The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, Or Gustavus Vassa, The African: Written By HimselfEquiano, Olaudah
History
The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, Or Gustavus Vassa, The African: Written By Himself
Equiano, Olaudah
Enslaved persons -- Great Britain -- Biography; Enslaved persons -- United States -- Biography; Equiano, Olaudah, 1745-1797
From the time I left my own nation I always found somebody that
understood me till I came to the sea coast. The languages of different
nations did not totally differ, nor were they so copious as those of
the Europeans, particularly the English. They were therefore easily
learned; and, while I was journeying thus through Africa, I acquired
two or three different tongues. In this manner I had been travelling
for a considerable time, when one evening, to my great surprise, whom
should I see brought to the house where I was but my dear sister! As
soon as she saw me she gave a loud shriek, and ran into my arms--I was
quite overpowered: neither of us could speak; but, for a considerable
time, clung to each other in mutual embraces, unable to do any thing
but weep. Our meeting affected all who saw us; and indeed I must
acknowledge, in honour of those sable destroyers of human rights, that
I never met with any ill treatment, or saw any offered to their
slaves, except tying them, when necessary, to keep them from running
away. When these people knew we were brother and sister they indulged
us together; and the man, to whom I supposed we belonged, lay with us,
he in the middle, while she and I held one another by the hands across
his breast all night; and thus for a while we forgot our misfortunes
in the joy of being together: but even this small comfort was soon to
have an end; for scarcely had the fatal morning appeared, when she was
again torn from me for ever! I was now more miserable, if possible,
than before. The small relief which her presence gave me from pain was
gone, and the wretchedness of my situation was redoubled by my anxiety
after her fate, and my apprehensions lest her sufferings should be
greater than mine, when I could not be with her to alleviate them.
Yes, thou dear partner of all my childish sports! thou sharer of my
joys and sorrows! happy should I have ever esteemed myself to
encounter every misery for you, and to procure your freedom by the
sacrifice of my own. Though you were early forced from my arms, your
image has been always rivetted in my heart, from which neither _time
nor fortune_ have been able to remove it; so that, while the thoughts
of your sufferings have damped my prosperity, they have mingled with
adversity and increased its bitterness. To that Heaven which protects
the weak from the strong, I commit the care of your innocence and
virtues, if they have not already received their full reward, and if
your youth and delicacy have not long since fallen victims to the
violence of the African trader, the pestilential stench of a Guinea
ship, the seasoning in the European colonies, or the lash and lust of
a brutal and unrelenting overseer.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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