proposed, there would have been much less room, and the spurs were not capacious enough to contain any guns. I had the approbation of all people in the figure I proposed, and it’s not only very useful but very beautiful also. The next public work we go about is to lay a line of thirty or forty guns in good stone work to the eastward of Fort Charles, which guns will be right up the channel where all ships come in, and make the place not easy to be attempted by sea.
From the earliest times the members of the House of Assembly, ever ready to insist on their rights, were admitted to view the forts and fortifications, and a joint committee of the Assembly and Council used to report annually on Fort Charles. After pointing out various defects for thirty or forty years, the committee in 1736 got angry, and complained “that the present state and condition of the fortifications in Port Royal, which is very defenceless, require the immediate consideration of the Legislature, as they are the strength and security of the island,” and that “little or no notice had been taken to remedy the grievances complained of.”
Towards the close of the eighteenth century there were thirty forts and batteries in the island. At present there are but three worthy of the name—Fort Nugent at Harbour Head, Fort Clarence, opposite Port Royal, and Rocky Point, on the Palisadoes.
As the island became more settled under the British colonists, vessels which had at first been equipped for home defence began to assume the position of private men-of-war, or privateers, and to bring into Port Royal, sometimes with the warrant of the governor, sometimes without, spoils from the Spaniards. When it suited the home programme the local Governor was praised for zeal in Imperial service. When the complaints of the Spanish court became too insistent, he was made a scapegoat and recalled. But the habit of plundering the hated Spaniard had got into the blood of men who were ill-fitted to lead a sedentary life, and the steps from authorized privateersmen, first to unauthorized buccaneer, and then to pirate and murderer, were easy. And no close scrutiny was placed upon the origin of the wealth poured into Port Royal, which its owners squandered in drinking and gaming as quickly as they had gained it. Port Royal was then the centre of much debauchery.
Modyford, the governor, wrote home, “The Spaniards wondered much at the sickness of our people, until they knew of the strength of their drinks, but then they wondered more that they were not all dead.” The buccaneers, another writer tells us, “have been known to spend 2000 or 3000 pieces of eight in one night.”
The memory of the wild deeds done by those who put off from Port Royal’s shore is kept alive in the name of Gallows Point, where many notorious pirates were, when condemned, hung up, and where the last of those executions, of which one is graphically described by Michael Scott in “Tom Cringle’s Log,” took place in 1831. Rackham, another pirate, was executed on the cay which still bears his name.
The following interesting account of Port Royal is given, in Francis Hanson’s account of Jamaica, written in 1682, appended to the first printed edition of the “Laws of Jamaica”:
The Town of Port Royal, being as it were the Store House or Treasury of the West Indies, is always like a continual Mart or Fair, where all sorts of choice Merchandizes are daily imported, not only to furnish the Island, but vast quantities are thence again transported to supply the Spaniards, Indians, and other Nations, who in exchange return us bars and cakes of Gold, wedges and pigs of Silver, Pistoles, Pieces of Eight and several other Coyns of both Mettles, with store of wrought Plate, Jewels, rich Pearl Necklaces, and of Pearl unsorted or undrill’d several Bushels; besides which, we are furnished with the purest and most fine sorts of Dust Gold from Guiney, by the Negroe Ships, who first come to Jamaica to deliver their Blacks, and there usually refit and stay to reload three or four Months; in which time (though the Companies Gold may be partly sent home) yet the Merchants, Masters of Ships, and almost every Mariner (having private Cargoes) take occasion to sell or exchange great quantities; some of which our Goldsmiths there work up, who being yet but few grow very wealthy, for almost every House hath a rich Cupboard of Plate, which they carelessly expose, scarce shutting their doors in the night, being in no apprehension of Thieves for want of receivers as aforesaid. And whereas most other Plantations ever did and now do keep their accounts in Sugar, or the proper Commodities of the place, for want of Money, it is otherwise in Jamaica, for in Port-Royal there is more plenty of running Cash (proportionably to the number of its inhabitants) than is in London....
One of the earliest to bring lustre to the crown of Port Royal was Admiral Myngs, by his capture in 1662 of St. Jago de Cuba, and other naval exploits.
Then came Sir Henry Morgan, the conqueror of Panama, whose deeds of undoubted valour were smirched by cowardly conduct towards priests and defenceless women. In later life he turned respectable, even to the extent of persecuting his former comrades, when he acted as lieutenant-governor. But the old spirit died hard, and we are not surprised when we read that the governor, Lord Vaughan, complained that Morgan made himself “so cheap at the port drinking and gaming at the taverns” that he intended to remove thither himself, from Spanish Town, for the credit of the island. In justice to Morgan’s memory it may be said that some historians hold that Oexmelin’s account of the buccaneers is a libel on Morgan, and that he was not nearly so black as he has been painted: and when we find his methods of warfare, and worse, adopted by a nation that has hitherto claimed to be in the forefront of civilization we are tempted to forgive Morgan much. As admiral of the Jamaica fleet, Morgan at the time commanded twenty-eight English-built ships and eight taken from the French—thirty-six in all, with a tonnage of 1585, the size of a small passenger steamer of to-day.
