1825-1828: HARRY SMITH ACCOMPANIES HIS REGIMENT TO NOVA
SCOTIA—SIR JAMES KEMPT—HARRY SMITH PARTS WITH HIS OLD
REGIMENT ON BEING APPOINTED DEPUTY QUARTERMASTER-GENERAL
IN JAMAICA—HE HAS TO DEAL WITH AN EPIDEMIC OF YELLOW FEVER
AMONG THE TROOPS—APPOINTED DEPUTY QUARTERMASTER-GENERAL AT
THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE.
Shortly after this, my Corps was ordered to embark at Belfast [30
July] for Nova Scotia on board three transports, the _Arab_, the
[_Speke_[89]], and the _Joseph Green_. I had the command of two
Companies and a half in the last ship. When we arrived on board, with
the quantity of baggage, etc., the ship was in a wild-looking state.
The Captain and the agent came to me and said, “We are ordered to go
to sea to-morrow, but this is impossible from the state of the ship;
it is of no consequence, if you would give us a certificate to this
effect; the day after to-morrow will do quite as well.” “The devil it
will,” says I, “when you are ordered. Have you everything belonging
to the ship’s stores on board?” “Everything.” Johnny Kincaid was my
subaltern, so I said, “Johnny, at daybreak in the morning turn out all
hands, and prepare a certificate for my signature at eight o’clock if
required.” Eight o’clock arrived, and no man-of-war’s decks were ever
more ready for action—our baggage all stored below, our soldiers’ arms
and everything else arranged, and I told the Captain, “Now, you see,
I need sign no certificate. We Riflemen obey orders and do not start
difficulties.” We were under way in no time. This Captain Lumsden
was an excellent fellow; some years after he took Sir James Stirling
out as Governor to Swan River and touched at the Cape, when I had an
opportunity of returning some of his many acts of kindness.
Our voyage was much like other voyages across the Atlantic, but an
odd circumstance occurred. Although each ship sailed from Belfast
separately and at an interval of two days, mine the last, we were all
three sailing into Halifax Harbour the same day [1 Sept.?], in the very
order in which we left Belfast, and anchored within a few hours of each
other. Our dear old friend, Sir James Kempt, the Governor there, was
delighted with this odd re-union, and laughed and said, “I see my old
comrades, whether separated by sea or land, get together in the old
way, however distantly extended.” In Halifax we were soon found by our
other dear old friends, the 52nd Regiment. They had more old soldiers
in their ranks than we had, having embarked for America two or three
years before us; and oh, the greeting with us all, and the happiness of
the old soldiers at meeting my wife again! They were inquiring after
her horse Tiny, her dog, etc., and expecting all were alive as when we
had parted at Bordeaux in 1814.
If ever happiness existed in this world, we may claim it for Halifax
when the Government was administered by Sir James Kempt. Society, by
the force of his example, was the most agreeable thing imaginable.
Government House was princely in its style; we had private theatricals,
races, sham-fights, regattas, and among all our varied amusements (to
which were added in the winter four-in-hand and tandem driving-clubs,
and picnics at the Half-way House), harmony the most perfect prevailed
between civilians and officers, soldiers and sailors. (Our noble
fellows of the Navy were commanded by Admiral Lake.)
We had a great re-union of Governors there one year; Lord Dalhousie,
Governor-General of North America, Sir James Kempt, Governor of Nova
Scotia, General Sir John Keane, Governor of Jamaica, Sir Howard
Douglas, Governor of New Brunswick, and Colonel Reid, Governor of
Prince Edward’s Island—a regular court of magnates—and never were
people more happy than all. For some time I had the command of the
Regiment, Colonel Norcott that of the Garrison. I afterwards accepted
an unattached half-pay majority, expecting to be brought in again,
and I was appointed A.D.C. to my dear and valued friend, Sir James
Kempt. I thus learned much of the administration of a Government, which
was afterwards of the greatest possible use to me when administering
a Government myself. I had often witnessed Sir J. Kempt’s ability as
a soldier; but I cannot avoid saying he perfectly astonished me and
all who knew him as a statesman and a ruler. Evincing such temper,
such a clearness of judgment, such discretion and most uncompromising
justice, he soon carried with him the Colony. The House of Assembly,
and even the Whig opposition, admired his talent and never opposed
any of his great acts, while, by his amiable manners and kind, though
unostentatious, hospitality, society was cemented, and indeed, what the
word implies, _social_.
