Narrative History Project
Our task was to give narrative life to a person, event, or “moment” from the history we have studied so far. We did further research to flesh out our understanding of your topic, wrote a synthesis of that research and then chose a narrative form to re-tell it creatively. I chose to do a series of letters written from one slave who ran away, to another slave who stayed on the plantation.
Foreword
Charly and Jordy grew up on the Ableton plantation together. They were both born to slave mothers who served the Abletons. When they were young, they served as playmates for the Ableton children. When it was time for the white children to go to school, Charly and Jordy were forced to clean the schoolroom while the white children learned how to read and write. By being in the room, though, Charly and Jordy both absorbed some of the information. Both were eager to learn how to read and write, so whenever they had a chance they would steal books to read at night when they went back to their shacks, and always kept an open ear to the teacher and one eye on the board as they cleaned. In doing so, they developed a minimal skill of reading and writing that set them apart from most other slaves. As teenagers, they continued to apply the skill by writing messages to each other in the sand, and whenever the chance came along, one person would write something while the other person would read it. A strong friendship was developed between the two over the years, but the difference in their personalities eventually led to their separation.
Charly had always had a mischievous personality, which led him to the occasional severe punishment, with Jordy always there to nurse him back to health. One time Charly crossed the line though, and talked back to his master when he told Charly to work harder, accompanying the command with the threat of a whipping. Charly, in his naturally rebellious state, replied that he was “workin’ as hawd as Ah cud, Ahm jis so black and stupid Ah cant remembah how to pick de cotton.” Charly’s lack of cooperation with Mr. Abelton had led him to several whippings in the past, but Charly had finally reached the breaking point. Fed up, Mr. Abelton cursed Charly and stalked off screaming intentions to sell him to Mr. Hogan down the road.
Mr. Hogan was notorious for his short temper and cruel treatments of slaves. He was rumored to be able to “crack” a slave in less than a week. Naturally, when Charly registered the reality of Mr. Abelton’s threats, he went into survival mode, and realized that his only option was to run away.
Jordy, trying to console him, attempted to help Charly come up with plans other than running away, because if Charly were to be caught after running away, he would end up in more trouble than he already was. But Jordy also knew he had to acknowledge the reality of Charly’s situation, and eventually, they both resolved that running away was f Charly’s only option. Jordy, in the act of self-preservation, knew that he wouldn’t be going with Charly. Hence, their relationship, which could only have been described as a brotherhood, was abruptly demolished.
Below is a series of letters written by Charly who escaped the plantation, to Jordy, who still lives on the plantation. Letters were sent via the Underground Railroad, and Jordy would receive the letters whenever a conductor traveled near the plantation. These characters are fictional, but their actions are historically accurate, and their stories and situations are similar to several exploits of nonfictional slaves.
Letter #1
Deah Jordy,
It bin to days now sins Ah left de farm, and Ah bin stayin out heah in de marsh de whol time. Ah almos got cot by de dogs wuns, but Ah layed in the water so dat dey couldn smell me. But Ah got myself all wet, and Ah jes layed ther in de cold all nite shiverin like a leef in de wintah. Ah still don no were Ahm gonna go, but Ah no Ah gotta get outta heah fast, or deyll katch me and send me down de river reel fast. Ah dunno where Ahl go, but Ah rekin Ahl jes keep walkin’ til I find mahself a howse wid a lite on de hitchin post fo de horses. You no thats de way Ah inten to get mah freedom, is de Undahgroun Railrode, Ah jes gotta find dat howse furst, and Ahl be on my way.
Ah sure wish you was comin wid me Jordy. Ah remembah dat time we stoll dem biskits and razberris out de kichen and ate jes like kings. Ahm gonne miss dose times, you bet. I still dont git why you aint comin wid me. Errebody and der motha nos you hate bein a slave. But dat’s why Ah gotta get outta heah Jordy, Ah think dat if Mastah Ableton tell me won mo time Ah aint bringin in enuf cotton, Ahl shoot im, and den all de white folks’d linch me.
Ah think Ah’m gonne hed tords Chalstown, and try tuh find wunna dem howses wid de lite. Ahl rite bac teh you when Ah get der, and if Ah don, dat meens I got cot and wil be bak at de farm soon enuf, but jes a lil mo’ bloody den Ah am now.
Yo bes fren
Charly Wirth.
