My father possessed a large and flourishing estate on one of the West Indian islands before the emancipation of the slaves. My baptismal name is Charlotte, but from the fancied likeness to a picture of the English queen of the name, my father called me Queenie, which pet name has clung to me ever since. The first event of any importance in connection with my subject which I can remember occurred when I was about ten years old. I had then a black nurse called Dora, in whose charge I was especially placed. It was from her I learned that my mother, who died soon after my birth, had been a favourite and very handsome slave, nearly as white as a European, and that I greatly resembled her