A few days ago I was reading an article by Marilynne Robinson, “Marilynne Robinson on Finding the Right Word,” published in the New York Times. Robinson references an author who believed “that we continue to exist so long as any word we say exists in a living mind” that we face two judgements: one at our physical deaths, and a second when our words have fulfilled all of their consequences and are finally erased from collective memory.
In a sense, this is relative to the theme of my blog, a resurrection of the words of my slaveholding ancestors and members of their communities from letters written by them in the 19th century. This will be more than speculation about life’s circumstances for this white yeoman farmer family and their black slaves in the 19th century south; this will be the slaveholding family’s own words; this is how it was – one family’s story.
The literal words of my ancestors and members of their communities were not written to be made public, though it is in the interest of history to make them known. Primary sources such as these letters shed the light of truth on history as it was actually lived. My purpose is to write about and share excerpts from selected letters chronologically to reveal their story.
Even in the face of primary sources, our interpretation of the past is always subject to the perceptions and proclivities of our own time. Thus, I will add one caveat to the presentation of my letter transcriptions: a quotation from William Faulkner’s ABSALOM, ABSALOM! In Faulkner’s tale the young Quentin Compson reflects upon the Sutpen family story as related to him by his father. Quentin at first sees the story with great clarity, “… he could see it; he might even have been there. Then he thought No. If I had been there I could not have seen it this plain.”