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slavery

Identity

Formerly enslaved man's response to his 'master' wanting him back is a literary masterpiece

"I would rather stay here and starve — and die, if it come to that — than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters."

A photo of Jordan Anderson.

In 1825, at the approximate age of 8, Jordan Anderson (sometimes spelled "Jordon") was sold into slavery and would live as a servant of the Anderson family for 39 years. In 1864, the Union Army camped out on the Anderson plantation and Jordan and his wife, Amanda, were liberated. The couple eventually made it safely to Dayton, Ohio, where, in July 1865, Jordan received a letter from his former owner, Colonel P.H. Anderson. The letter kindly asked Jordan to return to work on the plantation because it had fallen into disarray during the war.

On Aug. 7, 1865, Jordan dictated his response through his new boss, Valentine Winters, and it was published in the Cincinnati Commercial. The letter, entitled "Letter from a Freedman to His Old Master," was not only hilarious, but it showed compassion, defiance, and dignity. That year, the letter would be republished in theNew York Daily Tribune and Lydia Marie Child's The Freedman's Book.

The letter mentions a "Miss Mary" (Col. Anderson's Wife), "Martha" (Col. Anderson's daughter), Henry (most likely Col. Anderson's son), and George Carter (a local carpenter).

Dayton, Ohio,
August 7, 1865
To My Old Master, Colonel P.H. Anderson, Big Spring, Tennessee

Sir: I got your letter, and was glad to find that you had not forgotten Jordon, and that you wanted me to come back and live with you again, promising to do better for me than anybody else can. I have often felt uneasy about you. I thought the Yankees would have hung you long before this, for harboring Rebs they found at your house. I suppose they never heard about your going to Colonel Martin's to kill the Union soldier that was left by his company in their stable. Although you shot at me twice before I left you, I did not want to hear of your being hurt, and am glad you are still living. It would do me good to go back to the dear old home again, and see Miss Mary and Miss Martha and Allen, Esther, Green, and Lee. Give my love to them all, and tell them I hope we will meet in the better world, if not in this. I would have gone back to see you all when I was working in the Nashville Hospital, but one of the neighbors told me that Henry intended to shoot me if he ever got a chance.

I want to know particularly what the good chance is you propose to give me. I am doing tolerably well here. I get twenty-five dollars a month, with victuals and clothing; have a comfortable home for Mandy, — the folks call her Mrs. Anderson, — and the children — Milly, Jane, and Grundy — go to school and are learning well. The teacher says Grundy has a head for a preacher. They go to Sunday school, and Mandy and me attend church regularly. We are kindly treated. Sometimes we overhear others saying, "Them colored people were slaves" down in Tennessee. The children feel hurt when they hear such remarks; but I tell them it was no disgrace in Tennessee to belong to Colonel Anderson. Many darkeys would have been proud, as I used to be, to call you master. Now if you will write and say what wages you will give me, I will be better able to decide whether it would be to my advantage to move back again.

As to my freedom, which you say I can have, there is nothing to be gained on that score, as I got my free papers in 1864 from the Provost-Marshal-General of the Department of Nashville. Mandy says she would be afraid to go back without some proof that you were disposed to treat us justly and kindly; and we have concluded to test your sincerity by asking you to send us our wages for the time we served you. This will make us forget and forgive old scores, and rely on your justice and friendship in the future. I served you faithfully for thirty-two years, and Mandy twenty years. At twenty-five dollars a month for me, and two dollars a week for Mandy, our earnings would amount to eleven thousand six hundred and eighty dollars. Add to this the interest for the time our wages have been kept back, and deduct what you paid for our clothing, and three doctor's visits to me, and pulling a tooth for Mandy, and the balance will show what we are in justice entitled to. Please send the money by Adams's Express, in care of V. Winters, Esq., Dayton, Ohio. If you fail to pay us for faithful labors in the past, we can have little faith in your promises in the future. We trust the good Maker has opened your eyes to the wrongs which you and your fathers have done to me and my fathers, in making us toil for you for generations without recompense. Here I draw my wages every Saturday night; but in Tennessee there was never any pay-day for the negroes any more than for the horses and cows. Surely there will be a day of reckoning for those who defraud the laborer of his hire.

In answering this letter, please state if there would be any safety for my Milly and Jane, who are now grown up, and both good-looking girls. You know how it was with poor Matilda and Catherine. I would rather stay here and starve — and die, if it come to that — than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored children in your neighborhood. The great desire of my life now is to give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.

Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you when you were shooting at me.

From your old servant,
Jordon Anderson

Learn more about Jordan Anderson here.


This article originally appeared eight years ago.


Education

The enslaved man who stole a Confederate ship, sailed to freedom and became a U.S. Congressman

In a unanimous bipartisan move, South Carolina will honor Robert Smalls with the state's first statue of a Black American.

Library of Congress (Public Domain)

Robert Smalls led an extraordinary life.

South Carolina's statehouse boasts some two dozen statues honoring individuals from statesmen to "heroes" of the Confederacy, but there's a glaring omission from the lineup. Up until now, the former Confederate state—where the Civil War began at Fort Sumter and where approximately 1 in 4 residents is Black—has never erected an individual monument of a Black American.

In a unanimous bipartisan decision led by Republican Rep. Brandon Cox, Robert Smalls will become the first to be honored in this way, and his heroic life certainly earned him the accolade. As Cox told the Associated Press, "We’ve got a lot of history, good and bad. This is our good history."

Smalls was born into slavery in Beaufort, South Carolina, in 1839. He and his mother lived together in a small cabin behind their enslaver's mansion until Smalls was sent to Charleston at age 12 to be hired out. When the Civil War broke out in 1861, he was in his early 20s and soon found himself an enslaved crewmember of a ship that was contracted out to the Confederate Army. There he was, an enslaved man sailing a steamboat for an army that was fighting to keep him enslaved.



Robert Smalls dressed in a suitRobert Smalls, S.C. M.C. Born in Beaufort, SC, April 1839Library of Congress

Late one night, when the white crewmembers had all gone ashore, Smalls and the other enslaved crewmembers stole the ship with Smalls as pilot. They sailed to a wharf where they picked up their family members, then they made their way north. The sixteen enslaved people aboard managed to sail right on past Fort Sumter and Fort Moultrie, where Confederate forces were stationed, thanks to Smalls donning a captain's hat and knowing the proper signals to give as they passed. He steered the ship to the naval blockade and turned the ship over to the U.S. Navy.

The enslaved crew and their families were now free Americans.

But Smalls didn't stop there. He provided valuable intelligence to the Union since he knew the Confederate waters well and served for the remainder of the war. He became the first Black person to serve as a pilot for the U.S. Navy and fought 17 Civil War battles as the captain of the very ship he has stolen.

His status as war hero was solidified. But he didn't stop there, either.

large white plantation homeRobert Smalls' house in Beaufort, South CarolinaPublic Domain

He returned to Beaufort in 1864 and used the reward money he's received from turning over the Confederate ship to buy the home of his former enslaver at a tax auction. In just three years, Smalls had gone from enslaved man to war hero and owner of his former owner's property.

And he became well known for it. He started his own business and advocated for public education. The people of Beaufort saw him as a leader and he began to rise politically. He served as a delegate to the State Constitutional Convention in 1868, then as a state representative, then state senator, then as a delegate to the Republican National Convention, and finally as a representative in the U.S. Congress.

He ended up serving five terms in the House of Representatives during the Reconstruction Era, when Black Americans voted in large numbers for the first time and were elected to government positions. According to the National Parks Service, Beaufort was viewed as a symbol of successful Reconstruction policies, with formerly enslaved people engaging in education, politics, and land ownership in the former Confederate county.

- YouTubeyoutu.be

However, the glory of that era didn't last as white Southerners regained political power. By the time Smalls died in 1915, segregation laws were widespread and the freedom that had been so hard won for Black Americans in the South had been curtailed. Even Smalls' incredible life story was largely forgotten by the "Lost Cause" rewriting of Civil War history.

However, the 21st century has seen historians setting the record straight and uplifting heroes like Robert Smalls who have not gotten the national recognition they deserve. After years of lobbying by the community of Beaufort to have Smalls and the reality of the Reconstruction Era recognized, January 2017, President Barack Obama issued an executive order establishing Reconstruction Era National Monument (now known as Reconstruction Era National Historical Park) in Beaufort County in January 2017.

And now South Carolina will erect a statue in Smalls' honor on the grounds of the statehouse. It's worth noting that the idea has been floated for years with bipartisan and biracial support, but had always faced some quiet opposition. Now it looks like everyone's on board, so it's just a matter of working out the exact design and location for the statue.

