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Venture Smith
(1729?-1805)
"Compared to the internationally famous autobiography of Olaudah Equiano, A Narrative of the Life and Adventures of Venture, A Native of Africa drew little notice when it appeared in New London, Connecticut, in 1798. Equiano, whom his biographer Vincent Caretta called 'a master of self-promotion through the book trade' in Great Britain, was able to parlay his royalties from The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano (1789) into profits that made him probably the wealthiest man of African descent in England in the last decade of the eighteenth century. By contrast, Venture Smith seems to have realized little, if any, monetary gain from the publication of his narrative, which, unlike Equiano's, was never reprinted during Smith's lifetime. Surveying all his 'griefs,' 'pains,' and 'losses' at the hands of 'knaves,' 'false hearted friends,' and even 'my own countrymen whom I have assisted and redeemed from bondage,' Smith ends his story grimly echoing the preacher in Ecclesiastes: 'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.' The upbeat tone and can-do quality of mind that helped Equiano's story of assimilation and success appeal so much to English and American readers differ markedly from Smith's matter-of-fact, at times embittered, recollection of a lifetime of struggle to ear a hard-won freedom from slavery and then to attain social respect and economic security" (Gates and Smith 94).
Historians have observed that Smith was born the 'son of a prince of of the tribe of Dukandarra" sometime around 1729. Originally called Broteer Furro, Smith's young life was plagued with trauma: his father was tortured to death, invading tribes brought about the separation from family when he was kidnapped before he reached the age of ten. He was then purchased by a man named Robinson Mumford and boarded the slave ship, Charming Susanna. Mumford re-christened the boy "Venture," as he deemed him a business venture. The boy was then put to work in Mumford's home in Fisher's Island, New York, as a house servant until he was burdened with more arduous tasks (1).
By the age of 22, Venture married another slave named Meg, with whom he had a daughter, Hannah. Convinced by an Irish indentured servant, he attempted an escape, but was brought back to face the punishment of sale. According to our text, Smith was then sold to a man who offered him a chance to earn his freedom. This man never followed through on his promise, and Venture was later sold again. Smith's third owner hired him as a 'wood cutter, farmer, and fisherman so he could raise the money for his purchase price." By the time he reached the age of 36, Venture Smith purchased his own freedom.
The editors of our text point out that Smith's Narrative differs greatly in tone, language, and emphasis from that of Olaudah Equiano's memoir. While Equiano's memoir emphasizes the subject's eventual freedom as cause for jubilation, Smith's narrative conveys little of the celebratory enthusiasm of his contemporary. What Smith does emphasize right away, however, is the fact of his humanity and the damnable sense of wasted human potential. "[H]ad he received only a common education," his amanuensis writes, "might have been a man of high respectability and usefulness; and had his education been suited to his genius, he might have been an ornament and an honor to human nature. It may perhaps, not be unpleasing to see the efforts of a great mind wholly uncultivated, enfeebled and depressed by slavery, and struggling under every disadvantage. The reader may here see a Franklin or a Washington, in a state of nature, or rather in a state of slavery. Destitute as he is of all education, and broken by hardships and infirmities of age, he still exhibits striking traces of native ingenuity and good sense" (Gates and Smith 95).
Equiano's narrative does much to insist upon the humanity and civilization of its subject--as well as the advancement of his own African culture; however, Equiano's life proved self-actualized. Where Equiano later revels in the eventual fortune and freedom he achieved, Here, Smith laments what could have been.
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