The Council was sitting at Port Royal on June 7, 1692, when by the ever memorable earthquake of that day many important colonists lost their lives. Houses, said to have been as good as many in the city of London, were destroyed; and the part of the town bordering on the sea entirely disappeared, owing to insecure foundations. A century later remains of these houses were still visible. Lewis Galdy, a French immigrant, was swallowed and cast up again, and lived many years. He will be referred to in the chapter on St. Catherine. The mace brought out by Lord Windsor in 1662 (erroneously supposed to have been the bauble which Cromwell ordered out of the House of Commons), was damaged at the time of the earthquake, and repaired after it; but it has since disappeared. The two maces in the Institute of Jamaica are of later date.
The principal authorities usually quoted on the earthquake of 1692 are Sir Hans Sloane’s account in the “Philosophical Transactions”; the description given by Long, in his History of Jamaica; and a letter by the rector of the parish which appeared in the “Gentleman’s Magazine” for 1750, and was reprinted by Bridges—all of which information was epitomized by Gardner in his history.
In addition to these is available a broadside in the British Museum, a copy of which is in the Institute of Jamaica. The key and letter which form part of the broadside appeared in the “Journal of the Institute of Jamaica,” in 1892.
The following accounts of the earthquake have also been printed in the “Journal of the Institute of Jamaica”:
(1) Sir Hans Sloane’s account consisting of (a) “An account... which I wrote myself being present in it.” (b) “Extract from a letter from one in Jamaica who was in the terrible earthquake.” (c) “Extract of a letter... giving an account of the sickness that followed the earthquake.” (d) “Part of a letter... giving a further account from another hand.” (e) “Part of another from the same hand.” (f) “Part of a letter from a gentleman in Jamaica... not being present in the earthquake... very curious.” (2) Notes by Mr. Maxwell Hall on an article by Colonel A. B. Ellis in “Popular Science Monthly” for 1892. (3) “A full account of the late dreadful earthquake at Port Royal in Jamaica written in two letters from the minister of the place [Dr. Heath],” which is copied incompletely and incorrectly by Bridges. (4) An account by Mrs. Akers of Nevis, printed in a “Natural History of Nevis... by the Rev. Mr. Smith... 1745.” (5) “The Truest and Largest account of the earthquake in Jamaica... written by a Reverend Divine there to his friend in London... 1693,” a copy of which is in the West India Library in the Institute. The letter is dated “Withy Wood in the parish of Vere,” and it is possible that the “Reverend Divine” was Thomas Hardwicke, who was appointed Rector of Vere by the Earl of Carlisle. (6) “A letter to a friend from Jamaica, Spanish Town, the 29th of June, 1692,” by John Pike, printed in a pamphlet, a copy of which is in the British Museum.
There were also two letters dated from Port Royal on June 20 and June 28, 1692, given in “Earthquakes explained and Practically Improved... by Thomas Doolittle, M.A., Jamaica’s Miseries show London Mercies... London, 1693.”
