A barren, uninhabited pinnacle of volcanic rock in the Caribbean was once commissioned a sloop-of-war in His Britannic Majesty’s Navy. For ten days in May and June of 1805, the naval campaign which was to end at Trafalgar centered briefly about HMS Diamond Rock. The Rock performed very efficiently the functions of a blockading squadron off the main French naval base in the West Indies. British commanders, by taking advantage of the Rock’s strategic position, were able to close Fort Royal, Martinique, for almost sixteen months.
The world-wide struggle between Britain and France, the two foremost naval powers of the day, was particularly intense in the “sugar islands.” These were far more important then than now in world economies and as strategic outposts. Indeed, more crucial actions were fought in the West Indies than off the coasts of France and Britain combined. Sometimes even the main battle fleets of the two nations met here as in the Battle of the Saints on April 9-12, 1782, when Rodney won a victory over the French Admiral de Grasse, fresh from his Yorktown triumph, which was the beginning of a period of 160 years of British naval supremacy.
The more normal wartime naval situation in the West Indies, however, was for both France and Britain to have relatively small squadrons, sometimes spread from Barbados to Jamaica, a distance of 1,000 nautical miles. The ships of both sides were, of course, built of wood and entirely dependent upon wind for motive power. Hurricanes, underwater borers, barnacles, and the effect of the tropical climate on ships and crews made operations difficult and uncertain over extended periods. Naval operations in the West Indies were, even when relatively small, of considerable value to the victors. A man’s reputation was made by properly analyzing all the variables, and solving local problems often led to a promotion and greater responsibilities. Nelson was successful in local West Indian command long before his great victories in fleet actions.
The idea of Commodore Samuel Hood to seize Diamond Rock which lay between French Martinique and British St. Lucia was an imaginative answer to an essentially local strategic problem. Hood was knighted during this period: he was one of several Hoods to gain high rank and distinction in the Royal Navy. His cousin, Admiral Lord Samuel Hood, was second in command to Rodney at the Battle of the Saints. He needed to blockade Fort Royal on Martinique and lacked the ships to do it. The commissioning uf the Rock as a man-of-war was perhaps more for victualing and accounting purposes than because of strategic concepts; however, the Rock carried out many missions that a blockading ship might normally be expected to accomplish.
Hood’s total force in April of 1804 consisted of two ships-of-the-line and 27 smaller vessels. The British had a local superiority in ships, but the French still controlled much of the West Indies. Hood could profitably have employed four times as many ships as he had. He was actually conducting a holding operation over an enormous area of islands and tropical seas. It would not have been logical to employ half his total force just to blockade Fort Royal in Martinique, even though the port was of extreme importance to the French.
The position of Diamond Rock, its height for observation purposes, and the reliable easterly trade winds meant that no ships at all need be maintained at sea close to the French base. HMS Diamond Rock performed her blockading functions better than any ship could possibly have done and at a surprisingly small cost in both men and munitions.
Hood sent a party of sailors and marines ashore on Diamond Rock on January 6, 1804; there were carpenters, masons, and smiths among them. Supplies of iron, sand, lime for mortar, and lumber were brought in from nearby St. Lucia. While some men explored and rigged rope communications, others built. Independent batteries containing five heavy guns connected by a masonry “Covered Way” effectively closed the channel between the Rock and the southwest tip of Martinique.
A signal station was established on top of the Rock, 574 feet above sea level. This was about three times the height of any ship’s lookout station. An observer here, unhampered by a ship’s roll, could easily identify an approaching sailing ship by the cut of her sails while still many miles away. The simple communication facilities of the day were installed so that the Rock could communicate with Pigeon Island directly, or their signals could be relayed through a single intermediate ship. Pigeon Island lay off the Gros Inlet anchorage behind the northern tip of St. Lucia only nineteen miles away.
A battery of two 18-pounders was raised to the top of the Rock from Hood’s flagship, the 74-gun Centaur, through sheer muscle power assisted mainly by the after capstan of this ship-of-the-line. These two guns, the finest all-round artillery pieces of their day, could force an enemy ship to bear off to the south and west at least 5,000 yards beyond the Rock, which made interception by a British vessel from Gros Inlet almost certain.
In addition to batteries and the signal station, the Royal Navy also contrived a comfortable place for the crew to live. There was a fresh water cistern with a paved run-off area above it to catch rain water. Caves were converted into barracks and storage houses. Several small buildings were erected. Efforts were made toward cultivation, even though the only soil area comprised about half an acre.
The usefulness of HMS Diamond Rock was, of course, dependent on British naval superiority in the area. In spite of a superficial resemblance to Gibraltar, Hood’s plans for the Rock were offensive, not defensive. The blockade of Fort Royal depended on the availability at Gros Inlet of a ship or ships in St. Lucia to intercept an approaching enemy ship. The Rock was not intended for independent, long protracted defense against odds. It produced little food other than fish, and in the dry season it was not even self-sustaining as regards fresh water.
