Wonderful Adventures of Mrs. Seacole in Many Lands by Mary Seacole - Chapter 10

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter ten of Wonderful Adventures of Missus Secul in Many
Lands by Mary Secul. This LibriVox recording is in the
public domain. Chapter ten. During my stay in Constantinople, I
was accustomed to employ as a guide a young Greek Jew,
whose name it is no use my attempting to spell,

(00:21):
but whom I called by the one common name there Johnny. Wishing, however,
to distinguish my Johnny from the legion of other Johnnies,
I prefixed the term Jew to his other name and
addressed him as Jew Johnny. How he had picked up
his knowledge I cannot tell. But he could talk a
little broken English besides French, which had I been qualified

(00:42):
to criticize it, I should have found perhaps as broken
as his English. He attached himself very closely to me,
and seemed very anxious to share my fortunes. And after
he had pleaded hard many times to be taken to
the Crimea, I gave in and formerly hired him. He
was the best and faithfullest servant I had in the Crimea,

(01:04):
and so far from regretting having picked up Ju Johnny
from the streets of Pera, I should have been very
badly off without him. More letters come from mist day,
giving even worse accounts of the state of things at Balaklava.
But it is too late for hesitation. Now my plans
are perfected, my purchase is made, and passage secured in

(01:24):
the albatross, a transport laden with cattle and commissariat officers
for Balaklava. I thought I should never have transported my
things from the Hollander to the Albatross. It was a
terrible day, and against the strong current and hurricane of wind,
Turkish and Greek arms seemed of little avail. But at last,

(01:44):
after an hour or more of terrible anxiety and fear,
the albatrosses side was reached and I clambered on deck,
drenched and wretched. My companions are cheerful, pleasant fellows, and
the short, although somewhat hazardous, voyage acros rols the Black
Sea is safely made, and one morning we become excited
at seeing a dark rock bound coast on which they

(02:07):
tell us is Balaklava. As we steam on, we see
away to the right clouds of light smoke, which the
knowing travelers tell us are not altogether natural, but show
that Sebastopol is not yet taken until the Albatross lays
to within sight of where the Prince with her ill
fated companions went down in that fearful November storm four

(02:29):
short months ago. While application is made to the harbour
master for leave to enter the port of Balaklava, it
does not appear the simplest favor in the world that
we are applying for licensed to escape from the hazards
of the Black Sea. But at last it comes, and
we slowly wind through a narrow channel and emerge into

(02:49):
a small land locked basin so filled with shipping that
their masts bend in the breeze like a wintry forest.
Whatever might have been the case at one time, there
is order in Balaklava Harbor now, and the Albatross, with
the aid of her boats, moves along to her appointed moorings.
Such a busy scene as that small harbor presented could

(03:12):
be rarely met with elsewhere, crowded with shipping of every
size and variety, from the noble English steamer to the
smallest longshore craft. While between them and the shore passed
and repassed innumerable boats, men of war's boats, trim and
stern merchant ship's boats loaded to the Gunwales, Greek and

(03:33):
Maltese boats, carrying their owners everywhere on their missions of
sharp dealing and roguery. Coming from the quiet, gloomy sea
into this little nook of life and bustle. The transition
is very sudden and startling, and gives one enough to
think about without desiring to go on shore this afternoon.
On the following morning, mister Day, apprized of my arrival,

(03:56):
came on board the Albatross, and our plans were laid.
I must leave the Albatross, of course, and until we
decide upon our future, I had better take up my
quarters on board the Medora, which is hired by the
government at a great cost as an ammunition ship. The
proposal was not a very agreeable one, but I have
no choice left me. Our stores, too had to be

(04:19):
landed at once. Warehouses were unheard of in Balaklava, and
we had to stack them upon the shore and protect
them as well as we were able. My first task,
directly I had become settled on board the Madurer, was
to send words to my friends of my arrival in
the Crimea and solicit their aid. I gave a Greek
idler one pound to carry a letter to the camp

(04:40):
of the ninety seventh, while I sent another to Captain Peel,
who was hard at work battering the defenses of Sebastopol
about the ears of the Russians from the batteries of
the Royal Naval Brigade. I dressed others to many of
the medical men who had known me in other lands.
Nor did I neglect to send words to my kind patron.
Sir John Canmble, then commanding a division, and my old

(05:03):
friends answered my letters most kindly. As the various officers
came down on duty or business to Balaklava, they did
not fail to find me out and welcome me to
the crimea while. Captain Peel and Sir J. Campbell sent
the kindest messages, and when they saw me, promised me
every assistance, the General adding that he is glad to

