Chapter 1

MY BIRTH AND PARENTAGE—EARLY TASTES AND TRAVELS—MARRIAGE, AND WIDOWHOOD.

MY BIRTH AND PARENTS, EARLY INTERESTS AND TRAVELS, MARRIAGE AND WIDOWHOOD.

I was born in the town of Kingston, in the island of Jamaica, some time in the present century. As a female, and a widow, I may be well excused giving the precise date of this important event. But I do not mind confessing that the century and myself were both young together, and that we have grown side by side into age and consequence. I am a Creole, and have good Scotch blood coursing in my veins. My father was a soldier, of an old Scotch family; and to him I often trace my affection for a camp-life, and my sympathy with what I have heard my friends call “the pomp, pride, and circumstance of glorious war.” Many people have also traced to my Scotch blood that energy and activity which are not always found in the Creole race, and which have carried me to so many varied scenes: and perhaps they are right. I have often heard the term “lazy Creole” applied to my country people; but I am sure I do not know what it is to be indolent. All my life long I have followed the impulse which led me to be up and doing; and so far from resting idle anywhere, I have never wanted inclination to rove, nor will powerful enough to find a way to carry out my wishes. That these qualities have led me into many countries, and brought me into some strange and amusing adventures, the reader, if he or she has the patience to get through this book, will see. Some people, indeed, have called me quite a female Ulysses. I believe that they intended it as a compliment; but from my experience of the Greeks, I do not consider it a very flattering one.

I was born in Kingston, Jamaica, sometime in the present century. As a woman and a widow, I may surely be excused from giving the exact date of this important event. But I do not mind admitting that the century and I were young together, and we have grown old and important side by side. I am a Creole, and I have good Scotch blood in my veins. My father was a soldier from an old Scotch family. I often credit him with my love of camp life and my sympathy for what I have heard my friends call “the pomp, pride, and circumstance of glorious war.” Many people have also credited my Scotch blood for my energy and activity. These qualities are not always found in the Creole race, and they have carried me to many different places. Perhaps those people are right. I have often heard my countrymen called “lazy Creole”, but I am sure I do not know what it means to be idle. All my life, I have followed the impulse to get up and do things. Far from resting idle anywhere, I have never lacked the desire to roam or the determination to find a way to do so. These qualities have led me to many countries and brought me some strange and amusing adventures. If you have the patience to finish this book, you will see them for yourself. Some people have even called me quite a female Ulysses. I believe they meant it as a compliment, but from my experience of the Greeks, I do not find it very flattering.

It is not my intention to dwell at any length upon the recollections of my childhood. My mother kept a boarding-house in Kingston, and was, like very many of the Creole women, an admirable doctress; in high repute with the officers of both services, and their wives, who were from time to time stationed at Kingston. It was very natural that I should inherit her tastes; and so I had from early youth a yearning for medical knowledge and practice which has never deserted me. When I was a very young child I was taken by an old lady, who brought me up in her household among her own grandchildren, and who could scarcely have shown me more kindness had I been one of them; indeed, I was so spoiled by my kind patroness that, but for being frequently with my mother, I might very likely have grown up idle and useless. But I saw so much of her, and of her patients, that the ambition to become a doctress early took firm root in my mind; and I was very young when I began to make use of the little knowledge I had acquired from watching my mother, upon a great sufferer—my doll. I have noticed always what actors children are. If you leave one alone in a room, how soon it clears a little stage; and, making an audience out of a few chairs and stools, proceeds to act its childish griefs and blandishments upon its doll. So I also made good use of my dumb companion and confidante; and whatever disease was most prevalent in Kingston, be sure my poor doll soon contracted it. I have had many medical triumphs in later days, and saved some valuable lives; but I really think that few have given me more real gratification than the rewarding glow of health which my fancy used to picture stealing over my patient’s waxen face after long and precarious illness.

