Statuegate - Mary Seacole: Crimean War hero or business opportunist?

By Vanessa Lace, Second Year History

The theme for Women’s History Month 2022 is ‘providing healing, promoting hope’, so I thought it would be fitting to write about Mary Seacole, a figure I had heard being problematically called a ‘Black Florence Nightingale’, which I understood to mean that she worked as a nurse in the Crimean War. Yet I soon discovered she is the subject of widespread debate. Firstly, over what role she actually played in the war, with scholarship ranging from her running a small supplies shop for soldiers, to rescuing them off the battlefield.

The other major controversy surrounds Seacole’s memorialisation in the form of a 16-foot bronze statue outside St Thomas’ Hospital in London. Those who praise her work as a nurse praise her presence as one of very few statues of women in the UK. Whereas those who believe she was a shopkeeper believe her presence is undermining the statue of Florence Nightingale. Finally, other academics have joined in to argue that a statue is no longer an appropriate tribute for anyone. So how should we be remembering Seacole? I had a lot of reading to do.

Mary Seacole by Albert Charles Challen, oil on panel, 1869, The National Portrait Gallery

In his dramatic monologue, the poet John Agard rightly brings attention to the fact that important historical figures from minority ethnic backgrounds including Mary Seacole are rarely taught in school. Indeed Michael Gove came under fire in 2013 when he tried to take Seacole off the curriculum, in fear of her being taught over ‘traditional figures’ including Winston Churchill and Oliver Cromwell (Wolley).

Extract from the poem ‘Checking Out Me History’

Dem tell me bout Florence Nightingale and she lamp
and how Robin Hood used to camp
Dem tell me bout ole King Cole was a merry ole soul
but dem never tell me bout Mary Seacole
*From Jamaica*
*she travel far*
*to the Crimean War*
*she volunteer to go*
*and even when de British said no*
*she still brave the Russian snow*
*a healing star*
*among the wounded*
*a yellow sunrise*
*to the dying*
Dem tell me
Dem tell me wha dem want to tell me
But now I checking out me own history
I carving out me identity
Portrait of John Agard, by Maud Sulter, Polaroid Print, The National portrait Gallery, 2001

The first results that come up when googling Mary Seacole describe her as a nurse in the Crimean War. These respectable websites where the general public would trust the information provided include the BBC, Black History Month, National Geographic Kids, and Britannica.

Seacole was born in Jamaica in 1805 to a Scottish father and Jamaican mother, who ran a boarding house for invalids and taught her daughter traditional medicine. Developing a keen interest for travel, Seacole explored the islands of Haiti, Cuba and the Bahamas, buying and selling the unique spices back in Kingston before moving to Panama to try and profit off the gold rush. When the Crimean War broke out, Seacole wanted to use the medical knowledge she had acquired during her travels to help treat the soldiers, just as she had helped her mother do whilst growing up.

On asking the War Office in London if they would send her to assist the injured soldiers, Seacole was refused. Seacole herself attributes this to racial prejudices, but scholars have since reasoned it was probably more likely because she had no formal qualifications (MacDonald). Despite this, Seacole funded her own way to the Peninsula where she set up the British Hotel, providing at the bare minimum shelter and supplies for impaired soldiers.

However, this is where the battle over what her legacy should be begins. Simon Wolley argues Seacole should be remembered as a pioneering woman of mixed race who risked her life by going onto the battlefield to comfort soldiers (Wolley). Whereas scholars including Mark Bostridge have been quick to point out that her actions were not as heroic as they seem, for the main battles had already occurred (Bostridge).

In addition, MacDonald stresses that although Seacole was a kind and generous woman, she was not providing the same level of medical expertise as Florence Nightingale and should not be held in direct comparison. Seacole’s dedication to providing a comfortable living, in the form of a supplies shop where soldiers could purchase home comforts, such as tea and sandwiches, should be respected. Yet it would be misleading to portray her as a medical hero (MacDonald).

After the war, Seacole returned to London destitute because all her money had gone into supplies that were never sold. A fundraiser was held in July 1857 in which thousands turned out to honour Seacole’s war efforts and help her avoid bankruptcy (British Library).

It would then be over a century later before discussion on Seacole resumed. In 2003 she was voted top of the list in the 100 Great Black Britons Poll, designed by Patrick Vernon in response to the lack of diversity in the BBC’s 100 Greatest Britons Poll of 2001. Off the back of this announcement, the then president of the Royal College of Nursing, Sylvia Denton, called for a statue of Seacole to be commissioned (Taylor).

Martin Jennings was chosen to chisel the statue, having memorialised many a famous face including Charles Dickens, Phillip Larkin and Ronnie Barker. Jennings stressed the magnitude of Seacole being the first named statue of a Black woman in the UK, and the commission was wholly supported by influential figures including Baroness Amos. The first Black woman to head a university, the SOAS director described Seacole as an ‘unsung heroine’ (Fleming).

However, Jennings also expressed concern over the fact it had taken five years longer than normal to raise funds for the project, a factor he puts down to the impassioned resistance from groups such as The Nightingale Society. Spearheaded by scholar Lynn MacDonald, the society expresses concern over placing the statue outside of St Thomas’ Hospital, given Seacole had no formal nursing qualifications (MacDonald).

Jennings feels the statue is of great importance, drawing attention to how it can serve as a starting point to addressing the fact that only 15% of statues in the UK are of women.

But many historians have publicly criticised the art of erecting statues as an outdated and inappropriate form of memorialisation. In an article for the Guardian, David Olusoga argued we are at risk of fixating on figures like Seacole as a ‘two-dimensional cardboard cutout’ which oversimplifies ‘her incredible energy and disturbing contradictions’ (Olusoga).

‘Write history, make films, put on plays – there are so many good ways to keep the radical past alive. The dead art of statuary is not one of them.’ (Jones). Art critic Jonathan Jones attacked the ‘radical’ left for what he sees as a failed attempt for them to reclaim statuary from conservatives by sculpting figures more diverse than the straight white man.

‘You won’t be able to stand there and have a nuanced discussion of history with the bronze Mary Seacole.’ (Jones). Jones is arguing that instead of making passive, unproductive memorials to past figures, historians should be actively teaching the nuance and detail of their lives.

The ground behind Seacole’s statue is inscribed with the following quote from Sir William Howard Russell, the then war correspondent of the Times: ‘I trust that England will not forget one who nursed the sick, who sought out her wounded to aid and succour them, and who performed the last offices for some of her illustrious dead.’ This perhaps encapsulates the issue of how the exaggerated story of her contribution survives.

Historians face a difficult task when trying to disseminate the truth about Mary Seacole, as they have to break down the popularised mythical stories of her life with only limited primary source material, such as the inflated account of her life in her memoir ‘The Wonderful Adventures of Mrs. Seacole in Many Lands’. The debate surrounding the details of Seacole’s life will continue to raise questions on how we appropriately commemorate the past.

But as we reach the end of Women’s History Month, I agree with Simon Wolley that Michael Gove’s removal of Seacole from the curriculum seems rather myopic. The battle to provide education on the two-often unheard narratives of ordinary women is one that I hope, with the aid of resources like this month’s articles, we may eventually win.