The day I was gazetted out, my old Company came in a body to ask me to
allow them to give me a dinner, “that is, we don’t expect your honour
to sit down with us, but we will have a dinner, and you will drink with
us a parting glass.” I readily consented, and sat down with them, too,
for a few minutes. Old Johnny Kincaid, who succeeded me as Captain, and
my subalterns, were present, and the parting glass was drunk with that
mutual feeling of strong affection which exists between officers and
soldiers. I was a most rigid disciplinarian, but good conduct was as
much distinguished by me as bad was visited, and I carried all with me.
I was not long permitted to enjoy this comparative repose, but was
appointed [23 Nov.] Deputy Quartermaster-General in Jamaica. I
speedily prepared to join, taking a passage on board a little brig
for ourselves and our horses. I had a farewell dinner given me by the
Governor and by the Admiral, and many of the kind inhabitants, and by
every Regimental Mess, while the Regimental Order issued by Colonel
Norcott speaks for itself.[90]
I had served twenty-five [twenty-one?] years in this Corps during the
most eventful periods. It had never been on service but I was fighting
with some portion of it. No officer had ever posted it so often on
outlying picquet, and I had fought where it had not been; thus were
severed no ordinary or transient ties.
The day we were to leave we can never forget. Sir James Kempt sent for
me to his private room. I saw his warm heart was full. He said, “Harry,
I am going to exact a promise of you. The climate you are going to is
one where life and death so rapidly change places, it would be folly to
rush into unnecessary danger, by exposing yourself to the effects of
the sun or leading that life of violent exercise you have ever done.
My desire, therefore, is your promise never to go out snipe-shooting
or to ride any more races, in a tropical climate at least.” Of course
I promised. He then said, holding a letter in his hand, “Here are some
notes for your guidance in Jamaica, and as you have paid three times
more for your passage [than the allowance?], there is a note enclosed
which makes up the difference.” The tears rolled down his gallant
cheeks, and I left the room in the deepest affliction.
On descending to the ball-room I found every gentleman of Halifax and
every officer of the garrison awaiting to accompany us on board. Sir
James, taking my wife under his arm, led the procession.
As I was with Sir James, three non-commissioned officers, one Rifles,
one 52nd, and one 74th, came up and begged to speak to me. They said,
“Your Honour, the whole garrison are turned out and in column in
the street. There’s the head of it to carry your Honour on board.”
By Jupiter, there they were, sure enough, in a column of sixes,
one file Rifles, one 52nd, one 74th. They had a chair in which they
seated me, and carried me after the procession of officers on board.
These compliments _at the time_ are impressive, but when we look back
remind us of the pain of parting, and that many who were then most
loud in their shouts of parting acclamation are long ago mingled with
the mortal dust we shall all add to. The little brig was weighed
immediately. All officers who had sailing boats accompanied us to the
mouth of the harbour, and thus we parted from faithful friends, veteran
comrades, and three of the most renowned Regiments of the Duke’s old
Army, and in a few hours found ourselves alone on the wide Atlantic,
with a crew of one captain and seven sailors, and one quadrant the
only nautical instrument on board. But as we were all in all to each
other, so were we still in possession of the world. This quadrant the
captain would leave about the deck in a careless manner when taking
his observations. I almost worshipped it, and therefore watched over
it accordingly. We had a very favourable passage, and dined every
day on deck but one (for our cabin was not that of the _Royal Oak_),
and ourselves and horses reached Jamaica in twenty-eight days all
right. Soon after we landed, the crew, all but one man, an old German
carpenter, died of yellow fever, and in the harbour commenced one of
those awful visitations to the island which sweep off hundreds.