Letter #2
Deah Jordy,
Ah think Ah found mahself wonna dem howses wid de lite, but I jes cant tell. Howmah sposed tah no de difrance tween a regelar lite and de lite uh freedom? Ahm kinda scered to go nock on de door, but Ah recken if Ah keep waitin out heah dem dogs’ll find me and Ahl getta good lickin when dey do. Ah’m mitey hongry to Jordy, Ah’ve ate all mah food and Ah dunno next tuh nothin bout what’ll make me sik in de fawrest if Ah eet it. But I sho do want freedom mo’n andything els. And like dat black women said to us when she took dat slave from de Jacksons, if Ah cant have liberty, Ahl take deth over anythin els.
Ah’ve gotta go nock on de door els I stahve te deth and de dogs come eet me. Ah wonduh if dem white familys up heah got good food lahk back on de farm. Lawd no’s Ah aint had nothen teh eet since day befo yesturday. If you don git anothr letter from me, jes make sho you don go threw Chalstown if you wanna run way to. Ah sho do mis you Jordy, Lawd, Ah cud use som uh yur company rite bout now.
Yo bes fren
Charly Wirth.
Letter #3
Deah Jordy,
Glory teh God! Dem rumahs bout de lites was true! Ah got mahself a nise, home cooked meel any time Ah want, and dese white peepl up heah ar jes fine. Dey make sho Ah’m comftoble fore dey even sit down. Dey sho is helpful to. At de next howse where parently dey’s white folks jes de same as dese wons. Dey tol me dat all Ah had teh do is cross a brij ovah de choptank rivah and Ahl be in delewhare.
Ah sho am exited bout gettin ovah to delewhare cus Ah lahk dese folks and everythin, but las nite, jes when I wuz bout teh fall asleep, Ah heah somethin barkin out in de woods, and Ah think I heah somethin rubbin up and sneffin on duh howse, and only God’ll no jes how mech Ah wus shakin in mah boots dat nite.
Jordy, Ah sho wish you wuz wid me. We’d be havin all kindsa ventures out heah, what wid all de runnin way from de huntin dogs and travelin at nite teh a white persons howse you don no. But if dat’s to much for yeh, Ahl getta job and buy yor freedom and have you shipped up heah all by mahself. Dat’s what Ah intend teh do when Ah git up to Rochestah. Ahl git a job and buy yeh from Mastah Ableton.
Yo bes fren
Charly Wirth.
Letter #4
Deah Jordy,
Ah’m in delewhare now, and it sho wuz easy gettin ovah heah. Dem nice white folks Ah wuz tellin you bout befo wocked me strate up to de bottom uh de brij and tol me dat all Ah had teh do wuz wock cross de brij and mor nice white folks like dem’d be waitin for me on de otha side uh de brij. The moon wuz full dat nite to, so Ah cood see everythin jes lahk in reg’lr daylite, Ah ges God wuz lookin out for me dat nite.
De people on de othah siduh de brige was nice to. Dey even had a cote waitin for me teh put on case Ah got to cold.
Fore Ah new it, a big black man stahted talkin teh me. He sed his name wuz William Still and he wuz askin bout de farm and Mastah Ableton. Ah told him tons bout you, and how you wuz to scured teh run away wid me, and he sed dat maybe he cood git some othah people teh cum and get you from de farm. He asked me a lotta kwestions, and he shore did take a whol lotta notes bout what I sed to. He sed he took notes on errebody dat came threw de Undahground Railrode. Aftah Ah git a nice warm meel and a good sleep, dey’d help me git teh Rochestah, where Ah’d be a free man. Oooh Jordy jus think! Bein abel teh sleep in any time Ah want, doin whatevah Ah want, and not takin orders from nobody, even Abe Linkin hisself. Ah so close teh bein free Jordy! Ah kin almost taste it!
Yo bes fren
Charly Wirth.
Letter #5
Deah Jordy,
Dis is de furst thing Ah evah rote as a free man. Can you beleev it Jordy? Ah’s a free man! Mistah Still tol me dat Ah still had teh be carful whin Ah go out, cuz ther’r still somma de bounie huntahs, but not so much as bak bah de farm.
Ah got mahself a job as a wagon drivah for de Union Army. Ahl be gettin dat monee teh buy yur freedom reel soon now Jordy. Somma de men in de Union Army aint much bettah then dose feds bak home. If Ah had any say on de mattah, Ah’d say dey’s jes doin it for de monee. Wonna dem spificaly calls himself Arlow. He a fed if Ah aint evah seen won. He meenah den a tiger in a cage, he is. Won time me and him was asined with cleanin all de mules, and stead a helpin me like he was sposed tuh, he made me wash all’em, and he wuz callin me a niggah de hol time. Ah figur by de time Ah wuz done, it took me nine ours in a row. Ah aint scered uh him tho. Ah reckin Ah kin git miself heah, Ah kin handel any white man with his briches to tite fo his own comfort.