The arrival of Villeneuve and the main French battle fleet in May, 1805, completely disrupted the local balance of power. Perhaps against his better judgment, the French Admiral was persuaded by the local governor of Martinique to make preparations and to attack the Rock. It fell after three days and two nights of hard fighting. The British garrison was never sufficiently numerous to man properly the entire works against a determined attack. The French employed two ships-of-the-line, one frigate, one schooner, and eleven gunboats, as well as almost every small boat in the fleet and storming parties of more than 2,500 men. Another four ships- of-the-line had been ordered into the conflict when the British garrison of about 120 men surrendered. They inflicted, it is said officially, about five times their own number of casualties. The French lost in addition several gunboats and other small vessels, as well as receiving serious damage to their larger ships.
The occupation of Diamond Rock closed Fort Royal to all save small coasting vessels. Even though PIMS Diamond Rock was immobile, her commander, Lieutenant James W. Maurice, had managed to carry out Hood’s over-all offensive plans with audacity and imagination. Small marine landing parties had made shore raids, had captured and wrecked enemy installations, and in other ways had kept the French off balance. Naval detachments from the Rock, usually in the Rock’s seagoing tender, had cut out prizes, fought small actions, and carried important news as far away as Trinidad and Barbados.
The French lost ten days in getting ready for the attack, taking the Rock, and destroying or carrying off what they had captured. Nelson arrived at Barbados only a few hours after the Rock fell. Villeneuve pushed the captured British guns into the sea, hurriedly blew up the shore batteries and other installations, and left the West Indies. He sailed toward the south, but altered course to the east and Europe as soon as he was out of sight of land. He never again recovered the initiative and a few months later was defeated at Trafalgar. It is interesting to speculate on what might have happened if he had not wasted time in taking the Rock. It is conceivable that he might even have avoided final defeat.
The official records of this small phase of naval history are extremely limited. Only a single book seems to have been preserved from the many that were undoubtedly kept on the Rock. Accounts of the occupation and life on the Rock which do exist are in some instances fanciful and contradictory. Secondary sources are based in part on meager and unsatisfactory accounts by minor participants written late in life when their memories had begun to fail.
Commander W. B. Rowbotham of the Historical Section of the British Admiralty has done a superb job of research and analysis of all surviving records and has produced by far the best and most accurate account in his two- part article (which he kindly made available to us) in the Journal of the Royal United Services Institution for August and November of 1956. The careful reader will have many questions, however, which cannot be answered in any library. How did the British manage to get ashore, climb, and take guns up this peak which had been considered for a period of more than 200 years not scalable by the French? What were the fortifications and living quarters really like? Why was a barren, rocky, small island in the tropics a happy and, save for the fer-de-lance, healthy place? How did the French manage to take the Rock in less than 100 hours of actual fighting when Hood had said, “It can be held by a few riflemen against any attack?” The answers to these and many other questions required an intimate knowledge of the Rock which could be gained only by “going aboard” and apparently no one had explored the island since the 1880s.
Diamond Rock today is part of French Martinique, although there seems to be a nebulous British claim to it as part of St. Lucia. Neither France nor Britain takes any active interest in it. There are no inhabitants, nor anything of value there. We made inquiries and were told we could not get ashore because of the precipitous shore, the surf, and the strong changing currents.
In Antigua, nevertheless, we chartered a 72-foot auxiliary schooner. The Mollihauik carried a three-man native crew and an English skipper. Her dinghy was strong and seaworthy, although small, and it enabled Bathurst, my brother, and me to be taken ashore one at a time with all necessary supplies and equipment. We had full climbing paraphernalia, the latest snake bite serum, and both bug- and snake-proof tents. We were prepared to stay seven days, or longer if necessary. We had a digest of all original records and tracings of sketches sent by Hood in his reports to the Admiralty.
Diamond Rock is situated in deep water with two large anchorages nearby. Unfortunately, these anchorages require more chain than a small schooner carries. We found, however, a much smaller anchorage well within the capacity of our anchor chain. The surf pounds into the entire eastern side of the Rock, making it completely unapproachable. The currents, however, are not as serious as we had been led to expect. Both the western and southern sides of the Rock are unclimbable and inaccessible at sea level. There is a small area on the northern side of the Rock, however, where one can scramble ashore while the dinghy is held a few inches from the sloping rock. We had to watch our chance and get out at the top of a swell. Once ashore, we were able to work our way around to the northeastern corner which is reasonably flat. We established our camp in what was once the Queen’s Battery.