We landed at Kingston, where Sir J. Keane’s house was prepared for us.
The Governor was at Spanish Town, but came in with his generous warmth
of heart next day to entertain us. Our worthy friend, Admiral Fleming,
of Cumbernauld House,[91] was in naval command. Mrs. Fleming was with
him, so that, although in a new world, we were among faithful old
friends.
As Quartermaster-General, my first attention was directed to the
barrack accommodation, furniture, utensils, etc. The barracks at
Upper Park was a Royal Establishment in every respect; the buildings
were most beautifully provided, capacious, and built on arches with a
current of air passing beneath; they had a bath-room, etc. The barracks
in every other quarter of the island were Colonial Establishments,
the buildings at many execrable, and the barrack furniture, bedding,
etc., horrible. The soldier’s bed was a blanket, though the very touch
of a blanket in a tropical climate is disagreeable; and this, laid on
the floor, was his all: a wooden floor certainly, but full of bugs,
fleas, etc., to an incredible extent. So soon as I laid my report
before Sir John Keane, he was most desirous to effect an improvement.
We turned to and framed a statement to the Horse Guards (the Duke was
then Commander-in-Chief), and in a few months every soldier had a bed,
sheets, iron bedstead, etc., and every other requisite.
Still the troops did not escape the yellow fever, of which the
seeds, as usual in its visitations, had first germinated among the
shipping (where the mortality was fearful). The disease spread to our
troops—first to the Artillery at Port Royal, then to the 84th at Fort
Augustus, next to the 22nd Regiment at Stony Hill (in both cases to an
appalling extent), then partially to the 33rd Regiment at Upper Park
Camp, the Royal Barracks. In about six weeks we buried 22 officers
and 668 soldiers, out of the 22nd and 84th Regiments principally.
Sir John (now Lord) Keane was up the country, and I had a _carte
blanche_ to do what I thought best. I therefore, in conjunction with
the Acting Inspector-General of Hospitals, resolved to move the 84th
from Fort Augustus to a bivouac at Stony Hill. Tents were sent up
and huts were in progress. So soon as they were ready I marched the
corps, and from that day the yellow fever ceased; there was only one
admission afterwards. The day previously to the march of the poor
84th, I went down to Fort Augustus and paraded the Regiment. Only two
subalterns were fit for duty, and although only sixty men were in
hospital, seventeen died that day. The admissions into hospital were
not so great in proportion as the mortality, one in four being the
average of deaths. The Regiment was in a perfect state of despondency
(it consisted like the 22nd Regiment, of young fresh soldiers recently
arrived from England); but I cheered them up. I wheeled them into line
a time or two, formed close column, and told them, whether a soldier
died by yellow fever or on the battle-field, it was all in the service
of his country; that I should move them to a healthy spot the next day
where they would leave the yellow fever behind, and now three cheers
for his Majesty! The poor fellows were all alive again in no time. When
we consider that every officer but two was sick, that already upwards
of two hundred out of six hundred of their comrades had been buried,
when death in this passive shape lay hold of them, it is not to be
wondered at that a young (or any) Regiment should be appalled.
In Jamaica, while this yellow fever was raging, I have ridden
thirty-five miles in the sun and gone sixteen miles in an open boat in
one day, and been for a long time in the wards of different hospitals,
where sickness and death in every stage was progressing around me. It
is an awful sight to the afflicted patients in the large wards of a
hospital, reduced by sickness to the excess of debility, to see the
men on either side probably dead or dying, and there is no remedy
and very little power of at all alleviating such a calamity. Many
a man who would live if in a solitary room, dies from the power of
imagination on the debilitated frame. Then, again, when a man has lost
the fever, the surgeon is obliged to discharge him, because he requires
the accommodation for recent admissions. He goes to his Company, his
appetite has somewhat recovered, he eats heartily, a relapse ensues, he
goes to hospital and dies to a certainty. It is rarely indeed that a
case of relapse recovers. To obviate this, I established convalescent
hospitals. I had various difficulties to contend with, but the success
of the institution was an ample reward for labour, and established a
precedent since equally advantageously acted on.