Lots uh other white folks don treet me kind nuther. Dey always makin me be de erran boy and always makin me cleen up aftah dem. Nunna dem’s bad as Arlow tho, so Ah reckin Ahl jes keep workin til dey all turn intah Arlows, and Ahl be gettin outta dere fastah’n wonna dem skitish deer.
Der’s won white persun who aint don nothin teh me yet, and now that Ah think bout it, he aint done nothin to noone. Reckin Ah aint even herd him say nothin cept when Ah asked him his name and he jes sed August, but Ah no errebody’s callin’ him Gus, but Ah reckin Ahl jes call him August for now. Cides you, he gotta be mah best fren rite bout now.
Yo best fren,
Charly Wirth.
Letter #6
Deah Jordy,
I bin workin for the Army about to weeks now. I don think I like bein a wagon driver. I shore do like spellin and readin tho. Me and August, we’s bin workin tugether on spellin and readin. I alredy got much better at it to I think. But the peeple up here tock weerd. They all tock so short and sharp, and fast to. But me and August has gottin reel close ever cense he got in trubble with Captin Jensen for not doin sumthin rite. He got his hole rashun takin away to and I shared mine with him, and we bin workin tugether ever since.
Couple days ago, a awful thing happened to me. I was just mindin my bisness at dinner won nite and I got the urge to go to the bathroom. Well, when I tride to get outta the bathroom, I found that it was lawked, and I realized I was gonna miss role call befor evenin and I new that Captin Jensen wood gimme a good lickin. Well, I was stuck in that stinkin bathroom for mor then a our and a haff befor August come to find me and get me outta ther.
All I can tell you is I cudnt wock rite after that. That Captin Jensen shore nos how to give a good lickin. August toled me that Arlow was behind the hole thing, and I reckin I always new that deep down, I just didn reely recugnise it. But when I did, I got madder then a mama ber whos missin her cub. So you bet I marched rite up to that Arlow and I came up to him all red hot, but somethin kewled me down then, and I tocked to him all calmlike and I told him that if he did somethin like that agin he better be abel to face a negro whos fed up with white peeple, and has bin for 20 yeers, and is gonna start doin sumthin bout it to. And I just kept lookin at him til finally he wocked away with a strange sorta xpression on his face.
Oh Jordy, it shore did feel good to stand up to wonna them self richus white folks. I never did get the oppurtunity neether, since dey’s all workin tugether to shut us blacks up, and keep us shut up to. Well Jordy, you nos better’n anybody nos how sik I am of them white folks who think they’s so much better then us colored folk. No sir, no mor white peeple gonna tell Charly Wirth what he can and cant do. I aint gonna stand for it, and neether shood you.
Yor best frend
Charly Wirth.
Letter #7
Dear Jordy,
Somthin intresting happined to me today. I had a white man apolugize to me. You no whats even mor suprising? The man that apolugized to me today was Arlow. I dunno what got into him, but befor I nos it, the mans tellin me he sorry for what he dun, and that he don’t no why he’d do sumthing like that. So I tells him that its ok and that God’d furgive him if he didn’t do it agin and treated all of us blacks with sum mor respect. Then we shook hands and I think we bekame sumthing close to what friends is.
That same day, them Rebels did a sneek attack on us when we was stashuned in Antietam, Maryland and they was shootin at us pritty hevy, and I see Arlow was hit in the sholder, and I reckin we was frends no, so I better get him outta ther pritty fast. Next thing I nos I’m draggin him threw all the trees and back to Andtietam. I ran him strate back to the hospitle. I had to go help the other folk back at the battle, but by the time I got back, it was nite time, and I reckin the battle was done, cuz everybody was walkin round and cleanin up the bodys and everythin. Oh lawdy, ther was a lotta blood on the ground.
Soon as I cood see what I cood help with I dove rite in. I figure I was up all nite helpin bandige the folk who was hurtin pretty bad and coverin’ up the peeple who went to be with God. I was lookin’ for August the hole time, but I coodn’t find him. I looked at all the faces of the peeple I covered up, but I didn’t see no face belongin to August, thank the Lawd.