In addition to all these there is a letter sent home by the Council to the Lords of Plantations, which is given in an abbreviated form in the “Calendar of State Papers (Colonial Series)—America and West Indies—1689–1692.” The following is copied in extenso from the manuscript Council minutes in the Colonial Secretary’s office, Jamaica, a manuscript copy of which is in the Library of the Institute:
A letter from the President and Council of Jamaica to Lords of Trade and Plantations of the date June 20 from on board the Richard and Sarah, Jamaica. May it please Your Lordships on the seventh instant it pleased God to afflict this whole island with an earthquake, the dreadfullness whereof will sensibly enough appear in acquainting Your Lordships that in the space of two minutes [the “Calendar of State Papers” has ten] all the churches, the dwelling houses and sugar works of the whole island were thrown down: two-thirds of Port Royal swallowed up by sea, all its forts and fortifications demolished and a great part of its inhabitants miserably either knockt o’th head or drowned. As we are become by this an instance of God Almighty’s severe judgment, so we hope we shall be of Your Lordships compassion. We have in the midst of this confusion applied ourselves with all vigour to the restoring of things. We have taken into Their Majesties’ service the Richard and Sarah, a merchantship, where though to a great loss in the neglect of our own private affairs, we sit de die in diem in Council; protecting the merchants in their fishing on the ruins of their own houses; preventing robbery and stealing amongst the ruins; deciding controversies and punishing quarrels too frequently arising from the uncertain right of things. In sinking floating carcasses, taking care of the sick and wounded; lastly, in feeding and sustaining the necessitous which must now be done out of the Country stock, all kinde of stores being lost in the ruin of Port Royall. We have sett the masters of ships to the sounding a channell leading further up into this harbour, where we are like to have a scituation equal to Port Royall in everything and exceeding it in its being capable of relieving the country or being on any invasion relieved by it. This may it please Your Lordships we doe in all humble confidence hoping Your Lordships will consider us as we are all open and exposed to the attempts of enemyes by sea as well as by land. At land at this instant we are contending against a party of French who have been for some time ravageing the north side of the island, and though we have sent a proportionable force against them both by sea and land, yet by reason of the violent rains and earthquakes at land and blowing weather at sea it has not pleased God as yet to make us able to give much account of them as we still hope to doe. Among other accidents of the earthquake, their Majesties ship the Swan, which was lying at the wharves for careening, was suckt among the houses of Port Royall, has lost her guns, rigging, cables, and anchors, and her keel damaged, and is on survey cast, and we must inform Your Lordships that could repeated persuasions or even threats have prevailed on Captain Nevill to any degree of diligence, the Swan had either been out of harbour or rid out of danger. Many of the guns of the fortifications are two fathoms under water, and are in danger of being lost. The small arms of the country are generally broke by the fall of the houses, which gives us apprehensions from the slaves. This being the true state of our condition we must humbly beseech Your Lordships effectually to intercede with their most gracious Majesties that we may have a proportionable reliefe in time, and in all humility we think till we shall be able to fortify it cannot be less than three fifth Rates with one or two good fourth Rates for a battery, together with four or five hundred land soldiers and all sorts of arms and ammunition (great shot excepted), and that Your Lordships would procure us such a Governor whose generous care and charity may be equall to the needs of this distressed place, and we humbly take leave to inform Your Lordships that a tollerable choice may be made from amongst ourselves till, by the blessing of God and the just and equal administration of the Government, it may again grow to be fitt reward for greater persons. We humbly beg that this advice sloop may be speedily returned and the master and men protected. All which is humbly submitted. We are, may it please your honours, Your Lordships most humble servants, John White, P.C., John Bourden, Peter Heywood, Samuell Bernard, John Towers, Nicholas Laws, Francis Blackmore, Charles Knight, Thomas Sutton.
Postscript—Since the foregoing their Majesties’ ship Guernsey with the sloop which we sent out against the French that had landed on the north side of this island are come into port and have had good success, having burnt the enemy’s ship and taken and destroyed all the men both by land and sea, except eighteen which escaped in a sloop.
In all humility we are your Lordships most humble and obedient servants.
Jamaica. From on board the Richard and Sarah, June the 20th, 1692.
The old bell in the Institute of Jamaica, is said to have been sunk originally by the great earthquake, and to have been recovered during some dredging operations off Port Royal. Tradition said that it was given to the old Spanish church at Port Royal, by a convent in Spain, but this is obviously incorrect as the Spaniards had no church, or in fact, any building at the Point. It is, of course, possible that the early English settlers took it from the ruins of some Spanish Town church, for use in the church they built at the Point, or it may have been taken to Port Royal at a later date. In any case it is curious that the only Spanish bell known in Jamaica should have been discovered at Port Royal and not at Spanish Town or at St. Ann’s Bay, where the first Spanish settlement stood.
Either in the ordinary course of events by the continual beating of the clapper, or through a flaw in the metal, or through its fall at the time of the earthquake or at some other time, the bell was cracked; but after its recovery the crack was stayed by a drill hole, and the bell is said to have been hung in the new church which had been built at Port Royal in 1725.
In 1855, as the crack had extended in two directions and rendered the bell useless, the “whitewash and plaster” churchwardens of the day sold it for old metal. During the administration of Sir John Peter Grant it was pointed out to the Government that it was lying in an old curiosity shop in Kingston, in imminent danger of being melted down; and it was purchased by the Government and deposited at the Ordnance Wharf, whence it found its way to the Institute of Jamaica. It is 2 feet 1¾ inch in height and 6 feet 7 inches in circumference at the base. Round the edge runs the following inscription:
Ihesv Maria et Verbum Caro Factum Est et Abita.
In the Vulgate, the 14th verse of the 1st chapter of St. John’s Epistle commences thus: “Et Verbum caro factum est, et habitavit in nobis.”
The bell also bears a cross made of a series of stars, and two small designs in relief placed in duplicate on opposite sides, representing the one the Virgin and Child, and the other, a saint, probably St. George or St. Michael.
