Philip Jackman was born in Devonshire 12
April 1835. Worked as a farm labourer until 21 years old then
joined the RE at Chatham, enlisting for a period of 7 years.
He volunteered for service
in British Columbia with the Columbia Detachment. Jackman traveled on
board the Thames City with the main body of the troops, arriving in BC
in April of 1859.
| As a Sapper Jackman's Regimental Pay per Diem
would have been 1s. 2 1/2d. plus Working Pay per Diem of 1s.
to 4s. |
On April 12, 1859, the
Thames City arrived at Esquimalt and Jackman was selected as a
member of a party of 20 of the strongest in the Detachment, which was to
construct a wharf on the Fraser River
|
"The
drowning of three members of the Sappers and Miners' Corps,
recently sent up to improve the Harrison River Rapids, while
attempting to return in a canoe to the camp from the mouth of
the river on Saturday evening last. On making a crossing about
half a mile below the camp (a terrible gale blowing at the time)
the boat capsized and three out of four occupants were hurried
into eternity."
--The
Colonist
March 24, 1860
"Three of our Sappers
were drowned one night on the Harrison River. Four went down to
the whiskey house at the junction. A wind came up and upset
their canoe and three were drowned.
--Philip Jackman interview, 1925. |
In 1863, the Columbia Detachment was
assembled and informed that it was to be disbanded. Jackman recalls
the experience in these words--
"When we were disbanded,
you know, the people thought they would get lots of work. Thousands of
people had come out. The sappers were practically running the
government and everything. These people all wanted jobs and we had
them.
The biggest part of us was upcountry. Some people around New
Westminster were digging the foundation for Government House and they
did well on it. In '63 they sent a petition to the old Governor asking
for our withdrawal and this was just what he wanted. We were up at
Spence's Bridge then and we came down.
We were getting $1.00 a day Colonial pay as well as regimental pay and
one morning the Colonel said, "I'll have to knock off the
colonial pay, boys." But he said, "I'll give you leave till
you get your discharge." The old Governor, he got discharged
himself (he chuckled boyishly).
After we were discharged some of our men got jobs in the government,
like Wolfenden as King's Printer... The rest of us had to clear out
and work for a living.
But only about twenty went home. I caught gold fever too. With the
Sappers I did the best work of my life. I was with them 7 years and 21
days. I am now 89 and I have 21 grandchildren and 15 great
grandchildren."
--Jackman interview, 1925,
with Winnifred Hall. |
Jackman was discharged from the RE on
the 22nd October 1863, and remained in the Colony when the Detachment disbanded.
On 19 March 1863, Jackman was married to a Miss Sarah Lovegrove, of
England, at Holy Trinity Church in New Westminster; she had arrived in
BC in 1862. As Jackman mentions above, he did
"catch gold Fever" and made his way to the Cariboo diggings in 1864.
According to Frances Woodward, Jackman
then became a constable in New Westminster for 9 years.
On the 20th of February, 1872, Jackman
received Crown Grant for Lot 266, Group 1, New Westminster District of
150-acre military grant.
In 1872, Jackman takes on a position in
Walter Moberly's "S" survey party for the CPR. There he makes the
acquaintance of some of his comrades in the Columbia Detachment,
including Robert Rylatt.
