
U
PON
my return to the United States a
few months ago, after the extraordinary series of adventure in the
South
Seas and elsewhere, of which an account is given in the following
pages,
accident threw me into the society of several gentlemen in Richmond,
Va.,
who felt deep interest in all matters relating to the regions I had
visited,
and who were constantly urging it upon me, as a duty, to give my
narrative
to the public. I had several reasons, however, for declining to do so,
some of which were of a nature altogether private, and concern no
person
but myself; others not so much so. One consideration which deterred me
was, that, having kept no journal during a greater portion of the time
in which I was absent, I feared I should not be able to write, from
mere
memory, a statement so minute and connected as to have the
appearance
of that truth it would really possess, barring only the natural and
unavoidable
exaggeration to which all of us are prone when detailing events which
have
had powerful influence in exciting the imaginative faculties. Another
reason
was, that the incidents to be narrated were of a nature so positively
marvellous,
that, unsupported as my assertions must necessarily be (except by the
evidence
of a single individual, and he a half-breed Indian), I could only hope
for belief among my family, and those of my friends who have had
reason,
[page x:] through life, to put faith in
my veracity
— the probability being that the public at large would regard what I
should
put forth as merely an impudent and ingenious fiction. A distrust in my
own abilities as a writer was, nevertheless, one of the principal
causes
which prevented me from complying with the suggestions of my advisers.

Among those gentlemen in Virginia who expressed the
greatest interest in my statement, more particularly in regard to that
portion of it which related to the Antarctic Ocean, was Mr. Poe, lately
editor of the Southern Literary Messenger, a monthly magazine,
published
by Mr. Thomas W. White, in the city of Richmond. He strongly advised
me,
among others, to prepare at once a full account of what I had seen and
undergone, and trust to the shrewdness and common sense of the public —
insisting, with great plausibility, that however roughly, as regards
mere
authorship, my book should be got up, its very uncouthness, if there
were
any, would give it all the better chance of being received as truth.

Notwithstanding this representation, I did not make
up my mind to do as he suggested. He afterward proposed (finding that I
would not stir in the matter) that I should allow him to draw up, in
his
own words, a narrative of the earlier portion of my adventures, from
facts
afforded by myself, publishing it in the Southern Messenger
under
the
garb of fiction. To this, perceiving no objection, I consented,
stipulating
only that my real name should be retained. Two numbers of the pretended
fiction appeared, consequently, in the Messenger for January and
February,
(1837), and, in order that it might certainly be regarded as fiction,
the
name of Mr. Poe was affixed to the articles in the table of contents of
the magazine.

The manner in which this
ruse was received
has induced me at length to undertake a regular compilation and
publication
of the adventures in question; for I found that, in spite of the air
[page
xi:] of fable which had been so ingeniously thrown around
that
portion of my statement which appeared in the Messenger (without
altering
or distorting a single fact), the public were still not at all disposed
to receive it as fable, and several letters were sent to Mr. P.'s
address,
distinctly expressing a conviction to the contrary. I thence concluded
that the facts of my narrative would prove of such a nature as to carry
with them sufficient evidence of their own authenticity, and that I had
consequently little to fear on the score of popular incredulity.