A gravestone from

Olaudah Equiano was born in Benin, Africa, in 1745. At the age of 11 he was kidnapped and then sold as a slave. He worked for owners in Barbados, Virginia and Philadelphia.

By 1766 he had secretly earned enough money to buy his freedom. After working as a sailor and explorer, he settled in England and married an English wife. As the inscription on his daughter's memorial shows, he was not able to use his African name and used the name given to him by one of his owners.

He published his life-story in 1789. It was a best-seller and made him rich.

His young daughter is buried in Chesterton churchyard in Cambridge and a "white wreath" of flowers hangs underneath the memorial stone.

You can read a modern English version of the poem below.

Near this place lies interred
Anna Maria Vassa
Daughter of Gustavus Vassa the African
She died July 21 1797 aged 4 Years

Should simple village rhymes attract thine eye,
stranger, as thoughtfully thou passest by,
know that there lies beside this humble stone
A child of colour haply not thine own.

Her father born of Africa’s sunburnt race
Torn from his native fields: Ah! Foul disgrace.
Through various toils, at length to Britain came,
Espoused, so heaven ordained, an English Dame
and followed Christ; Their hope two infants dear,
But one, a hapless orphan slumbers here.

To bury her, the village children came,
And dropped choice flowers, and lisped her early fame,
And some that loved her most as if unblest,
Bedewed with tears the white wreaths on their breast

But she is gone and dwells in that abode
Where some of every clime shall joy in God

Near this place
Anna Maria Vassa lies buried,
Daughter of Gustavus Vassa the African
She died July 21^st 1797, aged 4 years

Stranger,
If simple village rhymes attract your attention, (as you pass by quietly thinking to yourself), let me tell you that a coloured child lies beside this simple stone, who is not like you.

Her father was born in Africa, from a race of people burned by the sun. He was taken, by force, from his home – how terrible!

At last, through suffering he came to Britain. He married an English lady as God wanted and became a Christian. They had two dear children but one, a poor orphan sleeps here. The village children came to bury her. They dropped specially chosen flowers and spoke about her fame. Those who loved her most cried and tears fell onto the white flowers hung around their necks. But she is gone and lives in heaven where people from every climate will rejoice in God.