Thieves—Powdering a Horse

113 CHAPTER XIII. My Work in the Crimea 124 CHAPTER XIV. My Customers at the British Hotel 135 CHAPTER XV. My First Glimpse of War—Advance of my Turkish Friends on Kamara—Visitors to the Camp—Miss Nightingale—Mons. Soyer and the Cholera—Summer in the Crimea—“Thirsty Souls”—Death busy in the Trenches 146 CHAPTER XVI. Under Fire on the fatal 18th of June—Before the Redan—At the Cemetery—The Armistice—Deaths at Head-quarters—Depression in the Camp—Plenty in the Crimea—The Plague of Flies—Under Fire at the Battle of the Tchernaya—Work on the Field—My Patients 154 CHAPTER XVII. Inside Sebastopol—The Last Bombardment of Sebastopol—On Cathcart’s Hill—Rumours in the Camp—The Attack on the Malakhoff—The Old Work again—A Sunday Excursion—Inside “Our” City—I am taken for a Spy, and thereat lose my Temper—I Visit the Redan, etc.—My Share of the Plunder 167 CHAPTER XVIII. Holiday in the Camp—A New Enemy, Time—Amusements in the Crimea—My share in them—Dinner at Spring Hill—At the Races—Christmas-Day in the British Hotel—New Year’s Day in the Hospital 177 CHAPTER XIX. New Year in the Crimea—Good News—The Armistice—Barter with the Russians—War and Peace—Tidings of Peace—Excursions into the Interior of the Crimea—To Simpheropol, Baktchiserai, etc.—The Troops begin to leave the Crimea—Friends’ Farewells—The Cemeteries—We remove from Spring Hill to Balaclava—Alarming Sacrifice of our Stock—A last Glimpse of Sebastopol—Home! 188 Conclusion 197

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ADVENTURES OF MRS. SEACOLE

IN MANY LANDS.

CHAPTER I.

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.

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.

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.

When I was about twelve years old I was more frequently at my