The next day I went to visit Arlow in the hospitle. He was doin all rite, he sed, and he thanked me a hole lot for savin him and everything. I told him it was nothin and then he invited me to dinner with his family at his howse when we got bak to Rochester. I told him that sounded nice. I shore wish you was abel to come with me, else I’m the darkest thing for a corter of a mile in that nayberhood. I bin savin up monee, but the Army shore dusn’t pay very well. But you no that I’m workin hard so we can see each other soon.
Yor best frend,
Charly Wirth.
Letter #8
Dear Jordy,
Captin Jensen gave us the day to go visit our familys. I didn hav any, so Arlow invited me to that dinner with his family. His howse shore is nice. I reckin its to times the size of Mastah Ableton’s howse. Arlow got to kids and a wife. I dont think the wife was to happy to have a negro in her howse, cuz she was treatin me kinda cold, tell Arlow tole her what I done for him, with savin him and all, then she was gettin outta her way to make shore I was comfterble. I never had a white person wait on me, but I kinda liked it, and I reckin I cooda gotten used to it, cept that prolly wasn’t gonna happin for a wile, since the white folks still think they’s better then us.
I think that by the end of that dinner mis Arlow kinda liked me. She was askin me the hole time bout how I escaped and what the trane on the Underground Railrode was like. I had to tell her that ther was no trane, and that I wocked the hole way. She was so intristed with me I reckin she sat ther askin’ me all sorts a questuns for at leest a cupple hours. I tol her that I didnt like workin as a wagon driver, no ma’am, but I shore did still wanna work for the Army, and suport the caws. Then she told me bout how her cuzin was a jurnalist for the Army and that maybe I cood inturn with him or sumthing, cept she sed I’d hav to lern how to rite. When I told her I alredy new my alfebet, furst she laffed at me, but when she saw I was sereus, she stopped laffin and sed I was the most intrestin negro she ever met. Then I told her all bout you, and how you was just like me. So she thot that maybe she’d like to meet you to. She sed that she was gonna try and get you up here. I don’ no how she intends to do that, but I reckin I’d be happy if you was here, no matter wich way you get here. I gess that now I no that not all the white folks is bad, but I still have a mitey hard time tryin not to juje them from the getgo, but its so hard cuz they shore don’t giv us blacks a chanc to prove ourselvs before we’s jujed.
Yor best frend
Charly Wirth.
Letter #9
Dear Jordy,
I fownd August today. Turns out he was killed bak in Maryland, God rest his sol. Captin Jensen came and told me persenaly. Captin Jensen sed he was shot in the hed, so it didnt hurt him to bad and he went to go be with God rite away. I’m aful sorry about August. We shore didnt tock much, but he just wasn’t the tipe a talkin person, so I still reckin we was good frends. I’m goin to his fewneral tuhmorrow and I’m goin to miss him a hole lot, thats for shore. I bet you wooda liked him to.
After I found out bout August, I had to go meet with mis Arlow’s cuzin. That was the last thing I wanted to do after findin out bout August, but I reckin I had to go meet him if I didnt wandna be a wagon driver no more. When I met him, he made me rite a sampel riting for him. He sed my spelling was uhtroshus, but he sed he thot he cood fix it pritty easy, cuz it seemed to him that I new my alfebet pritty well at that point. So he sed he’d work with me, and I’d be a desent jurnalist in no time. Maybe in a littel bit you gonna be readin wonna my articuls.
Yor best frend
Charly Wirth.
Letter #10
Dear Jordy,
I’m sorry I haven’t ritten to you in long wile, but Mr. Huxley’s been working me real hard. I think all that hard work is starting to pay off thoh. My spelling’s alredy gotten much better. Mr. Huxley said he mite even consider printing one of my articles, it’s about the battle of Antietam, espeshilly about Arlow and August. I was even able to get my hands on a picture from the battle. That picture was takin from something called a degerratype. It takes little, well, I don’t really know how to discribe it, but you can see something that happined a long time ago on a peece of paper.
I think I’m finelly starting to proov myself to the white people. Sometimes, they even ask me for my advise.
Life sure is good here. I’m making 5 dollers a week, so I reckin I’ll be able to buy your freedom in no time.
Your best friend,
Charly Wirth
Foreword
Charly and Jordy grew up on the Ableton plantation together. They were both born to slave mothers who served the Abletons. When they were young, they served as playmates for the Ableton children. When it was time for the white children to go to school, Charly and Jordy were forced to clean the schoolroom while the white children learned how to read and write. By being in the room, though, Charly and Jordy both absorbed some of the information. Both were eager to learn how to read and write, so whenever they had a chance they would steal books to read at night when they went back to their shacks, and always kept an open ear to the teacher and one eye on the board as they cleaned. In doing so, they developed a minimal skill of reading and writing that set them apart from most other slaves. As teenagers, they continued to apply the skill by writing messages to each other in the sand, and whenever the chance came along, one person would write something while the other person would read it. A strong friendship was developed between the two over the years, but the difference in their personalities eventually led to their separation.