|
25 February 1872 - ...There
are 7 or 8 roughs in our midst who are bully's of the
first water, and would as leif cut a throat as a purse I
take it, as however, is very frequently the case with
bully's, they are, I am certain, cowards at heart, for so
I proved them to be...Finding I bore their taunts, and
that they could not incite me to retaliate, they waxed
bolder, and as I always take my meals after they have left
the table, today they collected in a body around the cook
house door: Roberts, the ringleader, big Reilly, Jackman,
Reynolds, Rainier (a Greek), Keating and Joe Reuff (a
Bavarian). They were evidently waiting for me, and I knew
things had about come to open rupture...They told me I had
best look out for myself, as they had a heavy score to
settle with me. I told them I didn't care for their
threats, I'd do my duty, did the devil himself stand in
the way. I passed into the cookhouse, when Jack Cox,
the cook, an old Sapper like myself, told me big Reilly
had snatched the fry pan off the fire and thrown my steak
out of doors. I asked the great ruffian what he did it
for? He answered, damned if you shall eat unless you let
us go through the Store (room), and see for ourselves
(what is there). I told him I'd see about that, and told
Cox to dish me up some Beans and bread: he went to comply, when Reilly tried to stop him; I snatched up a hatchet,
and told him if he didn't stand back, I'd brain him: he
glared at me, but thought it safer to keep off. Cox placed
my plate on the table, when Roberts said, there are 7 of
us and we will see you damned but you shall not have it,
and he thrust his hand for ward to take the plate. I was
thoroughly roused now -- down came the hatchet, and he left
portions of his fingers on the table: I guess I aimed for
the whole hand, but he was too quick, yet not quick
enough, the hatchet passed through them clean, and buried
its edge in the pine board, such was the blow I dealt. I
now rushed for Reilly, hatchet raised but the whole
cowardly crew escaped to the door. Roberts they led away
crying like a big boy, while they threatened me with some
choice oaths. I ate my breakfast, and taking the Hatchet
with me, left for my hut: after an hour or so they came
down in a body and told me Roberts had lost much blood,
was very weak, and asked me for medicine and bandages. I
gave them what they wanted, when they asked me to go and
dress his hands, I told them they should leave that to
them, he was one of their gang, I wasn't! Reilly had an
axe in his hand, and as it appeared their object was to
get me out of the way, he said, come boys, let's smash the
store door in! if he won't open it. I jumped back, got
hold of my Henry Rifle, and as Reilly was then at the
store door (not 15 yards away) I leveled the piece,
covered him, and told him to throw down the axe instantly,
or I would shoot him dead, and God help me, I would have
done it. He took in his chances at once and threw
down the axe. I told them I had stood it as long as
I could and that the next of their number who insulted me,
or used threats to me, I'd have his blood on my hands.
They knew I was a sure shot, having seen me shoot Duck in
the river with this same rifle and they concluded I meant
it. They left slowly taking their hang-dog
countenances out of my sight...I subsequently found out
that the man Reilly had served a term in the chain gang at
Victoria, BC and that Roberts had been a convict in
Australia.
June 29 1872 - The goods
being now all brought forward from the last camp, the same
was vacated, save by four of the worst of the malcontents,
to wit, Reilly, Roberts, Reynolds and Jackman. Moberly told them he would take them no further. That
sufficient food would be left them to suffice until the
trail was cut through the bottom, and the mule trains were
in and ready to return. They would then be sent on to Wild
Horse Creek and turned adrift, that the pay of Roberts and
Reilly would cease from the date of their breaking out
into Mutiny; that of Reynolds and Jackman from the
present date. In the case of the first named, I felt only
that it served them right. For the other two, I felt sorry
- sorry they should have been so foolish. Reynolds was
quite useless anyway, but he was getting on in years, and Jackman had been an old Sapper and had a wife and
family.
--From Rylatt's Journal |
After losing his position on the CPR
survey, Jackman becomes a fishery guardian on the Fraser river for the
next 14 years.
|
"There was no official cemetery at Brockton Point; it was
just a place where they buried people. I went over there in the
spring of 1878 or 1879 to attend the funeral of a child belonging
to Peter Plant. We had no parson with us, but there was in
the group, in those days, a bull puncher, Jack Jackman, ox
teamster I suppose you'd call him. There was no minister so
he read the burial service. The grave was just a hole in the
ground in the bush, and as near as I can remember there were other
graves there. I was just a young fellow, and I was surprised
when the bull puncher read the burial service; he was just a rough
bull puncher. Just when they were going to put the child in
the ground he said - there was no minister - "Is no one going
to say anything." and somebody said "no." they were
just going to put the child in the ground, and he said "If
you will allow me, I will." He had a book in his
pocket, and I was surprised to see a rough bull puncher pull it
out, and read the burial service out of the prayer book."
