Part 1

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A BRIEF SKETCH OF THE LONG AND VARIED CAREER OF Marshall MacDermott ESQ., J.P., OF ADELAIDE, SOUTH AUSTRALIA.

WRITTEN SOLELY FOR PRIVATE DISTRIBUTION AMONGST RELATIVES AND SPECIAL FRIENDS.

ADELAIDE: WILLIAM KYFFIN THOMAS, PRINTER, GRENFELL-STREET.

1874.

A BRIEF SKETCH

OF THE

LONG AND VARIED CAREER

OF

Marshall MacDermott, Esq., J.P.

OF ADELAIDE, SOUTH AUSTRALIA.

THE following pages were written very recently, under a degree of pressure from some members of my family; and as I possessed no memoranda whatever to aid me in such a work, I have had to rely entirely upon memory; therefore errors in details may reasonably claim excuse, after the lapse of so long a period of time. These papers are written _solely_ for private distribution amongst relatives and special friends; and, as my family is rather numerous and dispersed, the necessity arises of having them printed.

* * * * *

I obtained a Commission in the Army of His late Majesty King George III., at a very early age, through the influence of Lord Hutchinson, at that time British Ambassador at the Court of St. Petersburg, and joined the 2nd Battalion of the 8th (or King’s) Regiment of Foot, in the year 1808, at Chester. Being anxious to be employed on foreign service, I obtained leave in the same year to join the 1st Battalion of the Regiment at Halifax, in Nova Scotia, and towards the close of that year embarked again with a division of troops under Sir Geo. Prevost, to attack the French islands of Martinique, Guadaloup, &c., in the West Indies. The Halifax Division consisted of the 8th, 13th, 7th, and 23rd Fusileers, with Artillery and Engineers; and we joined the West Indian Division under the Commander-in-Chief, Sir Geo. Beckwith, at Barbadoes.

During the voyage from Halifax, the convoy, including a large fleet of transports, encountered a “white squall,” which only lasted about fifteen minutes. From the fury of the tempest the sea could not rise; it was smooth as a table, but covered with a dense white foam. The fleet had been carrying a press of sail, especially the dull sailors; when, like a clap of thunder, it was suddenly thrown on its beam ends. Sails were torn into ribbons and small spars and wreck were flying in all directions. Heavy rains then descended, followed by a dead calm, when an enormous sea arose—ships on the crest of the waves, finding others in the gulph below them under no control, and in imminent danger of crushing each other. Damages were repaired, and without any serious losses the fleet proceeded on its voyage.

The united force sailed from Barbadoes for Martinique, accompanied by the West India squadron, commanded by Sir Alexander Cochrane, who took up a position with the West Indian Division of Troops outside of Port Royal Harbour, on the west side of the island. The North American Division landed at Bay Robert, on the east side, and after two days’ sharp fighting drove the French force, consisting of four regiments of the line and about 11,000 Militia, across the island, when they took refuge in the strong fortress of Fort Bourbon, disbanding their Militia. On this occasion I had the honour of carrying the King’s colours of my regiment.

The siege of the fortress, armed with over 200 pieces of heavy ordnance, then commenced. The 8th Regiment was placed in position along a range of hills facing the fort, being a coffee plantation, forming part of the estate of the Empress Josephine of France. The ground had been recently broken up, and there being no tents, the heavy tropical rains severely tested the constitutions of the soldiers, who left their moulds in the loose earth on rising each following morning.

The mortar and breaching batteries maintained a heavy fire for about six weeks, when two breaches being reported practicable, the storming parties were told off for the assault on the following morning. At the dawn of day, however, a white flag was discernible; the garrison surrendered, marched out with the honours of war at 12 o’clock, piled arms, and were immediately placed on board transports for conveyance to Europe.

Four Imperial Eagles, the first Napoleon had ever lost, were among the trophies; afterwards placed in the Royal Chapel at Whitehall, London. The 8th Regiment chanced to encounter the French 8th of the line on this occasion, as it had previously done in Egypt; and was presented by the Commander-in-Chief with the fine set of brass drums delivered up by the latter corps.

Just previous to the arrival of the expedition, a French frigate, heavily laden with gunpowder for the garrison, had arrived at Martinique; but before it could be landed, preparations for cutting her out having been observed amongst the English fleet, she was blown up at night by the French. The whole island was shaken by the explosion; and the mountain of fire, with floating wreck clearly visible, was inconceivably grand and awful.

At this time, war with America appearing to be imminent, the North American Division was immediately embarked, and sailed for the defence of these provinces, landing at Halifax.