Charly had always had a mischievous personality, which led him to the occasional severe punishment, with Jordy always there to nurse him back to health. One time Charly crossed the line though, and talked back to his master when he told Charly to work harder, accompanying the command with the threat of a whipping. Charly, in his naturally rebellious state, replied that he was “workin’ as hawd as Ah cud, Ahm jis so black and stupid Ah cant remembah how to pick de cotton.” Charly’s lack of cooperation with Mr. Abelton had led him to several whippings in the past, but Charly had finally reached the breaking point. Fed up, Mr. Abelton cursed Charly and stalked off screaming intentions to sell him to Mr. Hogan down the road.
Mr. Hogan was notorious for his short temper and cruel treatments of slaves. He was rumored to be able to “crack” a slave in less than a week. Naturally, when Charly registered the reality of Mr. Abelton’s threats, he went into survival mode, and realized that his only option was to run away.
Jordy, trying to console him, attempted to help Charly come up with plans other than running away, because if Charly were to be caught after running away, he would end up in more trouble than he already was. But Jordy also knew he had to acknowledge the reality of Charly’s situation, and eventually, they both resolved that running away was f Charly’s only option. Jordy, in the act of self-preservation, knew that he wouldn’t be going with Charly. Hence, their relationship, which could only have been described as a brotherhood, was abruptly demolished.
Below is a series of letters written by Charly who escaped the plantation, to Jordy, who still lives on the plantation. Letters were sent via the Underground Railroad, and Jordy would receive the letters whenever a conductor traveled near the plantation. These characters are fictional, but their actions are historically accurate, and their stories and situations are similar to several exploits of nonfictional slaves.
Letter #1
Deah Jordy,
It bin to days now sins Ah left de farm, and Ah bin stayin out heah in de marsh de whol time. Ah almos got cot by de dogs wuns, but Ah layed in the water so dat dey couldn smell me. But Ah got myself all wet, and Ah jes layed ther in de cold all nite shiverin like a leef in de wintah. Ah still don no were Ahm gonna go, but Ah no Ah gotta get outta heah fast, or deyll katch me and send me down de river reel fast. Ah dunno where Ahl go, but Ah rekin Ahl jes keep walkin’ til I find mahself a howse wid a lite on de hitchin post fo de horses. You no thats de way Ah inten to get mah freedom, is de Undahgroun Railrode, Ah jes gotta find dat howse furst, and Ahl be on my way.
Ah sure wish you was comin wid me Jordy. Ah remembah dat time we stoll dem biskits and razberris out de kichen and ate jes like kings. Ahm gonne miss dose times, you bet. I still dont git why you aint comin wid me. Errebody and der motha nos you hate bein a slave. But dat’s why Ah gotta get outta heah Jordy, Ah think dat if Mastah Ableton tell me won mo time Ah aint bringin in enuf cotton, Ahl shoot im, and den all de white folks’d linch me.
Ah think Ah’m gonne hed tords Chalstown, and try tuh find wunna dem howses wid de lite. Ahl rite bac teh you when Ah get der, and if Ah don, dat meens I got cot and wil be bak at de farm soon enuf, but jes a lil mo’ bloody den Ah am now.
Yo bes fren
Charly Wirth.
Letter #2
Deah Jordy,
Ah think Ah found mahself wonna dem howses wid de lite, but I jes cant tell. Howmah sposed tah no de difrance tween a regelar lite and de lite uh freedom? Ahm kinda scered to go nock on de door, but Ah recken if Ah keep waitin out heah dem dogs’ll find me and Ahl getta good lickin when dey do. Ah’m mitey hongry to Jordy, Ah’ve ate all mah food and Ah dunno next tuh nothin bout what’ll make me sik in de fawrest if Ah eet it. But I sho do want freedom mo’n andything els. And like dat black women said to us when she took dat slave from de Jacksons, if Ah cant have liberty, Ahl take deth over anythin els.
