This kingdom is divided into many provinces or districts: in one of the most remote and fertile of which, called Eboe, I was born, in the year 1745, in a charming fruitful vale, named Effaka. It is situated nearly under the line, and extends along the coast about 170 miles, but runs back into the interior part of Africa to a distance hitherto I believe unexplored by any traveler and seems only terminated at length by the empire of Abyssinia, near 1500 miles from its beginning. Of these the most considerable is the kingdom of Benen, both as to extent and wealth, the richness and cultivation of the soil, the power of its king, and the number and warlike disposition of the inhabitants. That part of Africa, known by the name of Guinea, to which the trade for slaves is carried on, extends along the coast above 3400 miles, from the Senegal to Angola, and includes a variety of kingdoms. Let it therefore be remembered, that, in wishing to avoid censure, I do not aspire to praise. If it affords any satisfaction to my numerous friends, at whole request it has been written, or in the smallest degree promotes the interests of humanity, the ends for which it was undertaken will be fully attained, and every wish of my heart gratified. I am not so foolishly vain as to expect from it either immortality or literary reputation. If then the following narrative does not appear sufficiently interesting to engage general attention, let my motive be some excuse for its publication. I believe there are few events in my life, which have not happened to many: it is true the incidents of it are numerous and, did I consider myself an European, I might say my sufferings were great: but when I compare my lot with that of most of my countrymen, I regard myself as a particular favorite of Heaven, and acknowledge the mercies of Providence in every occurrence of my life. It is therefore, I confess, not a little hazardous in a private and obscure individual, and a stranger too, thus to solicit the indulgent attention of the public especially when I own I offer here the history of neither a faint, a hero, nor a tyrant.
People generally think those memoirs only worthy to be read or remembered which abound in great or striking events, those, in short, which in a high degree excite either admiration or pity: all others they consign to contempt and oblivion. I believe it is difficult for those who publish their own memoirs to escape the imputation of vanity nor is this the only disadvantage under which they labour: it is also their misfortune, that what is uncommon is rarely, if ever, believed, and what is obvious we are apt to turn from with disgust, and to charge the writer with impertinence. The author's account of his country, and their manners and customs-Administration of justice. Proofread and pages added by Jonathan Perry, March 2001. Proofread and posted by Raluca Preotu, August 1999. Scanned and proofread by Kathleen Diekhoff, May 1998.
Of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African
0 kommentar(er)