The bell, in the opinion of an expert to whom a photograph was sent, is certainly Spanish; the cross and letter are from fifteenth-century moulds, but the small designs are later, probably sixteenth century. In casting, old moulds were frequently used. The cross is decidedly Spanish.
In September 1692, the Council wrote home, “Port Royal which was our chief stay and where we could muster two thousand effective men is, since the earthquake, reduced to about two hundred men.”
The old plan of Port Royal which was reproduced on page 442 of the “West India Committee Circular” of September 23, 1913, was formerly in the Dockyard there, having been presented to that office by Commodore the Hon. W. J. Ward, in August 1880. It was handed over to the Institute of Jamaica by the last commodore after the dockyard was given up. It is obviously a copy of an older plan in the Colonial Secretary’s office. In mistake it is stated on it that the original plan was surveyed in June 1857. It should have been 1827.
The wording on the original plan is as follows: “A general plan of the town, forts and fortifications, etc., of Port Royal, performed by an order from His Grace William, Duke of Manchester, Captain-General and Governor-in-Chief of His Majesty’s Island of Jamaica and the territories thereon depending in America, Chancellor and Vice-Admiral of the same. Surveyed in June 1827 by Philip A. Morris, Crown Surveyor.”
On the original plan are the following notes: “All within the yellow lines is Crown property.” “The blue lines represent the town of Port Royal before the great earthquake of 1692.” “The red line is what remained of the town after the earthquake.” “The ochre colouring represents the town as it now stands.” “True copy from Morris, original Survey. The blue, red and yellow lines added by me.” (Signed) Thos. Harrison, Govt. Surveyor, 20th September, 1870; (Signed) J. R. Mann, D. of Rds. and Surveyor-General, 24th October, 1870.
The following interesting experience of a diver during his visit to submerged Port Royal, appeared in the “Falmouth Post,” of October 7, 1859.
Sir,—Being aware that many erroneous statements regarding my explorations of old Port Royal have been circulated, I beg to offer the public, through the medium of your valuable journal, the following statement, should you deem it worthy a place in your columns.
I first went down on the remains of the old Port Royal on the 29th August, and found that what I had heard with regard to some of the buildings being seen when the water was clear was correct. I landed among the remains of ten or more houses, the walls of which were from 3 to 10 feet above the sand. The day was rather cloudy and I could only get a view of a small portion at a time.
After repairing H.M. Ship Valorous, I went down again on the 9th instant, at what is called at Port Royal, “The Church Buoy,” but which ought to be called the “Fort Buoy,” it being placed on the remains of old Fort James; but the day was unfavourable, the water being muddy—so that I could not see much; and being impressed with the idea that it must have been the remains of the church on which I was, my explorations that day were not satisfactory. About 12 o’clock (being then down four hours) the water cleared a little, and getting a better view I concluded that the ruins which I was on must have been those of a fort. But soon after I found a large granite stone somewhat the shape and size of a tombstone, which was covered with a coral formation, so that I could not tell whether it had an inscription or not. Fancying this stone to have been a tombstone, thereby indicating the vicinity of a churchyard, I was not satisfied what the character of the building could have been. I came to the surface about 1 o’clock determined to wait a more favourable day. In the meantime Mr. de Pass was so good as to obtain for me, from the collection of Henry Hutchings, Esq., a map of the old town as it stood before the earthquake, by which I learnt that the ruins, of the nature of which I had all along my doubts, were in fact the ruins of old Fort James, and that the Church stood about the east end of the present dockyard.
Monday, the 19th instant, being a very clear day, I went down about 2 o’clock, and had a very good view of the Fort. At times I could see objects 100 feet each away from me. The Fort forms an obtuse angle to the west, on a line with the north end of the hospital—the wall of the angle runs in a N.E. direction, the other in a S.S.E. The walls are built of brick, and are as solid as so much rock. I have traced and examined several of the embrasures and have no doubt but that the guns in them are covered with coral; that known as “brain stone,” being large and numerous on the fort. After being down about two hours, I found an iron gun in one of the embrasures almost covered in the ruins, with a heavy copper chain to the breech. After sending up the gun next day, I found the end of another chain not far from where the gun lay. On heaving it out of the sand and mud, I found it was attached to a granite stone similar to the one I had seen before. I have no doubt these stones were part of the embrasures and that the copper chains were used for slinging the guns. The gun which I found had no trunnions to it, and therefore could not have been used on a carriage.
I am of opinion, from what I have seen of old Port Royal, that many of the houses remained perfect after the earthquake, though sunk in the water, and that the sand has been thrown up, and the mud settled around and in them from time to time, until all the largest buildings are covered over, so that the remains of the houses which I have seen may have been the top part of the highest buildings; which is apparently the case from the irregularity of the heights.
