Maria Nugent [Skinner] commenced her Journal in April 1801 just prior to her departure to Jamaica. It ends in Calcutta in November 1814. The Journal was initially published for private circulation in 1839 and republished by the Institute of Jamaica in 1907. This edition was edited by Frank Cundall, Secretary and Librarian of the Institute (Cundall).

Maria on her Journal

On learning that George Nugent is to be posted to India in early 1811:

This book I shall seal up, and send to Westhorpe to be put into the desk, that is in the little breakfast room, where my dear children may find it, one of these days, should I not return; and along with it various little articles, as keep-sakes, which they will value, I am sure, as relics of a father and mother, devoted to their interest and welfare.

Maria's Views on Slavery

The Journal shows her positive attitude towards slaves, compared to many of her contemporaries:

6 August 1801. Reflect all night on slavery, and make up my mind, that the want of exertion in the blackies must proceed from that cause. Assemble them together after breakfast, and talk to them a great deal, promising every kindness and indulgence. We parted excellent friends, and I think they must have been more active in cleaning the house ever since. 

Her views did not, however, extend to abolition of slavery. She saw religion and better behaved overseers as the best way of improving their lives:

8 April 1802. Amused myself with reading the Evidence before the House of Commons, on the part of the petitioners for the Abolition of the Slave Trade. As far as I at present see I and can hear of the ill treatment of the slaves, I think what they say upon the subject is very greatly exaggerated. Individuals, I make no doubt, occasionally abuse the power they possess; but, generally speaking, I believe the slaves extremely well used. Yet it appears to me, there would be certainly no necessity for the Slave Trade, if religion, decency, and good order, were established among the negroes; if they could be prevailed upon to marry; and if our white men would but set them a little better example. Mrs. Bell told me to-day, that a negro man and woman of theirs, who are married, have fourteen grown up children, all healthy field negroes. This is only one instance out of many, which proves, that, the climate of this country being more congenial to their constitutions, they would increase and render the necessity of the Slave Trade out of the question, provided their masters were attentive to their morals, and established matrimony among them; but white men of all descriptions, married or single, live in a state of licentiousness with their female slaves; and until a great reformation takes place on their part, neither religion, decency nor morality, can be established among the negroes. An answer that was made to Mr. Shirley, a Member of the Assembly (and a profligate character, as far as I can understand), who advised one of his slaves to marry, is a strong proof of this—“Hi, Massa, you teIly me marry one wife, which is no good! You no tinky I see you buckra no content wid one, two, tree, or four wifes; no more poor negro.” The overseers, &c. too, are in general needy adventurers, without either principle, religion, or morality. Of course, their example must be the worst possible to these poor creatures.

Her own servants were taught Christianity and baptised:

5 November 1801. After the usual breakfast, gave my last lecture to the blackies, and finished my Christian story. I consider them now so well acquainted with their expected duties, that I have appointed the Rev. Mr. Warren* to be here to-morrow, at 12, for the purpose of baptizing them. Saw the Rev. Mr. Woodham, also, upon the same subject, and he approved, as well as Mr. Warren, of the little Catechism I have arranged for their use, and the progress of their instruction.

The Birth of George Edmund

5 October 1802

Here has been a great chasm in my Journal, and, oh my God! with what gratitude and joy do I once more renew my usual occupations! But I will try to detail the past as accurately as I can. About 3 o’clock on Sunday morning, the 10th of October, I began to feel very unwell, but I did not see the doctor till 5, when I was sitting on the sofa, and all things were prepared for the approaching event. At 8, the staff, and Mr. Perry, a Member of the Assembly, came to breakfast. I sat down with them, and endeavoured to appear at ease; but I suffered sadly, and was forced to go to my own room before they took their leave. From that time till half-past five o’clock on Tuesday evening, my misery was great indeed; but the moment my darling boy was born compensated for all past suffering, and never can I forget the delightful sensation of first beholding my precious child, and feeling that I was a mother. Oh my Heavenly Father, how shall I ever express my gratitude to thee, or the joy that now fills my heart, for the great blessing thou hast bestowed upon me! My future life, prolonged as it may be, will be too short, to shew the sense I have of thy boun­ties and mercies. Yes, even if it should be lengthened to the utmost extent of the age of man, at every moment that I breathe I will endeavour, as much as in me lies, to promote thy honour and glory; not only with my lips but in my life, by giving up myself to thy service, and doing all the good I can to my fellow-creatures. That child, too, thou hast given me, that precious child, shall be taught, as far as I am capable, to glorify thee by word and deed. Endow him, oh my God! with such good and holy dispositions, as may render him always acceptable in thy sight. Grant that he may be a faithful servant to thee; a comfort to his dear, dear father, and myself, and an useful as well as amiable member of society, kind and compassionate to the poor, and that he may, in every action of his life, prove himself a faithful follower of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.­—Here I must again leave off writing; for my heart is still too full, and my frame too weak, not to feel the exertion and excitement of writing. I cannot yet be at all composed or coherent. A few days will, I trust, give me more strength of both body and mind.