(05:24):
see me where there is so much to do. Among others,
poor h. Vickers, whose kind face had so often lighted
up my old house in Kingston, came to take me
by the hand in this out of the way corner
of the world. I never felt so sure of the
success of any step as I did of this. Before
I had been a week in Balaklava. But I had

(05:45):
plenty of difficulties to contend with on every side. Among
the first one of the ships, in which were many
of our stores. The non Peree was ordered out of
the harbor before we could land them all, and there
was more than a probability that she would carry back
to Constantinople many of the things we had most pressing
occasion for. It became necessary, therefore, that someone should see

(06:08):
Admiral Boxer and try to interest that mild spoken and
affable officer in our favor. When I mentioned it to
mister Day, he did not seem inclined to undertake the mission,
and nothing was left but for me to face the
terrible port Admiral. Fortunately, Captain H of the Diamond was
inclined to be my friend, and not a little amused

(06:30):
with his mission, carried me right off to the Admiral.
I confess that I was as nearly frightened out of
my wits as I ever have been for the Admiral's
kind heart beat under a decidedly rough husk, and when
Captain H told him that I wanted his permission for
the non peree to remain in harbor for a few days,
as there were stores on board, he let fly enough

(06:51):
hard words to frighten any woman. But when I spoke
up and told him that I had known his son
in the West Indies, he relented and granted my petition,
but it was not without more hard words and much
grumbling that a parcel of women should be coming out
to a place where they were not wanted. Now the
Admiral did not repeat this remark a few days afterwards,

(07:14):
when he saw me attending the sick and wounded upon
the sick wharf. I remained six weeks in Balaklava, spending
my days on shore and my nights on board ship.
Over our stores stacked on the shore, A few sheets
of ruff tarpaulin were suspended, and beneath these my sole
protection against the crimean rain and wind. I spent some

(07:36):
portion of each day receiving visitors and selling stores. But
my chief occupation, and one with which I never allowed
any business to interfere, was helping the doctors to transfer
the sick and wounded from the mules and ambulances into
the transports that had to carry them to the hospitals
of Scuyery and Buyuchdr. I did not forget the main

(07:58):
object of my journey, to which which I would have
devoted myself exclusively had I been allowed. And very familiar
did I become before long with the sick wharf of Balaklava.
My acquaintance with it began very shortly after I had
reached Balaklava. The very first day that I approached the wharf,
a party of sick and wounded had just arrived. Here

(08:19):
was work for me. I felt sure, with so many patients,
the doctors must be glad of all the hands they
could get. Indeed, so strong was the old impulse within
me that I waited for no permission. But seeing a
poor artillery man stretched upon a pallet, groaning heavily, I
ran up to him at once and eased the stiff
dressings lightly. My practiced fingers ran over the familiar work,

(08:44):
and well was I rewarded when the poor fellow's groans
subsided into a restless, uneasy mutter. God help him. He
had been hit in the forehead, and I think his
sight was gone. I stooped down and raised some tea
to his baked lips. Here and there upon the wharf
were rows of little pannikins containing this beverage. Then his

(09:05):
hand touched mine and rested there, and I heard him
mutter indistinctly, as though the discovery had arrested his wandering senses. Ah,
this is surely a woman's hand. I couldn't say much,
but I tried to whisper something about hope and trust
in God. But all the while I think his thoughts

(09:25):
were running on this strange discovery. Perhaps I had brought
to his poor mind memories of his home and the
loving ones there who would ask no greater favor than
the privilege of helping him. Thus, for he continued to
hold my hand in his feeble grasp and whisper, God
bless you, woman, whoever you are, God bless you, over

(09:47):
and over again. I do not think that the surgeons
noticed me at first, although as this was my introduction
to Balaklava, I had not neglected my personal appearance and
wore my favorite yellow dress and blue bonnet with the
red ribbons. But I noticed one coming to me who
I think would have laughed very merrily had it not

(10:08):
been for the poor fellow at my feet. As it was,
he came forward and shook hands very kindly, saying, how
do you do ma'am, much obliged to you for looking
after my poor fellow. Very glad to see you here,
and glad they always were, the kind hearted doctors to
let me help them look after the sick and wounded

(10:28):
sufferers brought to that fearful wharf. I wonder if I
can ever forget the scenes I witnessed there. Oh they
were heart rending. I declare that I saw rough bearded
men stand by and cry like the softest hearted women
at the sights of suffering they saw, while some who
scorned comfort for themselves would fidget about for hours before

