al.

The morrow, however, brought fresh hope. A good night's rest had
served to strengthen my determination. Let what might happen, to the
Crimea I would go. If in no other way, then would I upon my own
responsibility and at my own cost. There were those there who had
known me in Jamaica, who had been under my care; doctors who would
vouch for my skill and willingness to aid them, and a general who had
more than once helped me, and would do so still. Why not trust to
their welcome and kindness, and start at once? If the authorities had
allowed me, I would willingly have given them my services as a nurse;
but as they declined them, should I not open an hotel for invalids in
the Crimea in my own way? I had no more idea of what the Crimea was
than the home authorities themselves perhaps, but having once made up
my mind, it was not long before cards were printed and speeding across
the Mediterranean to my friends before Sebastopol. Here is one of
them:--

"BRITISH HOTEL.
Mrs. Mary Seacole
(_Late of Kingston, Jamaica_),

Respectfully announces to her former kind friends,
and to the Officers of the Army and Navy generally,

That she has taken her passage in the screw-steamer
"Hollander," to start from London on the 25th of
January, intending on her arrival at Balaclava to
establish a mess table and comfortable quarters for sick
and convalescent officers."

This bold programme would reach the Crimea in the end of January, at a
time when any officer would have considered a stall in an English
stable luxurious quarters compared to those he possessed, and had
nearly forgotten the comforts of a mess-table. It must have read to
them rather like a mockery, and yet, as the reader will see, I
succeeded in redeeming my pledge.

While this new scheme was maturing, I again met Mr. Day in England. He
was bound to Balaclava upon some shipping business, and we came to the
understanding that (if it were found desirable) we should together
open a store as well as an hotel in the neighbourhood of the camp. So
was originated the well-known firm of Seacole and Day (I am sorry to
say, the camp wits dubbed it Day and Martin), which, for so many
months, did business upon the now deserted high-road from the then
busy harbour of Balaclava to the front of the British army before
Sebastopol.

These new arrangements were not allowed to interfere in any way with
the main object of my jou