Before I attempt to begin my Journal regularly, as usual, I will try to describe some of the agrémens of a Creole con­finement. First, the heat is so dreadful, that it is impossible to go to bed. Then, to mitigate it a little, the blinds are kept closed. Then, the dark shade of the room brings swarms of musquitoes. With these teasing, tormenting in­sects I am half buzzed out of my senses, and nearly stung to death. Then, the old black nurse brought a cargo of herbs, and wished to try various charms, to expedite the birth of the child, and told me so many stories of pinching and tying women to the bed-post, to hasten matters, that sometimes, in spite of my agony, I could not help laughing, and, at others, I was really in a fright, for fear she would try some of her experiments upon me. But the maids took all her herbs from her, and made her remove all the smoking apparatus she had prepared for my benefit.

The very night my dear baby was born, it was nearly de­voured by the musquitoes, in spite of all my care, in ex­posing my own arms and neck to their attacks; and, fora day or two, his dear little eyes were almost closed up.­—Poor nurse Hamilton suffered sadly from the heat, in keep­ing him under my curtain, and behaved so kindly that I am quite reconciled to her.—My English maids too, were so attentive, and took such care, that old nurse Flora should not pinch, or suffocate me to death with her charms, that I shall not forget it. As for Margaret Clifford, I am sure if I had been her own child, she could not have appeared to feel more.

The morning after my darling boy was born, I was allowed the luxury of a warm bath, of all sorts of sweet herbs and scented leaves; such as orange blossoms, &c. It was so contrived, that I could enjoy it without much fatigue for a few minutes, and those few minutes were an indescrib­able refreshment. This I continued every day, while I kept my room. The third day I sat, or rather lay upon my sofa, with my cherub on a pillow by my side; and who can describe or imagine my delightful sensation, in looking at this dear baby! My heart is always in prayer, and never can I be sufficiently thankful.

Past the first three weeks quietly.—Did not admit all our family, but had two or three only to visit me, and now and then to dine.—On the 30th of October, however, they all came once more, as usual, and our former way of life was renewed.—My dear N. was engaged every morning, with the House of Assembly, but the great happiness he feels, when he returns from the labours of the day, in seeing our little darling, makes him forget all, and join with me in my joy and delight. I am indeed thankful, and only wish all the world felt the gratitude and happiness I do, or had cause to feel it equally with myself. In speaking of the kindness of domestics, I ought not to forget Cupid, who was the pic­ture of woe I am told, and would neither eat, drink, nor sleep, while I was ill; and then danced and sung, and seemed half mad with joy, when my dear baby was born. And I have rewarded him, by letting him be the first of all the blackies about the house to see the baby, and he is also to be his valet-de-chambre by-and-bye.

Birth and Death of Edmund

The Journal records birth and death a month later of Edmund:

19 December 1807. I left off writing this day fortnight, and now resume my pen, with joy and thankfulness. A few minutes after 5 o’clock on that day, [5 December] I felt slight pains, but I knew them to be decisive; I therefore quietly gave orders, for all things to be got ready, and tried to make up my mind to what was to follow. I had, however, but a short time to think of it; for the doctor and nurse could scarcely be with me, before my darling little fat Edmund made his entrée into the world of woe, as it is called by some, but may it be a world of happiness to him.

27 December 1807. With what different feelings, with what agony, do I resume my pen! God has taken my darling child from me! He is now no more.

Feelings about India

In March [1811], the East India plan was decided upon, and my dear husband was unanimously and with acclamation ap­pointed by the Court of Directors. All parties seem highly to approve of the appointment, and Lord Temple told me, to-day, that instead of feeling any regret I ought to be proud of such a testimony to his character, as it is that entirely that has gained him the appointment, not one of his friends being in power. But, alas! I cannot help thinking of my children; and, while I am going through all the bustle of dinners, to meet East Indians, &c. and while I all fatigued both in body and mind, with writing and various preparations, my whole heart is at Iver and at Westhorpe; for ten days ago, my dear little girls returned there, under the care of dear good Miss Dewey. I am impatient to get out of town to them, but can’t get rid of our engagements, till towards the last of the month.

