To The Gold Coast for Gold: A Personal Narrative. Vol. I

In Short

This narrative chronicles the initial legs of a nineteenth-century expedition down the West African coast toward the rich gold-bearing lands of the Gulf of Guinea. Blending geographical observation, historical research, and personal memoir, Sir Richard Francis Burton records his journey aboard steamships and through coastal ports. The work serves as a practical assessment of the region's commercial potential—particularly its unexploited mineral wealth—and a detailed record of the harbors, flora, native populations, and colonial infrastructure encountered along the way. It endures as an unvarnished window into British imperial ambitions and Victorian travel literature.

The Story

The narrative begins with a retrospective look at the author's previous writings from two decades earlier, establishing the economic premise of the voyage: the vast, underutilized gold deposits of West Africa. Burton details how native populations extract gold using primitive pits, clay pots, and river panning without modern quartz-crushers or mercury. Pointing to the historic yields that enriched mediaeval Europe, he argues that the continent holds the potential to rival multiple Californias if European capital, modern machinery, and systematic survey methods are properly applied.

With this commercial thesis established, the narrative turns to the voyage itself. Departing England, Burton sails past Trafalgar and Cape St. Vincent, navigating down the Iberian coast to Lisbon. His stay in the Portuguese capital allows for a keen assessment of the city's architectural landmarks, including the Belem Monastery and the Castle of São Jorge, as well as an evaluation of the political and physical changes occurring since his last visit sixteen years prior.

Continuing southward, the vessel reaches Madeira. Burton delivers an exhaustive description of Funchal's lush, volcanic landscape, contrasting its vivid green terraces and agricultural fortifications with the burnt hues of Southern Europe. He examines the local economy, detailing the production of wines and traditional foods like bacalháo (dried codfish) and native cakes, while offering sharp observations on Madeiran social classes, religious life, and historical administrative reforms.

The journey proceeds to the Canary Islands via regional steamship lines. In Tenerife, Burton explores the island's geography, the dramatic trachytic dome of the Peak, and the historical catacombs of the ancient Guanches. He examines mummified remains, analyzes the island's defense histories—including failed British naval attacks—and studies the meticulous agricultural methods required to cultivate the cochineal insect on cactus plantations. Moving onward to Grand Canary, he documents the specific soil preparations and seasonal crops essential to the trade.

Reaching the African continent, the vessel stops at Senegambia and Goree. Burton compares French colonial methods with British administration, praising the former for its infrastructure investment and decisive governance while critiquing British hesitations. At the Gambia River, he recalls inland trips to Cape St. Mary and the crumbling ruins of Fort James. The volume culminates with an arrival at Sierra Leone. Burton inspects Freetown's cathedral and bustling vegetable markets, visits historic sites like Bance Island with its abandoned slave-trading vaults, and prepares for the final leg toward the Gold Coast.

How It Unfolds

Setting sail for the South Leaving the English Channel behind, the voyage begins with a run down the Iberian peninsula past historic capes. Burton charts the maritime approach to the Tagus River, noting coastal lighthouses before anchoring off Lisbon's Belem Tower to observe the city at sunrise.

Surveying the Tagus and Funchal After evaluating Lisbon's urban landscape and historical monuments, the author sails to Madeira. He paints a granular picture of Funchal's volcanic slopes, detailing its indigenous flora, local cuisine, complex social hierarchies, and shifting religious practices.

Investigating Canary island antiquities Navigating via inter-island steamers to Tenerife and Grand Canary, Burton shifts his attention to historical and scientific inquiry. He examines Guanche mummies in rock catacombs, recounts historic battles against British admirals, and details the rigorous mechanics of cochineal farming.

Comparing colonial outposts Reaching Senegambia, the narrative analyzes European influence in West Africa. Burton contrasts French infrastructural developments at Dakar and Goree with British administration at the Gambia, stopping to explore ancient fortifications and river estuaries.

Reaching the West African hubs Anchoring at Sierra Leone, Burton explores Freetown's markets, architectural failures, and surrounding geography. He concludes this portion of the expedition by recruiting local Krumen workers and surveying the abandoned slaving infrastructure of Bance Island.

The People

Burton serves as the central voice and driving agent of the expedition, driven by a desire to demonstrate the untapped mineral wealth of West Africa to British investors. Standing in his way are outdated colonial policies, local inefficiencies, and the physical hazards of African travel. Through his journey, his perspective remains that of an uncompromising, intensely observant Victorian polymath, confident in his geopolitical judgments.

Commander Cameron appears as Burton's primary traveling companion during the African coastal legs. Seeking to organize the logistical backbone of their onward expedition to the goldfields, Cameron collaborates with Burton in hiring local labor, such as Krumen oarsmen, while navigating the bureaucratic and physical delays of colonial ports.

Don Abel de Aguilar, a Russian consul and cochineal producer met in the Canaries, provides Burton with detailed technical memoirs on local agriculture. His contributions allow Burton to systematically present the complex three-crop cycle of the cochineal industry to his reading audience.

The narrative also features historical figures invoked to illustrate the region's past. Portuguese navigators like Lanzarote and Prince Henry the Navigator represent the early wave of European exploitation, while military commanders like Corregidor Don Antonio de Ayala exemplify the local defense of the Canary Islands against British naval sieges.

In Its Own Voice

"The stuff is drawn up by ropes in clay pots, or calabashes, and thus a workman at the bottom widens the pit to a pyriform shape; tunnelling, however, is unknown."

Burton explains the primitive and hazardous techniques utilized by native West African miners near Akim and Wassaw.

"And now the great trachytic dome, towering in the translucent air, was the marking feature."

The author describes the formidable physical presence of Tenerife's volcanic peak as his vessel navigates the Canary waters.

"A single rusty tower, with toy-battlements, pins down along ridge-back, evidently borrowed from a barn; the light yellow-wash is mildewed and weather-stained..."

Burton offers a blunt, unsparing critique of St. George's Cathedral during his survey of Freetown, Sierra Leone.

What It's Really About

At its core, the text is an argument for modern imperial enterprise and scientific resource extraction. Burton uses his travelogue to contrast what he views as archaic, unorganized local methods with the industrial capabilities of Victorian Britain. Underneath the daily travel observations lies a persistent inquiry into why vast natural resources—specifically African gold—remain underdeveloped while European capital seeks wealth elsewhere.

Additionally, the book functions as a comparative study of European colonial systems. By evaluating Portuguese history, Spanish island management, French infrastructure in Senegambia, and British governance in Sierra Leone, Burton interrogates which administrative models prove most effective in opening trade, maintaining order, and securing long-term economic dominance.

Why Read It Today

Modern readers interested in nineteenth-century travel literature, imperial history, or African economic geography will find this volume a dense, rewarding document. Burton writes with an encyclopedic scope, combining geology, botany, history, and linguistic observations into a highly detailed narrative canvas. Reading the work offers an unedited look into the mind of one of the Victorian era's most famous and polarizing explorers.

However, modern audiences must navigate significant period challenges. The prose is densely layered with untranslated Latin, Portuguese, and Spanish phrases, alongside technical geological terms and extensive statistical tables. Readers will also encounter nineteenth-century racial attitudes, casual cultural chauvinism, and a blunt imperialist ethos that reflects the prejudices of its author's time.

For those willing to engage with these historical realities, the book provides an invaluable firsthand account of Atlantic maritime routes and West African coastal life on the eve of the late-nineteenth-century scramble for Africa. What stays with the reader is Burton's relentless curiosity and the sheer breadth of his observational capacity.