(10:50):
the long trains of mules and ambulances came in, nervous
lest the most trifling thing that could minister to the
sufferer's comfort should be neglected. I have often heard men
talk and preach very learnedly and conclusively about the great
wickedness and selfishness of the human heart. I used to
wonder whether they would have modified those opinions if they

(11:12):
had been my companions for one day of the six
weeks I spent upon that wharf and seen but one
day's experience of the Christian sympathy and brotherly love shown
by the strong to the weak. The task was a
trying one, and familiarity, you might think would have worn
down their keener feelings of pity and sympathy. But it

(11:32):
was not so. I was in the midst of my
sad work one day when the Admiral came up and
stood looking on. He vouchsafed no word nor look of
recognition in answer to my salute, but stood silently by
his hands behind his back, watching the sick being lifted
into the boats. You might have thought that he had

(11:53):
little feeling, so stern and expressionless was his face. But
once when they raised a sufferer somewhat awkward, and he
groaned deeply, that rough man broke out all at once
with an oath that was strangely like a prayer, and
bade the men, for God's sake, take more care, And
coming up to me, he clapped me on the shoulder, saying,

(12:15):
I am glad to see you here, old lady, among
these poor fellows, while I am most strangely deceived if
I did not see a tear drop gathering in his eye.
It was on this same day I think that bending
down over a poor fellow whose senses had quite gone,
and I fear me would never return, to him in
this world. He took me for his wife, and calling

(12:37):
me Mary, Mary many times asked me how it was
he had got home so quickly, and why he did
not see the children, and said he felt sure he
should soon get better. Now, poor fellow, I could not
undeceive him. I think the fancy happily caused by the
touch of a woman's hand soothed his dying hour. For

(12:58):
I do not fancy he could have to reach scutery.
I never knew it for certain, but I always felt
sure that he would never wake from that dream of
home in this world. And here, lest the reader should
consider that I am speaking too highly of my own actions,
I must have recourse to a plan which I shall
frequently adopt in the following pages, and let another voice

(13:20):
speak for me. In the kind letter received long after
Balaklava had been left to its old masters by one
who had not forgotten his old companion on the Sick wharf,
the writer Major then Captain R had charge of the
wharf while I was there, Glasgow, September eighteen fifty six.

(13:40):
Dear missus secual, I'm very sorry to hear that you
have been unfortunate in business, but I am glad to
hear that you have found friends in Lord R and
others who were ready to help you. No one knows
better than I do how much you did to help
poor sick and wounded soldiers, and I feel sure you
will find in your day of trouble that they have
not forgotten it. Major R was a brave and experienced officer,

(14:04):
but the scenes on the sick wharf unmanned him. Often
I have known him nervously restless if the people were behindhand,
even for a few minutes, in their preparations for the wounded.
But in this feeling all shared alike. Only women could
have done more than they did who attended to this
melancholy duty, and they not because their hearts could be softer,

(14:25):
but because their hands are molded for this work. But
it must not be supposed that we had no cheerful
scenes upon the sickwarf. Sometimes a light hearted fellow, generally
a sailor, would forget his pain and do his best
to keep the rest in good spirits. Once I heard
my name eagerly pronounced, and turning round, recognized a sailor

(14:47):
whom I remembered as one of the crew of the
alarm stationed at Kingston a few years back. Why as
I live? If this ain't aunty sea coal of Jamaica,
chivl that's left of my poor timbers? And I saw
that the left leg was gone. If this ain't a rum,
go mates, Ah, my man, I'm sorry to see you

(15:09):
in this sad plight. Never fear for me, Auntie, cecul
I'll make the best of the leg the Rusians have
left me. I'll get at them soon. Never fear you
don't think messmates. He never left his wounded comrades alone,
for they'll think less of us at home for coming
back with a limb or so short. You bear your
troubles well, my son, Ah do i, Auntie? And he

(15:32):
seemed surprised. Why look, ye, when I've seen so many
pretty fellows knocked off the ship's roll altogether, don't you
think I ought to be thankful if I can answer
the Bosun's call anyhow? And this was the sailor's philosophy always,
And this brave fellow, after he had sipped some lemonade
and laid down when he heard the men groaning, raised

(15:54):
his head and comforted them in the same strain again.
And it may seem strange, but it quieted them. I
used to make sponge cakes on board the Medura, with
eggs brought from Constantinople. Only the other day Captain s,
who had charge of the Madura, reminded me of them. These,

(16:15):
with some lemonade, were all the doctors would allow me
to give to the wounded. They all liked the cake
poor fellows better than anything else, perhaps because it tasted
of home. End of Chapter ten