The 8th Regiment was ordered to embark, and sailed for Quebec in 1810, when it was thought the navigation of the River St. Lawrence would be open. The transports passed through the Gut of Causo towards evening, and entered the Gulf of St. Lawrence. About midnight they found themselves surrounded by broken ice, and four of the ships put back; but that in which I sailed continued her course. For three days and nights she was imperilled amongst floes of broken ice; fortunately, however, to leeward of a field of ice extending about 40 miles in length. The nights were dark, and men were placed on the bowsprit to watch the floating ice and give warning for the ship to put about. Very often the time was insufficient, and the ship’s sides were so frequently felt to be grinding against the ice, that it was feared the planks might not be able to resist such frequent abrasions. A few days later she cleared the Gulf and entered the noble River St. Lawrence, 90 miles wide at its mouth, and 400 miles distant from Quebec. On approaching the city the scene was magnificent. On the right, the large Island of Orleans—a perfect garden. Further on, the Falls of Montmorency, 240 feet high; and in front, the river here taking a bend, the Citadel, and the City of Quebec on a very lofty elevation. The latter has a most remarkable appearance, all the steeples and houses being covered with bright tin, to facilitate the snow in shooting off from the roofs.

Both banks of the river, so far as it had been settled by the French in Lower Canada, were laid out on a uniform military plan—a town with a steeple every nine miles, where the Captain of Militia was stationed, one of his lieutenants being on the other flank and another in the centre.

The regiment was quartered at Quebec during the summer. At this time, however, the 2nd Battalion of the 8th had arrived at Halifax from England, and I was ordered to join it on promotion, which I did, sailing on board a man-of-war in which I had been offered a passage. Soon afterwards I was placed with a detachment at Melville Island, in charge of French prisoners of war amongst whom I observed an intelligent young midshipman, who I regretted to find herded with the common sailors, and frequently had him to breakfast at my quarters, after which we used to practice the small sword exercise with foils, and became tolerably efficient. After some time I applied to the Admiral, Sir J. B. Warren, and obtained his parole, which the young scamp subsequently broke, and disappeared.

In the year 1811, the 2nd Battalion 8th was stationed at St. John’s, in the Province of New Brunswick, to which place, after marching through Nova Scotia, they crossed the Bay of Fundy. Here the tides rise forty feet, and enter a small gulf leading to the town of Windsor in the latter province, in the form of a bore, that is, suddenly, as a wall of water, nearly perpendicular, and eight or ten feet high.

During the year 1812 the Americans declared war against England, at Washington, having previously ordered their army on the frontier to invade Upper Canada, on the _same_ day, being several days before the intelligence could be known at that place. They signally failed, however, in their first attacks. Reinforcements being urgently required, and the River St. Lawrence being frozen up for the season, the 2nd Battalion 8th was ordered to attempt the winter march on snow shoes to Quebec; generally through desert country, and partly through the enemy’s territory, and where no baggage animals could travel.

The march occupied forty-two days, with a day’s interval between each division or company. Fortunately, there had been just sufficient time to form two depôts of provisions on the line of march, thus making three stages of fourteen days each. On leaving each station officers and men alike had to carry on their backs fourteen days’ provisions, personal baggage, arms, &c., and frequently to march on snow shoes, which, without other encumbrances, is a labour to those unpractised. The camping at evening presented a novel scene. Huts were formed of poles covered with branches of spruce-fir, leaving the tops open for the smoke to escape. Large fires were kept up the whole length of the huts; poles being staked down at proper distances on each side, against which, the sleeping soldiers rested their feet—their couches being formed of layers of spruce boughs on the snow, which made capital elastic beds. The march was successful, having only lost one man from the fall of a tree, and fourteen men afterwards discharged disabled from being severely frost-bitten.

When the snow was deep it was necessary to march in Indian files, that is, only one man in front to tread down a path, the leading man falling in rear after fifteen or twenty paces, the next then leading, and so on in succession, the fatigue on snow shoes being great. Another rule was, that the last man of each division should be an officer, to keep up stragglers. There happened to be a long march of twenty-five miles across Lake Tamiskwata, next to the grand portage between that lake and the River St. Lawrence, when it was my turn to be the last man of my division. A violent snow-storm commenced early in the day, and after marching about eight miles, a man was seized with convulsions. What was to be done? The snow was drifting in eddies and circles, obliterating the path in front. No wood was accessible to light a fire, and the man must not be left behind. Fortunately, the party had with them an Indian contrivance, called a “tobaugan,” being a thin board twelve feet long turned up in front like a skate, used to relieve sick and weakly men of their loads. This was unpacked and the load distributed amongst those present; the sick man was covered with many blankets, tied on and dragged by the party, eight in number, in turns. Happily, they arrived safely at the end of their stage. My load on that day’s march was, besides my own luggage and provisions, a soldier’s knapsack and two muskets, my share of drawing the tobaugan, and marching on snow shoes. The division in front encountered great dangers in crossing the Grand Portage over a mountainous country; the snow drifting in circles, obliterating paths, and filling up deep hollows. Great risks arose from men lying down from fatigue, which required unwearied exertions on the part of the officers to prevent, to save them from perishing. After marching for twenty-two hours until daylight next morning, the division had only progressed eight miles, having been partially travelling in circles with the drifting snow.