Ah’ve gotta go nock on de door els I stahve te deth and de dogs come eet me. Ah wonduh if dem white familys up heah got good food lahk back on de farm. Lawd no’s Ah aint had nothen teh eet since day befo yesturday. If you don git anothr letter from me, jes make sho you don go threw Chalstown if you wanna run way to. Ah sho do mis you Jordy, Lawd, Ah cud use som uh yur company rite bout now.
Yo bes fren
Charly Wirth.
Letter #3
Deah Jordy,
Glory teh God! Dem rumahs bout de lites was true! Ah got mahself a nise, home cooked meel any time Ah want, and dese white peepl up heah ar jes fine. Dey make sho Ah’m comftoble fore dey even sit down. Dey sho is helpful to. At de next howse where parently dey’s white folks jes de same as dese wons. Dey tol me dat all Ah had teh do is cross a brij ovah de choptank rivah and Ahl be in delewhare.
Ah sho am exited bout gettin ovah to delewhare cus Ah lahk dese folks and everythin, but las nite, jes when I wuz bout teh fall asleep, Ah heah somethin barkin out in de woods, and Ah think I heah somethin rubbin up and sneffin on duh howse, and only God’ll no jes how mech Ah wus shakin in mah boots dat nite.
Jordy, Ah sho wish you wuz wid me. We’d be havin all kindsa ventures out heah, what wid all de runnin way from de huntin dogs and travelin at nite teh a white persons howse you don no. But if dat’s to much for yeh, Ahl getta job and buy yor freedom and have you shipped up heah all by mahself. Dat’s what Ah intend teh do when Ah git up to Rochestah. Ahl git a job and buy yeh from Mastah Ableton.
Yo bes fren
Charly Wirth.
Letter #4
Deah Jordy,
Ah’m in delewhare now, and it sho wuz easy gettin ovah heah. Dem nice white folks Ah wuz tellin you bout befo wocked me strate up to de bottom uh de brij and tol me dat all Ah had teh do wuz wock cross de brij and mor nice white folks like dem’d be waitin for me on de otha side uh de brij. The moon wuz full dat nite to, so Ah cood see everythin jes lahk in reg’lr daylite, Ah ges God wuz lookin out for me dat nite.
De people on de othah siduh de brige was nice to. Dey even had a cote waitin for me teh put on case Ah got to cold.
Fore Ah new it, a big black man stahted talkin teh me. He sed his name wuz William Still and he wuz askin bout de farm and Mastah Ableton. Ah told him tons bout you, and how you wuz to scured teh run away wid me, and he sed dat maybe he cood git some othah people teh cum and get you from de farm. He asked me a lotta kwestions, and he shore did take a whol lotta notes bout what I sed to. He sed he took notes on errebody dat came threw de Undahground Railrode. Aftah Ah git a nice warm meel and a good sleep, dey’d help me git teh Rochestah, where Ah’d be a free man. Oooh Jordy jus think! Bein abel teh sleep in any time Ah want, doin whatevah Ah want, and not takin orders from nobody, even Abe Linkin hisself. Ah so close teh bein free Jordy! Ah kin almost taste it!
Yo bes fren
Charly Wirth.
Letter #5
Deah Jordy,
Dis is de furst thing Ah evah rote as a free man. Can you beleev it Jordy? Ah’s a free man! Mistah Still tol me dat Ah still had teh be carful whin Ah go out, cuz ther’r still somma de bounie huntahs, but not so much as bak bah de farm.
Ah got mahself a job as a wagon drivah for de Union Army. Ahl be gettin dat monee teh buy yur freedom reel soon now Jordy. Somma de men in de Union Army aint much bettah then dose feds bak home. If Ah had any say on de mattah, Ah’d say dey’s jes doin it for de monee. Wonna dem spificaly calls himself Arlow. He a fed if Ah aint evah seen won. He meenah den a tiger in a cage, he is. Won time me and him was asined with cleanin all de mules, and stead a helpin me like he was sposed tuh, he made me wash all’em, and he wuz callin me a niggah de hol time. Ah figur by de time Ah wuz done, it took me nine ours in a row. Ah aint scered uh him tho. Ah reckin Ah kin git miself heah, Ah kin handel any white man with his briches to tite fo his own comfort.
Lots uh other white folks don treet me kind nuther. Dey always makin me be de erran boy and always makin me cleen up aftah dem. Nunna dem’s bad as Arlow tho, so Ah reckin Ahl jes keep workin til dey all turn intah Arlows, and Ahl be gettin outta dere fastah’n wonna dem skitish deer.