Nothing can be more capricious than these epidemics in tropical
climates. On the very day twelvemonth that I paraded the 84th and
seventeen men died, Sir John Keane made his half-yearly inspection of
the corps at the same place, Fort Augustus. There was not a man in
hospital and only one man out of the ranks; he paraded in the rear of
his Company, being lame from a fractured leg.
The poor 22nd Regiment at Stony Hill suffered equally with the 84th;
the Colonel, the Major, the Paymaster, and five officers died in a few
days. The Adjutant’s room, next the Orderly room, possessed the mortal
seeds of the yellow fever. Every one who sat to write in the room was
knocked down and died in a few days; in consequence I prohibited the
use of it. Major Stewart, a most excellent officer, though not obedient
in this instance, treated the prohibition slightingly, wrote there
_two_ days, on the fifth he was buried.
In a short time this fearful epidemic disappeared, and the troops, five
regiments in all on the island, were healthy. Sir John Keane proposed
a tour of inspection throughout the island. He was to sail in his
yacht, landing every night. I, having a terrestrial turn, drove my wife
four-in-hand. The daughter of the Receiver-General, Miss Stevenson,
accompanied us, the beauty of the island.
A very curious appearance presents itself nearly all round Jamaica.
The coast is very bold, and ships to load sugar are navigated through
sunken rocks within a few yards of the very shore. At a distance the
ships look as if _on_ shore, but they ride in perfect safety, the
sunken rocks forming the protection of the harbour. To all these spots
a road is made from the adjacent sugar estates, called a _barcadero_,
from the Spanish _embarcaro_, “to embark.”
The hospitality of the superb mansions we stopped at, the fortunate
union with Sir John every night—for the sea-breeze blows so regularly
he could calculate his arrival as by land—made this one of the most
pleasant tours I ever made. Nothing can be more picturesque than the
whole island, and its fertility exceeds anything I have ever seen;
while its population (slaves) were more happy, better fed, less worked,
and better provided for in sickness than any peasants throughout the
many parts of the world in which I have been. Slavery there was merely
nominal; the young were educated to a necessary extent, the able-bodied
lightly worked, the sick comforted, the aged provided for. All had
little huts, some very comfortable, according to the turn and industry
of the occupants. All had a nice garden, and all were well fed.
After our tour we went to live in the Liguanea Mountains, in Admiral
Fleming’s Pen (as a country residence is there called); a most
delightful spot, the climate luxurious, though enervating if you
descend into the plains, which I did to my office regularly twice
a week. In these hills you have constant thunder-showers; hence the
gardens produce every European vegetable as good as in Covent Garden,
and the fruits are unequalled.
While in this happy retreat, I received a note one evening from my
worthy friend, Lord Fitzroy Somerset, to say _the Duke_, having been
pleased with my exertions in Jamaica, had appointed me [24 July] to
succeed my old friend John Bell (recently made Colonial Secretary) as
Deputy-Quartermaster-General at the Cape of Good Hope. I never received
any official communication of my appointment, and in forty-eight hours,
bag and baggage, I was on board the _Slany_ man-of-war, and under way
for Nassau to Admiral Fleming, in the hope of some ship being ordered
to proceed direct for the Cape, or to some intermediate port from
whence I could take a fresh departure for my destination.
I was very fortunate in disposing of my furniture, carriage, buggy,
horses, etc., particularly the latter, which I had brought from
Halifax. They sold for three times what I had paid for them. They have
an excellent breed of thoroughbred horses on the island, excessively
dear, but for carriages the American horses are preferred.
Without egotism, our departure from Jamaica was as gratifying to us
both as that from Halifax. Nothing could exceed the kindness of a vast
number of friends, and I had a letter from every officer commanding a
regiment.