I intend paying another visit to the ill-fated town, in a week or two; and I will take the first opportunity of informing you, and through you the public, of anything new that may come to my notice.
I remain, Sir, &c.,
(Sgd.) Jeremiah D. Murphy.
It would be interesting to know what became of the gun referred to.
Port Royal as a town, never recovered from the effects of the earthquake of June 17, 1692.
Shortly after, the town of Kingston rose on the mainland across the harbour, and thither much of the wealth of Port Royal went, and the principal commercial and shipping street was not unnaturally called Port Royal Street.
In August 1702, brave old Benbow sailed into Port Royal after his fight with Du Casse off Santa Marta, extending over five days (a fight which, thanks to his cowardly captains, was one of the darkest blots on Britannia’s shield) only to die here of his wounds two months later.... He was buried in Kingston parish church.
In 1703 arrived from Massachusetts one good foot company of volunteers, “the first men in armes that ever went out of this Province, or from the Shoar of America”: they were intended for a further expedition.
In January 1703–04, a fire destroyed that part of Port Royal which the earthquake had spared. The occurrence is thus described by Christian Lilly: “Between 11 and 12 of the clock in the morning a fire hapn’d thro carelessness to break out in a warehouse at Port Royall which before night consumed all ye Town, and left not one house of it standing, by which meanes a great many people, especially merchants are ruin’d. For this Town being scituated upon a small Cay, now, of about Thirty Acres of Land surrounded with the sea, and the whole place taken up with houses and the streets and lanes extreamly narrow, the poor people had not that conveniency of saving their goods as might have been expected in a place where they might have been more at large.”
In 1708, Admiral Sir Charles Wager, commander-in-chief of Jamaica, met and conquered a Spanish treasure ship, and though, owing to the cowardice of two of his captains, much of the treasure (said to have been worth from four to ten millions) was lost, Wager became a wealthy man. During his command (1707–9), a greater number of prizes were taken than at any former period of like duration.
On March 23, 1692–93, Beeston, in writing home, had said: “But there is little of Port Royal left, being now a perfect island of about twenty-five acres and too small to hold the trade and people.” After the fire a bill was passed in the Assembly to prevent the re-settling of the town, but this was warmly opposed and in October 1703 another bill was passed entitled “an Act for making the Key, whereon Fort Charles and Fort William are erected, a port of entry”; and in a letter written from Jamaica in 1712, Port Royal is referred to as a “small island about fourteen miles from Spanish Town”: In 1716, William Wood, in his preface to “The Laws of Jamaica” says, “The Town of Port Royal, formerly much larger and very populous, is built on a key, which before the great earthquake, joyned to an Isthmus of Land that divides the sea and the Harbour of Kingston,” and there is additional evidence that, at various stages in the history of the Palisadoes, channels were formed by the sea across what is, after all, nothing but a string of islands more or less closely connected by drifted sand and stone. And an engraving, in Long’s History, as late as 1774, shows it as an island.
A manuscript chart, in the Institute of Jamaica, entitled “A plan of the Harbour of Port Royal in Jamaica, survey’d in the year 1724, and carefully examin’d in the year 1728, by Capt. John Gascoigne,” tells of the severe shocks which the town and harbour have received within historic times. As we see by the map, the hurricane of 1722 once more cut it off from the isthmus to which it is now connected, if, indeed, the passage existing ten years before had silted up.
Professor Robert T. Hill, in “The Geology and Physical Geography of Jamaica,” writes:
The Kingston formation is the oldest of the formations of old gravel and other alluvium occurring upon the plains of the Liguanea type. This is the formation upon which the city of Kingston and suburbs are built, including the strip of land known as the Palisades, and the plain extending back of Kingston to the foot of the mountains. The material consists of boulders, gravel, and pebble of varying sizes, usually very angular, and representing every known material of the Blue Mountain series. These are embedded in a matrix of dull red arenaceous clay, producing a chocolate soil and derived from the Minho beds so completely exposed in situ in the mountains north of Kingston.
With reference to the chart, Mr. Charlton Thompson, R.N., the harbour master, wrote in 1907 as follows:
“I have always been of opinion that the Palisadoes were originally coral cays joined gradually by sand-spits. To my knowledge of Port Royal Point (thirty-one years), I am sure it had grown out about 50 feet during that time, which portion sank during the last earthquake; and the depressions or subsidences which took place then were all made-up land. There were also subsidences in the Palisadoes.”
The following account of the hurricane of 1722 above referred to is from “A Voyage to Guinea, Brasil, and the West Indies; in His Majesty’s ships the Swallow and Weymouth” by John Atkins, a naval surgeon (2nd edition, London, 1737).