On Wednesday, the 3rd, my dear N. was sworn in at the India House, and dined with the Court of Directors, and a large party, afterwards, at the London Tavern. Every thing went off most prosperously, and he has since settled a great deal of business. To-day, he saw Mr. Perceval, Mr. Yorke, &c. To-morrow night, after dining with the Nulli­secundus club, to meet the Duke of York, &c., he means to set off, and hopes to be at home by 2 or 3 o’clock on Monday evening. (Lady Nugent's Journal page 351)

A Poem on Departing to India in 1811

The hour is past—Oh hour of woe!

Children beloved, a long adieu!

But, though to distant climes I go,

A mother’s heart remains with you.

Nor shall that heart know rest or peace,

Nor shall that heart forget its care,

Nor shall, while absent, ever cease

Thy tender mother’s fervent prayer.

And may that God who sits on high,

Who every thought and wish can see,

The secret sob, the smothered sigh,

The bitter tears oft shed for thee;

In mercy may He, grant me this,

The only blessing I implore,

The dear delight, the heartfelt bliss,

To see my darling babes once more;

Once more in Westhorpe’s shades to roam,

The dear ones sporting by my side,

And never more I’ll quit my home,

For India’s glory, India’s pride.

And oh! may he, whose manly care

Chases my grief in accents sweet,

My happiness be doomed to share,

And make that happiness complete!

A Festival in Calcutta

11 April 1814

We have been to the Poojah, and a most disgusting sight it is; and melancholy indeed to think, that human beings should so torment and degrade themselves, from a false idea of religion. But I will try to describe the extraordinary scene. First, as in all holiday meetings, there were groups of dancing people, that is, parties of men, with very little clothing on, squatting on the ground, with each his hookah, and looking at the evolutions of Nautch women, which is one of their greatest amusements. These women were ornamented with beads and tinsel, and looked very gay.—Then there were jugglers, all, I am told, very expert; but we did not stay to look at their tricks. Groups of opium eaters, sitting in a circle, and looking like drunken skeletons-such miserable wretches I never saw before, and it is impossible to describe! Then, there were poor sinners, doing penance in various ways. But the most shocking sight is the swinging; this is done by the unfortunate crea­ture having iron hooks passed through the sinews of his back, and by these he is suspended to a high pole. The wretched man, whom we saw begin this penance, appeared at first to be in torture, for he drew up his legs, as if in great pain, catching at the rope by which he was suspended, as if to relieve himself; but, soon after, he was apparently at ease, and went round and round, as fast as possible, distributing flowers, &c. to the mob, who all scrambled for them, as sacred relics. It seems these swinging people, like many others who do penance, are hired by the priests, who make vows, and have the option of performing by proxy. One swinging man let fly a white pigeon, and he is most fortunate indeed that catches it; crowds were running in every direction, for the prize.

As I turned, with horror and disgust, from the wretch who was swinging, to Sir E. East's and Sir G.'s great amusement, a man thrust his head in my face, with his tongue out, and a great iron rod passed through it. I started back, and he made signs for a rupee, which was given him.

At a little distance from the carriage, were men doing penance, by being driven in strings, like horses, going to a fair in England, but the reins were passed through holes made in the flesh, on each side of them, and the pain must have been dreadful. But I will not enumerate all the many horrors, that superstition and ignorance lead these poor in­fatuated creatures to commit, or submit to.

The Rah-Poojah, or sacrifice by carriages, is another and still more horrid festival than either the Doorga-Poojah, or the Churruk-Poojah. Men are often crushed under these shocking machines, as sacrifices to their gods. Now, it is not done openly, but as if by accident; they are, however, prepared, by dress, &c. and then the crowd presses upon them, as if their fall was unintentional. The Ayah told me, she saw a beautiful boy, all dressed in gold and flowers, and in a few minutes he was under the wheels, and his parents rejoiced, because he went to Brama. But I will not distress myself with these horrid descriptions, for I have drawings of all the ceremonies, and they are hardly credible. Sir G. could hardly be persuaded that all the apparent torments were not juggling tricks; but what we saw, this evening, were too evident to be doubted.