Der’s won white persun who aint don nothin teh me yet, and now that Ah think bout it, he aint done nothin to noone. Reckin Ah aint even herd him say nothin cept when Ah asked him his name and he jes sed August, but Ah no errebody’s callin’ him Gus, but Ah reckin Ahl jes call him August for now. Cides you, he gotta be mah best fren rite bout now.
Yo best fren,
Charly Wirth.
Letter #6
Deah Jordy,
I bin workin for the Army about to weeks now. I don think I like bein a wagon driver. I shore do like spellin and readin tho. Me and August, we’s bin workin tugether on spellin and readin. I alredy got much better at it to I think. But the peeple up here tock weerd. They all tock so short and sharp, and fast to. But me and August has gottin reel close ever cense he got in trubble with Captin Jensen for not doin sumthin rite. He got his hole rashun takin away to and I shared mine with him, and we bin workin tugether ever since.
Couple days ago, a awful thing happened to me. I was just mindin my bisness at dinner won nite and I got the urge to go to the bathroom. Well, when I tride to get outta the bathroom, I found that it was lawked, and I realized I was gonna miss role call befor evenin and I new that Captin Jensen wood gimme a good lickin. Well, I was stuck in that stinkin bathroom for mor then a our and a haff befor August come to find me and get me outta ther.
All I can tell you is I cudnt wock rite after that. That Captin Jensen shore nos how to give a good lickin. August toled me that Arlow was behind the hole thing, and I reckin I always new that deep down, I just didn reely recugnise it. But when I did, I got madder then a mama ber whos missin her cub. So you bet I marched rite up to that Arlow and I came up to him all red hot, but somethin kewled me down then, and I tocked to him all calmlike and I told him that if he did somethin like that agin he better be abel to face a negro whos fed up with white peeple, and has bin for 20 yeers, and is gonna start doin sumthin bout it to. And I just kept lookin at him til finally he wocked away with a strange sorta xpression on his face.
Oh Jordy, it shore did feel good to stand up to wonna them self richus white folks. I never did get the oppurtunity neether, since dey’s all workin tugether to shut us blacks up, and keep us shut up to. Well Jordy, you nos better’n anybody nos how sik I am of them white folks who think they’s so much better then us colored folk. No sir, no mor white peeple gonna tell Charly Wirth what he can and cant do. I aint gonna stand for it, and neether shood you.
Yor best frend
Charly Wirth.
Letter #7
Dear Jordy,
Somthin intresting happined to me today. I had a white man apolugize to me. You no whats even mor suprising? The man that apolugized to me today was Arlow. I dunno what got into him, but befor I nos it, the mans tellin me he sorry for what he dun, and that he don’t no why he’d do sumthing like that. So I tells him that its ok and that God’d furgive him if he didn’t do it agin and treated all of us blacks with sum mor respect. Then we shook hands and I think we bekame sumthing close to what friends is.
That same day, them Rebels did a sneek attack on us when we was stashuned in Antietam, Maryland and they was shootin at us pritty hevy, and I see Arlow was hit in the sholder, and I reckin we was frends no, so I better get him outta ther pritty fast. Next thing I nos I’m draggin him threw all the trees and back to Andtietam. I ran him strate back to the hospitle. I had to go help the other folk back at the battle, but by the time I got back, it was nite time, and I reckin the battle was done, cuz everybody was walkin round and cleanin up the bodys and everythin. Oh lawdy, ther was a lotta blood on the ground.
Soon as I cood see what I cood help with I dove rite in. I figure I was up all nite helpin bandige the folk who was hurtin pretty bad and coverin’ up the peeple who went to be with God. I was lookin’ for August the hole time, but I coodn’t find him. I looked at all the faces of the peeple I covered up, but I didn’t see no face belongin to August, thank the Lawd.
The next day I went to visit Arlow in the hospitle. He was doin all rite, he sed, and he thanked me a hole lot for savin him and everything. I told him it was nothin and then he invited me to dinner with his family at his howse when we got bak to Rochester. I told him that sounded nice. I shore wish you was abel to come with me, else I’m the darkest thing for a corter of a mile in that nayberhood. I bin savin up monee, but the Army shore dusn’t pay very well. But you no that I’m workin hard so we can see each other soon.
Yor best frend,
Charly Wirth.