The present hurricane was a week after our arrival; began at eight in the morning, two days before the change of the moon, gave at least forty-eight hours notice, by a noisy breaking of the waves upon the kays, very disproportioned to the breeze, a continued swell, without reflux of the water; and the two nights preceding, prodigious lightnings and thunder; which all the old experienced men foretold would be a hurricane; or that one already had happened at no great distance. I was ashore at Port Royal and found all the pilots returned from the windward part of the island, (where they customarily attend the coming down of ships,) and observing upon the unusual intumescence of the water, so great the day before, and beat so high, that our boats could not possibly put on shore at Gun Kay to take the men off that were set there, to the number of twenty, for trimming up our cask; themselves making signals not to attempt it. Betimes next morning, the wind began in flurrys at N.E. and flew quickly round to S.E. and S.S.E. where it continued the stress of the storm, bringing such quantities of water, that our little island was overflowed 4 foot at least; so that what with the fierce driving of shingles (wooden staves used instead of tiling upon their houses) about our ears, and the water floating their boats, empty hogheads, and lumber about the streets, those without doors were every moment in danger of being knocked on the head, or carried away by the stream. Within it was worse, for the waters sapping the foundations, gave continual and just apprehensions of the houses falling, as in effect half of them did, and buried their inhabitants! Nor indeed after the storm had began, was it safe to open a door, especially such as faced the wind, lest it should carry the roofs off; and escaping thence, there was no place of retreat, we remaining in a very melancholly scituation, both from wind and water. The perils of false brethren was nothing to it. It may be worth notice, what became of the purser in this common danger; I was regardless at first, as suspecting more of timidity in the people, till finding myself left alone proprietor of a shaking old house, the streets full of water and drift, with shingles flying about like arrows; I began to meditate a little more seriously upon my safety, and would have compounded all my credit in the victualling, my hoops, and bags, for one acre (as Gonzalo says in the Tempest) of barren ground, long heath, or brown furze, to have trod dry upon. Our neighbours had retreated towards the church, as the strongest building, and highest ground, which I was luckily too late to recover; but endeavouring to stem upwards for a safer station, was taken into a house in the lower street, with an old woman wading in the same manner from her ruined habitation. We were no sooner in, but new fears of this also falling, thrust us into the yard (the water then at eleven o’clock, breast high) where we helped one another upon a low brick-built outhouse, that being more out of the wind, and surrounded with others, kept the water still. The unhappiness of those who suffered in stronger, was their facing the wind, which brought the sea upon them with violence. A platform of one and twenty guns and mortars were drove some of them to the market-place; the two lines of houses next the sea, with the church, was undermined and levelled with the torrent, and in their ruin was our safety; for altho’ we had a greater depth, they were by such a bank made motionless. The whole rise of the water was computed at 16 or 18 foot, very admirable at a place where it is not ordinarily observed to flow above one or two. At 5 in the evening the waters abated, and with so quick a retreat as to leave the streets dry before 6; when every one was congratulating his own safety in condolancies upon the loss of their friends. Of 50 sail in this harbour, only four men-of-war and 2 merchant ships rid it out, but with all their masts and booms blown away. All the men we left at Gun Kay were washed off and perished, except one Indian that drove into harbour upon a broken gallows that had been there erected. Wrecks and drowned men were everywhere seen along shore; general complaints of loss at land (least at St. Jago) which made it a melancholy scene, and to finish the misfortune, the slackness of the sea-breezes, calms, and lightning, stagnating waters, broods of insects thence, and a shock or two of earthquake that succeeded to the hurricane, combined to spread a baneful influence, and brought on a contagious distemper, fatal for some months through the island. There being no volcanos, the earthquakes felt here are always after great rains, on a parched earth that admits their penetration; and possibly nigher the coast, as at Port Royal, may be from the sea in a long process of time undermining in some manner a loose earth, or finding in its deep recesses new caverns; or subterranean heats working towards them, the dreadful contest shocks.
The hurricane occurred on the tenth anniversary of one that visited Jamaica on August 28, 1712. In it about four hundred persons perished, and August 28 was appointed by the House of Assembly as a “perpetual anniversary fast.”
At this time it was “ordered that all masters of sloops and vessels employed as sugar-drogers in and about this island, shall before they are permitted to pass His Majesty’s fort at Port Royal, be obliged to bring one load of stones each, in order to repair the damages done to the fortifications by the late hurricane.” The Marquis Duquesne got into trouble with the assembly owing to the manner in which he enforced the order, and generally in his duties as captain of the fort, and had to vindicate his position, in “The Marquis Duquesne vindicated in a letter to a noble lord,” published in 1728.