I do not intend to dwell long on my childhood memories. My mother ran a boarding house in Kingston. Like many Creole women, she was an excellent healer. She was highly respected by army and navy officers and their wives who were stationed in Kingston from time to time. It was natural that I should share her interests. From an early age, I longed to learn and practice medicine, and that desire has never left me. When I was very young, an older woman took me into her home. She raised me alongside her own grandchildren and could hardly have been kinder if I had been one of them. My kind guardian spoiled me so much that I might well have grown up idle and useless. But I spent a great deal of time with my mother and her patients. Watching them gave me an early and lasting ambition to become a healer. I was very young when I began using the little I had learned from watching my mother on a great sufferer, my doll. I have always noticed what good actors children are. Leave a child alone in a room, and soon enough the child clears a little stage. With a few chairs and stools for an audience, the child acts out childhood sorrows and coaxing on a doll. I, too, made good use of my silent companion and confidante. Whatever disease was most common in Kingston, my poor doll was sure to catch it soon. I have had many medical triumphs in later years and saved some valuable lives. But I truly think few gave me more pleasure than the healthy glow I imagined slowly returning to my patient’s wax face after a long and dangerous illness.

Before long it was very natural that I should seek to extend my practice; and so I found other patients in the dogs and cats around me. Many luckless brutes were made to simulate diseases which were raging among their owners, and had forced down their reluctant throats the remedies which I deemed most likely to suit their supposed complaints. And after a time I rose still higher in my ambition; and despairing of finding another human patient, I proceeded to try my simples and essences upon—myself.

Before long, I naturally wanted to expand my practice. So I found more patients among the dogs and cats around me. I made many unfortunate animals stand in as patients suffering from the diseases spreading among their owners. I forced remedies down their unwilling throats, choosing those I thought most likely to suit their supposed ailments. After a while, my ambitions grew even greater. Having given up hope of finding another human patient, I tried my herbal remedies and essences on myself.

When I was about twelve years old I was more frequently at my mother’s house, and used to assist her in her duties; very often sharing with her the task of attending upon invalid officers or their wives, who came to her house from the adjacent camp at Up-Park, or the military station at Newcastle.

When I was about twelve, I spent more time at my mother’s house and helped her with her work. I often helped her care for sick officers or their wives. They came to her house from the nearby camp at Up-Park or the military station at Newcastle.

As I grew into womanhood, I began to indulge that longing to travel which will never leave me while I have health and vigour. I was never weary of tracing upon an old map the route to England; and never followed with my gaze the stately ships homeward bound without longing to be in them, and see the blue hills of Jamaica fade into the distance. At that time it seemed most improbable that these girlish wishes should be gratified; but circumstances, which I need not explain, enabled me to accompany some relatives to England while I was yet a very young woman.

As I grew into a woman, I began to follow my desire to travel. That desire will never leave me as long as I am healthy and strong. I never tired of tracing the route to England on an old map. Whenever I watched the stately ships sailing home, I longed to be aboard. I wanted to see Jamaica’s blue hills fade into the distance. At the time, it seemed very unlikely that my girlish wishes would come true. But circumstances I need not explain allowed me to travel to England with some relatives while I was still very young.

I shall never forget my first impressions of London. Of course, I am not going to bore the reader with them; but they are as vivid now as though the year 18— (I had very nearly let my age slip then) had not been long ago numbered with the past. Strangely enough, some of the most vivid of my recollections are the efforts of the London street-boys to poke fun at my and my companion’s complexion. I am only a little brown—a few shades duskier than the brunettes whom you all admire so much; but my companion was very dark, and a fair (if I can apply the term to her) subject for their rude wit. She was hot-tempered, poor thing! and as there were no policemen to awe the boys and turn our servants’ heads in those days, our progress through the London streets was sometimes a rather chequered one.

I will never forget my first impressions of London. Of course, I will not bore the reader with them. But they are still vivid, as if the year 18... were not long past. I almost let my age slip then! Strangely enough, some of my most vivid memories are of London street boys trying to make fun of our complexions. I am only a little brown, a few shades darker than the brunettes you all admire so much. But my companion was very dark, and a fair target for their rude jokes, if I can call her fair. She was hot-tempered, poor thing! In those days, there were no policemen to intimidate the boys and turn our servants’ heads. So our journeys through the London streets were sometimes rather eventful.