Letter #8
Dear Jordy,
Captin Jensen gave us the day to go visit our familys. I didn hav any, so Arlow invited me to that dinner with his family. His howse shore is nice. I reckin its to times the size of Mastah Ableton’s howse. Arlow got to kids and a wife. I dont think the wife was to happy to have a negro in her howse, cuz she was treatin me kinda cold, tell Arlow tole her what I done for him, with savin him and all, then she was gettin outta her way to make shore I was comfterble. I never had a white person wait on me, but I kinda liked it, and I reckin I cooda gotten used to it, cept that prolly wasn’t gonna happin for a wile, since the white folks still think they’s better then us.
I think that by the end of that dinner mis Arlow kinda liked me. She was askin me the hole time bout how I escaped and what the trane on the Underground Railrode was like. I had to tell her that ther was no trane, and that I wocked the hole way. She was so intristed with me I reckin she sat ther askin’ me all sorts a questuns for at leest a cupple hours. I tol her that I didnt like workin as a wagon driver, no ma’am, but I shore did still wanna work for the Army, and suport the caws. Then she told me bout how her cuzin was a jurnalist for the Army and that maybe I cood inturn with him or sumthing, cept she sed I’d hav to lern how to rite. When I told her I alredy new my alfebet, furst she laffed at me, but when she saw I was sereus, she stopped laffin and sed I was the most intrestin negro she ever met. Then I told her all bout you, and how you was just like me. So she thot that maybe she’d like to meet you to. She sed that she was gonna try and get you up here. I don’ no how she intends to do that, but I reckin I’d be happy if you was here, no matter wich way you get here. I gess that now I no that not all the white folks is bad, but I still have a mitey hard time tryin not to juje them from the getgo, but its so hard cuz they shore don’t giv us blacks a chanc to prove ourselvs before we’s jujed.
Yor best frend
Charly Wirth.
Letter #9
Dear Jordy,
I fownd August today. Turns out he was killed bak in Maryland, God rest his sol. Captin Jensen came and told me persenaly. Captin Jensen sed he was shot in the hed, so it didnt hurt him to bad and he went to go be with God rite away. I’m aful sorry about August. We shore didnt tock much, but he just wasn’t the tipe a talkin person, so I still reckin we was good frends. I’m goin to his fewneral tuhmorrow and I’m goin to miss him a hole lot, thats for shore. I bet you wooda liked him to.
After I found out bout August, I had to go meet with mis Arlow’s cuzin. That was the last thing I wanted to do after findin out bout August, but I reckin I had to go meet him if I didnt wandna be a wagon driver no more. When I met him, he made me rite a sampel riting for him. He sed my spelling was uhtroshus, but he sed he thot he cood fix it pritty easy, cuz it seemed to him that I new my alfebet pritty well at that point. So he sed he’d work with me, and I’d be a desent jurnalist in no time. Maybe in a littel bit you gonna be readin wonna my articuls.
Yor best frend
Charly Wirth.
Letter #10
Dear Jordy,
I’m sorry I haven’t ritten to you in long wile, but Mr. Huxley’s been working me real hard. I think all that hard work is starting to pay off thoh. My spelling’s alredy gotten much better. Mr. Huxley said he mite even consider printing one of my articles, it’s about the battle of Antietam, espeshilly about Arlow and August. I was even able to get my hands on a picture from the battle. That picture was takin from something called a degerratype. It takes little, well, I don’t really know how to discribe it, but you can see something that happined a long time ago on a peece of paper.
I think I’m finelly starting to proov myself to the white people. Sometimes, they even ask me for my advise.
Life sure is good here. I’m making 5 dollers a week, so I reckin I’ll be able to buy your freedom in no time.
Your best friend,
Charly Wirth
Narrative History Reflection
- I connected with this project through the specific type of dialect and writing behavior that I had to apply throughout the story. By putting so much thought into how a barely literate slave would spell certain words or phrase certain sentences, while still maintaining political and historical accuracy, I was able to connect to my project on a level much higher than if I had just been writing letters from a white man to another.
- The hardest part about this project was trying to figure out how I was going to make Charly spell certain words, especially bridge. I found that I had to constantly think about how somebody with the literacy level of a Kindergardener would spell something as complex as "atrocious". Then I would find myself completely over thinking the entire process, and Charly would be able to sell "forest" and not "I", so I went through several different ways to spell several different words, which made it hard to make the spelling uniform throughout the series.
- Fitting the historical context into my narrative was a fun challenge for me, because very few slaves were even remotely literate, so I had to come up with a reason for why the characters would be able to write letters to each other. The other challenge with making my story historically accurate was how Jordy was going to receive the letter. These challenges led to me having to be both creative and resourceful, by using plausible organizations or events, such as the Underground Railroad, to meet my needs and solve my conflicts with historical accuracy.