--Memorandum
of conversation with John Murray,
son of Sapper John Murray RE.
Saturday, 20 August 1938 |
| From about 1884 on, Jackman took a
variety of jobs including farmer and owning a shop in Aldergrove, BC.
From 1895 to 1897, Jackman was the
Reeve of Fort Langley.
|
 |
Philip Jackman
circa 1894 |
|
 |
Philip Jackman
1909 |
|
On the left we have
Jackman from a larger picture taken at the
1909 Royal
Engineer Reunion. |
Mrs. Jackman died in
February 1917.
|
Enderby, BC, 4th Nov. 1924
Dear Mr. Jackman,
Remembering you in the past and having seen in the last
Saturday's "Daily Province" with pleasure that you are still
living in BC and thinking that you may not have forgotten an
old friend -- my late husband then Lieut. H.S. Palmer RE, who
came out with you all round "Cape Horn" in the Thames City.
I am remembering to write this letter hoping the address
will find you no doubt you may also remember having known
Archdeacon and Mrs. Wright's family who lived in Sapperton at
the Rectory -- well the writer of this letter is the Miss
Wright of old -- their eldest daughter -- who ever remembered
the 7th of October 1863 when one and all of the dear RE's did
their very best to make that happy wedding day the very
brightest one for the Bride and her dear husband. Which
could be wished.
It would be a great pleasure to Mrs. Palmer to hear from
Mr. Jackman. She greatly enjoyed reading the account of
his life. Indeed a most interesting one she thought.
She only wishes she could have a chat with him one of
these good old days in New Westminster. The Rectory is
still standing and she went over it when last ion New
Westminster and a short time of there were two old trees of
olden days there! Mrs. Palmer believes she is the only
one living of the ex-officers and their wives!
She has been trying to get information of Mr. Edwards or
his family but all she can hear of them is that Emily, his
daughter, was school mistress for some time in the Royal City.
Mrs. Bushby, Gov. Douglas' daughter is living in
Cheltenham, England, doing good. church work.
The Mails are now being called for Mrs. Palmer.
Much said this letter
With her best wishes.
Addressee would like from Mr. Jackman in reply.
--From Mrs. Palmer to Philip Jackman |
Philip Jackman
died in 1927 and was survived by 3 of his 6 children.
He was the last survivor of the Columbia
Detachment of 1858.
|
THE LAST ENGINEER
music & lyrics by Bruce Coughlan (SOCAN)
In 1927 Philip Jackman passed away
And with him passed a legacy that can still be felt today
When Victoria was sovereign
Britannia ruled the waves
And the dreams of an empire were borne on the sapper's spade
Here's to the last of those fine,
gallant men
And sad, of their likes we shall not see again
Raise up your glass for all those we hold deer
For we've seen the last of the Royal Engineers
A boyish man from Devonshire, he came
across the brine
With the corp. of the Royal Engineers in 1859
True men of sense & purpose, new frontiers to explore
They built a British Colony on the North Pacific shore
He'd built the roads & highways, and
he'd dredged the channels through
Been a cop in New Westminster, worked the CP Survey Crew
Homesteaded quarter section where he raised a family too
He'd marked his place in history when he passed at ninety-two
Here's to the last of those fine,
gallant men
And sad, of their likes we shall not see again
Raise up your glass to all those we hold deer
Here's to the last of the Royal Engineers
For years he'd watched the shadows as
around, the men he'd known
Death touched their lips with silence, he'd draped them one by one
He would drink a toast in silence, "to the builders of the west"
Long life to the hearts still beating, and peace to the hearts at
rest"
Here's to the last of those fine,
gallant men
And sad, of their likes we shall not see again
Raise up your glass to all those we hold deer
Here's to the last of the Royal Engineers
--From
Tiller's Folly
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