In a petition presented by the garrison of Fort Charles to a committee of the Assembly that was inspecting the fort in September 1725, the following representations occur:
That abundance of us from time to time have been swept away into our graves; besides several of us, by reson of divers sorts of lingering distempers, are rendered incapable of doing further service:
“... You are sensible, sirs, our beds are the hard stones, our covering nothing but the expanded canopy of the heavens! This certainly is very grievous, especially when we see the company at Spanish-Town lie in beds, and having barracks fit for men of their function. Are they more loyal subjects, or more dutiful soldiers, than we are? Be it far from us to reflect on them or their happiness! but with sorrow and regret we behold our own misfortunes.
In 1733 Fort Charles was considered not sufficient protection to Kingston Harbour and a fort at Mosquito Point was suggested; this was the origin of Fort Augusta.
In 1734 was passed an act to vest Lands in Port Royal in His Majesty, His Heirs and Successors for the use of His ships of war. The property consisted of “Lands, tenements, hereditaments or shoal water.” The act, in the edition of 1738, is accompanied by a plan of land proposed to be acquired to the north-east of Port Royal. From this it appears that there was at the time a town wall on the sea front.
In the first half of the eighteenth century smuggling was prevalent in the British colonies, and subject to violent repression on the part of Spain. The well-known case in 1731 of Robert Jenkins, master of the brig Rebecca, who lost his ear on his way from Jamaica to London was not unique. Rear-Admiral Stewart, who then commanded on the Jamaica station, saw that the fault lay largely with the Jamaica merchants, but the English merchants made their wrongs felt in the House of Parliament, and Vernon was amongst their warmest supporters. He pleaded for the destruction of Porto Bello (where the Spanish guardacostas fitted out), and offered to effect it with six ships; which he did to his own renown and the gratification of the English nation in general and the Jamaica merchants in particular. While in command on the Jamaica station, Vernon issued an order, which was quickly adopted by the Admiralty, and made marked improvement in the discipline and efficiency of the British navy, and enriched the English language with the word grog. The order was to the effect that the sailors should qualify their rum with water—a quart of water to half a pint of rum. The sailors did not like their “grog,” as they nicknamed the new drink, adopting the nickname of Vernon, derived, it is said, from his using a grogram boat cloak.
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.”
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 10s. 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.
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 Mountain4 (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.
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:
As we approached Port Royal Bay a novel and pleasing sight was again displayed to our view. The hills now gradually gave place to gentle slopes and green knolls till towards the entrance the land became perfectly level. Still advancing, we found ourselves in a narrow channel between the projecting headlands beautifully ornamented with cocoanut trees and separated from each other by a very small distance, scarcely sufficient to permit two large vessels to pass. At the extremity of these headlands, where the bay begins to sweep, there are placed two very strong forts, and there is a third at the opposite side so that no enemy can force an entrance if a good outlook is kept. The water in this channel is remarkably clear, and exhibits with great distinctness the tops and chimneys of houses at the bottom. It is now many years since a dreadful earthquake destroyed great part of the town of Port Royal and covered it with the sea, by which means the site of the harbour was completely changed, and what was formerly dry land, on which stood the town, became part of the entrance of the bay.
In the “Statistical Report of the Sickness, Mortality, and Invaliding Among the Troops in the West Indies,” published as a Parliamentary paper in 1838, the following is the account given of Port Royal:
... The barracks stand at the very extremity of the peninsula on which the town is built, only three feet above the level of the sea, and frequently at high water a great portion of the parade-ground is inundated by the tide. The hospital is in a narrow street leading from the town to the barracks, and consists of a ground floor and upper storey, divided into six wards, with balconies in front and rear....
... During the above period [1817–1836] the average mortality has been about 113 per thousand of the strength annually, but it exhibits remarkable variations at different periods. Last year it was less than 1 per cent., while in 1825 about a third part of the force was cut off; thus demonstrating how difficult it is to form any fair estimate of the influence of these climates, except on the average of a long series of years. This station suffered very severely from the epidemic fevers which raged throughout the island in 1819, 1822, and 1825. A large proportion of the force also was cut off in 1821, when most of the other stations were comparatively healthy....
On comparing the ratio of deaths by each of the above classes of diseases with that which has prevailed generally throughout the island, there appears little difference in any except fevers, which have been rather under the average, particularly since 1830; and so irregular has been their operation that, though in 1819 and 1825, they cut off a third part of the force; in 1831 not a death took place from them.
On visiting Jamaica in 1844, while the captain and the other passengers of the ship, which was bound for Savanna-la-Mar, went up the harbour, to see Kingston, Gosse spent his time in examining the fauna and flora of the Palisadoes.
