Andrew Lycett

The fuss over Mary Seacole’s statue has obscured the real person

Variously portrayed as near-saint or drunken sutler, she was simply a kind, patriotic, enterprising woman with great healing skills

Portrait of Mary Seacole by Albert Charles Challen, 1869. [Bridgeman Images] 
issue 05 March 2022

Who would have thought that a statue of a West Indian-born nurse in south London has a role in today’s culture wars? Unveiled in 2016, it stands three metres tall outside the great teaching hospital, St Thomas’, and depicts Mary Seacole, an extraordinary Creole woman who was loved and renowned for giving succour to British troops, first in her native Jamaica and then in Crimea during the bloody and prolonged war with Russia of 1853-6.

It is controversial on two main counts. First, it stands on hallowed ground at the hospital where Florence Nightingale pioneered nursing as a profession after returning from Crimea. Critics deemed it wrong to site a likeness of Seacole in Nightingale’s backyard, because she had no connection with the place and only the original Lady of the Lamp was a nurse in the modern sense. In comparison, say these detractors, Seacole was a charlatan, a camp follower who acted as little more than a sutler, selling food and drink to (mainly) officers, and who boosted her reputation by publishing memoirs which may well have been ghost written.

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