I remained in England, upon the occasion of my first visit, about a year; and then returned to Kingston. Before long I again started for London, bringing with me this time a large stock of West Indian preserves and pickles for sale. After remaining two years here, I again started home; and on the way my life and adventures were very nearly brought to a premature conclusion. Christmas-day had been kept very merrily on board our ship the “Velusia;” and on the following day a fire broke out in the hold. I dare say it would have resisted all the crew’s efforts to put it out, had not another ship appeared in sight; upon which the fire quietly allowed itself to be extinguished. Although considerably alarmed, I did not lose my senses; but during the time when the contest between fire and water was doubtful, I entered into an amicable arrangement with the ship’s cook, whereby, in consideration of two pounds—which I was not, however, to pay until the crisis arrived—he agreed to lash me on to a large hen-coop.

On my first visit, I stayed in England for about a year, then returned to Kingston. Before long, I set off for London again. This time I brought a large stock of West Indian preserves and pickles to sell. After two years in London, I set off for home again. On the way, my life and adventures very nearly came to an early end. We had celebrated Christmas Day very merrily aboard our ship, the “Velusia.” The next day, a fire broke out in the hold. I dare say the fire would have resisted all the crew’s efforts to put it out, had another ship not appeared in sight. At that point, the fire quietly allowed itself to be extinguished. Although I was quite alarmed, I did not lose my senses. While the struggle between fire and water was still in doubt, I made a friendly arrangement with the ship’s cook. He agreed to tie me to a large hen-coop in exchange for two pounds. I would not have to pay him, however, until the crisis came.

Before I had been long in Jamaica I started upon other trips, many of them undertaken with a view to gain. Thus I spent some time in New Providence, bringing home with me a large collection of handsome shells and rare shell-work, which created quite a sensation in Kingston, and had a rapid sale; I visited also Hayti and Cuba. But I hasten onward in my narrative.

Not long after I arrived in Jamaica, I set out on other trips, many of them to make money. I spent some time in New Providence and brought home a large collection of beautiful shells and rare shell-work. These caused quite a sensation in Kingston and sold quickly. I also visited Hayti and Cuba. But I must hurry on with my story.

Returned to Kingston, I nursed my old indulgent patroness in her last long illness. After she died, in my arms, I went to my mother’s house, where I stayed, making myself useful in a variety of ways, and learning a great deal of Creole medicinal art, until I couldn’t find courage to say “no” to a certain arrangement timidly proposed by Mr. Seacole, but married him, and took him down to Black River, where we established a store. Poor man! he was very delicate; and before I undertook the charge of him, several doctors had expressed most unfavourable opinions of his health. I kept him alive by kind nursing and attention as long as I could; but at last he grew so ill that we left Black River, and returned to my mother’s house at Kingston. Within a month of our arrival there he died. This was my first great trouble, and I felt it bitterly. For days I never stirred—lost to all that passed around me in a dull stupor of despair. If you had told me that the time would soon come when I should remember this sorrow calmly, I should not have believed it possible: and yet it was so. I do not think that we hot-blooded Creoles sorrow less for showing it so impetuously; but I do think that the sharp edge of our grief wears down sooner than theirs who preserve an outward demeanour of calmness, and nurse their woe secretly in their hearts.

When I returned to Kingston, I nursed my old, indulgent patroness through her last long illness. After she died in my arms, I went to my mother’s house. I stayed there, making myself useful in various ways and learning a great deal about Creole medicinal arts. Then Mr. Seacole timidly proposed marriage, and I could not find the courage to say “no.” I married him and took him to Black River, where we opened a store. Poor man! He was very frail. Before I took charge of his care, several doctors had given very unfavorable opinions of his health. I kept him alive as long as I could through kind nursing and attention. But at last he became so ill that we left Black River and returned to my mother’s house in Kingston. He died within a month of our arrival. This was my first great sorrow, and I felt it bitterly. For days I never moved, lost to everything around me in a dull stupor of despair. If you had told me I would soon remember this sorrow calmly, I would not have believed it possible. And yet it happened. I do not think that we hot-blooded Creoles grieve any less because we show our sorrow so openly. But I do think that the sharp edge of our grief wears down sooner than it does for those who remain outwardly calm and nurse their sorrow secretly in their hearts.