The divisions struck the St. Lawrence ninety miles below Quebec, and the spontaneous kindness of the French Canadians could not have been exceeded. The carrioles, sleighs, and sledges of the whole district were assembled, and no man was suffered to march. They also fed the whole regiment during the route. On their arrival at Point Levi, opposite Quebec, where the river is over a mile wide, it was found that the ice had broken up and was floating down in great masses with a current of about six miles an hour. A number of large wooden canoes were collected, carrying about twenty men each, in the management of which the Canadians are very expert. After the men were seated the canoe was launched into open water, and the crew paddled away with all their might. When they encountered a large piece of ice they jumped out, and hauled up the canoe upon it, dragged it across, and launched it on the opposite side. This was rather a nervous operation, as the inclines, both in launching and hauling up, were very steep, and required holding on hard. This had to be repeated several times during the passage.

Early in the following spring the regiment embarked in steam-boats for Montreal. Shortly afterwards, a remarkable and most interesting ceremony took place there, at which I was present. The chiefs of about forty Indian nations, or tribes—some from the shores of the Pacific Ocean, distant about 4,000 miles—assembled at Government House for the purpose of holding a “talk” or council with the Governor-General, Sir George Prevost, and concluding a treaty with him—offensive and defensive. Each chief had been presented with a scarlet robe, and the scene was very imposing.

The chiefs, generally, were remarkably fine-looking men, their features Grecian, their carriage easy and graceful. Each chief, while addressing the Governor-General, held a “wampum” belt, handsomely embroidered with porcupine quills, and beads of various colours, which is their record of the treaty. When the recognised superior chief had concluded his speech he should have handed the “wampum” belt to the chief next in dignity of the Sioux tribe. It so happened, however, that he was passed over, and it was offered to him as the third speaker. He declined the honour in a most dignified and courteous manner, and would not deliver his address until after all the others had finished.

Their language was very poetical, figurative, and quite in the Ossian style, somewhat in the following manner:—

“Father, listen to your Red Children.

“We have come from the setting to the rising sun to help our Father in his time of need, and to live or die with him.”

“Listen, Father.

“In days long past our Father and his Red Children fought with the Big Knives (the Americans) and they laid our Father on his back; and he held out his hand to the Big Knives (made peace) but forgot his Red Children. We hope he will not do so again.”

“Listen, Father.

“We ask our great Father at the other side of the Big Lake, (the Atlantic Ocean) to supply his Red Children with arms and ammunition, and to help us in our time of need.”

Their addresses were long, and very beautiful; and six Canadians were found sufficient to interpret their numerous dialects.

After a short stay at Montreal, the regiment marched to La Prairie, near Lake Champlain, on the frontier of the State of New York, where a force of 10,000 men was assembled, including Militia, for the purpose of attacking the American fortress of Plattsburgh, on that lake. During the advance I was severely wounded in a night attack. A ball struck my chain wing, on the right shoulder, cutting it into three slugs which entered my neck (together with six links of brass chain, a brass button, and some cloth and bullion) close to the carotid artery, dividing the gullet, and lodged near the carotid artery on the other side, whence they were afterwards cut out, sundry sinews being attached to the brass chain. I lay all night on the field in a pool of blood, and was carried into camp the next morning. The copious bleeding—which was repeated three times afterwards by the surgeon—was probably, humanly speaking, the means of saving my life, which was spared by the mercy of Almighty God. From excessive inflammation and swelling nothing passed my lips for eight days, and then on taking a little milk and water it passed out through the wound over my shoulder. I recovered in six months; but the wound broke out again after fifteen years, from a cold, and was nearly fatal.

During the years 1813 and 1814 the 1st Battalion, 8th, 41st, and 49th Regiments, together with some Militia, had to defend a frontier of 1,500 miles, from Montreal to Michilimakina, on Lake Superior. The American fleets on the several lakes being generally superior, were enabled to land numerous forces to attack weak points. On such occasions the English troops had to concentrate by forced marches during summer and winter. Numerous sanguinary actions were fought, and their losses in killed and wounded were rarely equalled. But they not only maintained their ground, but took possession of the Michigan territory—larger than England—which was not restored to the Americans until after the treaty of peace.

During these campaigns the 1st Battalion of the 8th Regiment lost more in killed and wounded than their original number, viz., 45 officers and over 900 men. Its number, however, was maintained by drafts from the 2nd Battalion and recruits from England.