It is true there was little of the luxuriance or beauty that we associate with tropical scenery here. It is a low land of sand nearly nine miles in length; but scarcely anywhere more than a few hundred yards in breadth, forming a natural breakwater that separates the broad lake-like harbour of Kingston from the Caribbean Sea. I found it barren enough; but it was all strange, and to feet which for nearly two months had not felt the firm earth, even a run along the beach was exhilarating. The graceful cocoanut palm sprang up in groups from the water’s edge, waving its feathery fronds over the rippling waters that dashed about its fibrous foot. Great bushes of prickly-pear and other Cacti were growing on the low summit of the bank, covering large spaces of ground, with their impenetrable masses, presenting a formidable array of spines: as did also a species of Acacia that grew in thickets and single trees. All along the line of high water lay heaps of seaweeds drying in the sun, among which was particularly abundant a species of Padina, closely resembling the pretty “Peacock’s tail” of our own shores, though less regularly beautiful. Sponges of various forms, and large Fan-corals with the gelatinous flesh dried on the horny skeleton, were also thrown up on the higher beach; and I found in some abundance, a Coralline, of a soft consistence, and of a bright grass green hue, each branch of which was terminated by a radiating tuft of slender filaments.
Shells were very scarce on the sea beach; but on the harbour side many species were found in the crevices and pools of the low rocks, and just within the margin of the water. All were small, and few presented any facts worthy of being noticed: they were chiefly of the genera Turbo, Phasianella, Planaxis, Buccinum, Vermetus, and Fusus; the bivalves Ostrea, Anomia, Spondylus, Avicula, Arca, Cardium, Venus, and Pholas. Several specimens of a brilliant little Choetodon were swimming and darting about the narrow, but deep pools; they were not more than an inch in length, marked with alternate bands of black and golden yellow. In the vertical position in which they swim, with the eye of the observer looking down upon them, they appear to bear the slender proportions of ordinary fishes; and it is only by accident as in turning, or on capturing one, that we detect the peculiar form, high and vertically flattened, of this curious genus.
For the naturalist there is a work of lasting interest in the form of a small rare volume published in 1855, by Richard Hill, the friend and collaborator of Gosse, entitled “A Week at Port Royal.” Even in his day it was “a place for the memory.”
One passage records that:
Admiral Sir Charles Hamilton related that in 1780 the submerged houses were plainly discernible between the town as it now stands and the usual anchorage of vessels of war. Bryan Edwards says, in 1793, the ruins were visible in clear weather from the boats which sailed over them; and Lieutenant B. Jeffrey, of the Royal Navy, states that when engaged in the surveys made between the years 1824 and 1835, he repeatedly traced sites of buildings where the depth of the water is from four to six fathoms. When there was little wind, he perceived traces of houses, especially distinct when he used the instrument called “the diver’s eye” let down below the ripple of the wave.
A later work, published in 1893 by Major M. M[artin] and others, entitled “Port Royal and its Harbour,” is of more general interest.
In 1891, at the time of the exhibition, Jamaica was visited by the present King and his elder brother, and Port Royal was not overlooked; nor was it when Prince Albert visited Jamaica in the spring of 1913.
In 1894, experimental borings were made by the military authorities with a view to obtaining a supply of fresh water, but these were abandoned when a depth of 270 feet had been reached.
By the irony of fate, the impetus given a few years since to British naval development was destined to result not in the increase in importance, but in the withdrawal of the remnants of the faded glory, of a fort which was formerly one of the principal advance guards of Britannia’s realm.
A shadow of coming events was cast in 1903 by the sale of the old depot ship, the Urgent, which for many years, after serving as a troop ship, had swung to the tide at the entrance to the harbour, which before the days of monster vessels boasted that it could hold the navies of the world. By a special order in council the commodore then flew for a short time his broad pennant in the dockyard instead of in the Urgent, which was destined to spend her last days in the inglorious capacity of a coal hulk in Boston harbour. Then the edict went forth that the office of commodore, which in 1838 replaced that of admiral, when Jamaica ceased to be an independent command, was to be abolished, and on March 31, 1905, Commodore Fisher struck his flag.
Of later years Port Royal has become most important as a military fort; if that glory were taken from it, it would sink almost into the insignificance of its neighbour Port Henderson, across the harbour’s mouth—where the old Aboukir, rebuilt, does duty as a storehouse, and where memory still lingers of the days when it formed a seaside resort for the gay folk of St. Jago de la Vega—and it would be without Port Henderson’s importance as a banana port.
Its ancient glory was recalled on September 10, 1914, when a large crowd assembled to see H.M.S. Essex bring in as prize the Hamburg-Amerika line steamer Bethania with five hundred naval reservists on board.
It is to be hoped that the completion of the Panama Canal may give to Port Royal a new era of commercial prosperity, unaccompanied by the drawbacks which attended its acquisition of wealth in the seventeenth century.
Notes
4. This was probably in the Red Hills, but has never been identified. It was possibly Mount Salus.