In our seven-day stay ashore, we found over 100 artifacts, hundreds of cubic yards of masonry still more or less intact, the remains of the “Covered Way,” the two ends of the aerial tramway rigged to make the summit easily accessible from sea level, and many other indications of the original British occupancy. The Hospital Battery near the southeast corner is in a fair state of repair still, considering the tropics and the passage of time.
We climbed to the top of the Rock on our third attempt and after considerable exertion. We found there the remains of the signal station, as well as the Diamond Battery, which originally contained the two 18-pounders. Half way up, we found Hood’s Battery, which mounted one 32-pounder carronade. We traced the old “top of the Rock” defenses and found what appeared to be the French way up.
After the French took the Rock, they tried to blow up the defenses as best they could with the limited supplies of powder taken on the Rock. As already mentioned, they tossed the British cannon into the sea. We found three—a 24-pounder and two 18-pounders—on a coral reef within 25 feet of the surface. The others appear to be considerably deeper. We found also the old landing stage and wharf sunk near its original position when the heavy iron pins driven into the rock to secure it in place finally rusted through.
The Rock still has many projectiles and fragments of projectiles aboard it and in the shallows of the coral reef to the east. The fairly well preserved cistern and paved area apparently held water until a short time ago; we found two French round shot on its floor. We opened two shallow excavations and found many archeological remains, all from the period of the British occupation.
We only half understood the strategic importance of HMS Diamond Rock until we stood on top of the Rock, when we quickly grasped the value of this position. A glance across the southern end of Martinique out into the Atlantic would reveal a sailing ship approaching from Europe; it would be in sight for hours before rounding the southeastern tip of Martinique and coming in toward the Rock, headed for Fort Royal. A vessel beating up against the trade winds from the west would be visible from here for at least as long. Either would fall easy prey to a more powerful vessel from Gros Inlet only nineteen miles away on the northern tip of St. Lucia.
The fortifications on the Rock are never specifically described in surviving documents. Even the diagrams are not clear. Once one is aboard, however, the plan of batteries and their individual purposes are apparent. The five-gun “Covered Way” battery controls the channel between the Rock and Martinique. The Diamond Battery on top was to force an enemy wide; the Hospital Battery prevented an opposing sailing ship from just clearing the Rock to the south in such a manner that the Diamond Battery could not be depressed sufficiently to fire on it.
Life on the Rock is not so easily reconstructed from what remains now as the defenses. Yet on-the-spot conjecture coupled with the meager records yield a great deal. Obviously, the British sailors spread themselves all over the island for comfort and convenience. Liberty parties from ships-of-war seem to have aided in the construction of a remarkable number of buildings and fortifications. The Rock is free of bugs of all types; it is cool and breezy at night. Negro women from Martinique brought fruit and vegetables; rum seems to have been plentiful. The reef is teeming with fish. Yet discipline was maintained; meager records list several punishments. The spacious and comfortable hospital was built apparently for use by the sick and wounded from other commands. The deadly poisonous fer-de-lance was the only serious natural enemy. These snakes are still present in small numbers, but were never so numerous as on nearby Martinique.
The fortifications on the Rock were too large to be held successfully by a garrison of 120 men against an all-out, powerful attack. The sea level defenses extend almost continuously for a distance of about 1,500 feet. These were well thought out and carefully planned and co-ordinated. Above sea level, however, a number of caves were fortified and one battery, in addition to the Diamond Battery at the top, was constructed. A good deal of effort went into making the few natural ways of getting up the Rock impassable. However, these upper defenses were not well co-ordinated; little thought seems to have been given to their independent defense.
When the French attack finally came, Lieutenant Maurice abandoned all sea level fortifications. If he had held them even ten minutes longer, the Rock would probably have fallen the first day. He managed, however, to get almost his entire crew to the “top of the Rock” defenses. These were not really strong, although they seem from a distance to be naturally impregnable.
It would appear that Maurice, a naval officer of 31, had not properly provided his upper level defenses with small arms ammunition and the fresh water necessary for a protracted fight. A group of enemy soldiers and sailors, led by experienced men from the French Alps, managed to work their way around the southern end of the upper British defenses. According to the unwritten rules of warfare then adhered to, Maurice felt himself obliged to surrender. Further opposition was almost certainly hopeless; it would have meant not only needless loss of life, but torture by thirst for British wounded.
Hood’s scheme was both original and ingenious. It was skillfully executed with fine logistic support. HMS Diamond Rock was strategically a ship-of-war, not an impregnable fortress. She was never intended to function alone. She successfully carried out her mission of an offensive blockade of Fort Royal. More was gained in her seventeen months of active duty than was lost when she was captured by the French battle fleet. Nelson thought the defense had been courageous and well handled.
Thus her small place in history provides us with an example of how a maritime power capable of conceiving and executing amphibious operations of an unexpected and daring nature can frequently confound a formidable but not so flexible opponent.