During the winter of 1814-15 a king’s messenger arrived at Montreal with despatches, announcing the conclusion of a treaty of peace with America, and I was ordered to proceed with this despatch to Upper Canada to put an end to further hostilities. I travelled by sleigh with a pair of horses on the ice, driven by a French Canadian along the River St. Lawrence, avoiding the rapids at the several portages. When crossing Lake St. Francois—an expansion of the St. Lawrence—it being near the close of the winter, the ice broke under us. The driver was skilful, lashed his horses, which sprang with their fore-feet on the firm ice, giving them a fresh impulse; this also broke and several others in succession, until at length the firm ice was gained at some distance. The current underneath was very rapid. I delivered my despatch to the Commodore, Sir Jas. Yeo, on board his flag ship the “Ontario,” 110 guns, at Kingston, Lake Ontario. This ship was an extraordinary object to see on a fresh water lake.

After my return from Upper Canada I rejoined the 1st Battalion of my regiment, and intelligence having arrived of the escape of Napoleon Bonaparte from Elba, 10,000 troops, chiefly composed of regiments recently arrived, and which had belonged to the army of the Duke of Wellington, were ordered to embark at Quebec, and were to receive further instructions on reaching the English Channel. Those troops were formed into three brigades, under Sir Geo. Murray, Sir Thos. Brisbane, and Sir Fredk. Robinson, with artillery, and equipped in all points ready to take the field. They sailed in the month of May, and expected to reach Europe in time to take part in the first battle with the army of Napoleon. When the fleet of transports reached the banks of Newfoundland it was enveloped in a dense fog, and the ships’ bells were constantly ringing to prevent their falling foul of each other. Suddenly they entered a clear atmosphere, which was caused by the presence of numerous icebergs of enormous size. The Commodore, Sir Geo. Collyer, in the “Liffey” frigate, sailed close to one of them, and his royal-masts only reached two-thirds of its height. It must have been 100 feet high, and ice is always two-thirds under water; its length was about three miles, and its enormous bulk may thus be conceived. It must have broken off from some very high cliff. It appeared clear as crystal, and numerous rills of water were flowing down its sides forming gullies. The clear atmosphere extended within a radius of about five miles; after which the ships re-entered the fog on the opposite side.

On entering the English Channel a frigate was waiting the arrival of the fleet, and gave the intelligence that the Battle of Waterloo had been fought only seven days previously. The strong regiments landed in France and joined the army of occupation at Paris. The 8th landed at Portsmouth and marched to Windsor, where it was quartered.

The 8th Regiment relieved the Coldstream Guards at Windsor, and in their campaigning costume their appearance did not satisfy the Princesses—daughters of King George III. It became necessary, therefore, to purchase some new articles of clothing at the cost of the soldiers. Those ladies, especially Princess Elizabeth, were very critical in matters of dress. Three officers happened to be walking in the Green Park without their swords, and noticing the approach of the Princesses, they turned into a side walk to avoid them. The ladies, evidently intentionally, also turned off into the same walk, and suddenly met the officers face to face. Neither party could avoid laughing. But the circumstance of their appearing without swords was afterwards mentioned to Sir Herbert Taylor, the King’s equerry. His Majesty was at this time insane, and occupied a padded room in the Castle, just over the terrace, in care of an attendant. The terrace was closed against the public, but the officers on guard, when visiting their sentries, frequently saw His Majesty at the windows. His appearance was most venerable, with a white flowing beard down upon his breast. Previous to his insanity it was related of him that he accosted a sentry on the terrace one morning, asking his name and if he had a family; the man replied, “Yes.” The King then said, “Come, along with me to the garden, and I will give you some cabbages.” “Please your Majesty, I must not leave my post.” “O, well, well, come when you are relieved, and I will fill your sack with cabbages.”

On home service few events occur worth recording. Remaining two years at Windsor, the regiment embarked at Portsmouth for Malta. After passing Gibraltar, while becalmed off Cape de Gat, on the Spanish coast, a number of turtles were observed floating on the water. I, with some other officers, got into a boat and rowed towards them. They were apparently sleeping, and eight of them were caught by the fins and captured. One of them, however, weighing about 200 lbs., caught three of my fingers in its beak and cut me severely. I was quite willing to let my antagonist escape, but my opponent would not consent, and he was hauled on board still holding his prey. Fortunately, there was a marlinspike on board and the fingers were released, thus affording an illustration of “catching a Tartar.”

Malta, with its magnificent harbour, is remarkable in many respects. Valletta, its capital, is built on a rock surrounded on three sides by the harbour, and is strongly fortified, as well as its three suburbs and dock-yard situated across the harbour. The parapets of the various fortifications by which all these places are enclosed are said to measure forty-two miles. The works are of great magnitude. When the island was held by the knights of Malta—formerly knights of Rhodes, and originally knights of St. John of Jerusalem—it is stated that at one period they had as many as 100,000 Saracens, prisoners of war, on the island, who were employed on these stupendous works.