It's been a long time coming, but South Carolina is finally highlighting history we can all be proud of—a historic step in the right direction.

Democracy

Laurence Fishburne reads epic letter from former slave to the 'master' who wanted him back

It's a powerful—and surprisingly funny—takedown of the colonel who'd enslaved him.

Photo credit: Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (left), Public Domain (right)

Actor Laurence Fishburne and formerly enslaved man Jordan Anderson

Imagine being enslaved for over 30 years and then gaining your freedom, only to have the man who enslaved you ask you to come back and work for him a year later. Unthinkable, right?

A letter written in 1865 by Jordan (sometimes spelled "Jordon") Anderson, a formerly enslaved man in Ohio, to his former "master" Colonel P.H. Anderson in Tennessee demonstrates the ridiculousness of such a request—and offers a cathartic takedown the colonel most definitely deserved. After being freed by the Union Army in 1864, Jordan and his wife moved to Ohio to live and work. In the meantime, Colonel Anderson found that his plantation had fallen into total disrepair without the benefit of enslaved labor, so he desperately wrote to Jordan to ask him to come back and help save the property. He promised to pay Jordan and treat him as a free man if he came to work for him.

The audacity, though. Phew.

Jordan Anderson's response to his former "master" is a masterclass takedown.

Jordan didn't owe the colonel a response at all. He could have just ignored the letter and moved on with his life, but instead, he chose to dictate his response through his employer, Valentine Winters, and have it published in the Cincinnati Commercial under the title, "Letter from a Freedman to His Old Master." It was a hit. In 2023, actor Laurence Fishburne read the letter on "Letters Live" in his signature sonorous voice, and his delivery showcased the brilliance and humor in Jordan's response.


Watch:

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

The letter reads:

Dayton, Ohio,
August 7, 1865
To My Old Master, Colonel P.H. Anderson, Big Spring, Tennessee

Sir: I got your letter, and was glad to find that you had not forgotten Jordon, and that you wanted me to come back and live with you again, promising to do better for me than anybody else can. I have often felt uneasy about you. I thought the Yankees would have hung you long before this, for harboring Rebs they found at your house. I suppose they never heard about your going to Colonel Martin's to kill the Union soldier that was left by his company in their stable. Although you shot at me twice before I left you, I did not want to hear of your being hurt, and am glad you are still living. It would do me good to go back to the dear old home again, and see Miss Mary and Miss Martha and Allen, Esther, Green, and Lee. Give my love to them all, and tell them I hope we will meet in the better world, if not in this. I would have gone back to see you all when I was working in the Nashville Hospital, but one of the neighbors told me that Henry intended to shoot me if he ever got a chance.

I want to know particularly what the good chance is you propose to give me. I am doing tolerably well here. I get twenty-five dollars a month, with victuals and clothing; have a comfortable home for Mandy — the folks call her Mrs. Anderson, — and the children — Milly, Jane, and Grundy — go to school and are learning well. The teacher says Grundy has a head for a preacher. They go to Sunday school, and Mandy and me attend church regularly. We are kindly treated. Sometimes we overhear others saying, "Them colored people were slaves" down in Tennessee. The children feel hurt when they hear such remarks; but I tell them it was no disgrace in Tennessee to belong to Colonel Anderson. Many darkeys would have been proud, as I used to be, to call you master. Now if you will write and say what wages you will give me, I will be better able to decide whether it would be to my advantage to move back again.

As to my freedom, which you say I can have, there is nothing to be gained on that score, as I got my free papers in 1864 from the Provost-Marshal-General of the Department of Nashville. Mandy says she would be afraid to go back without some proof that you were disposed to treat us justly and kindly; and we have concluded to test your sincerity by asking you to send us our wages for the time we served you. This will make us forget and forgive old scores, and rely on your justice and friendship in the future. I served you faithfully for thirty-two years, and Mandy twenty years. At twenty-five dollars a month for me, and two dollars a week for Mandy, our earnings would amount to eleven thousand six hundred and eighty dollars. Add to this the interest for the time our wages have been kept back, and deduct what you paid for our clothing, and three doctor's visits to me, and pulling a tooth for Mandy, and the balance will show what we are in justice entitled to. Please send the money by Adams's Express, in care of V. Winters, Esq., Dayton, Ohio. If you fail to pay us for faithful labors in the past, we can have little faith in your promises in the future. We trust the good Maker has opened your eyes to the wrongs which you and your fathers have done to me and my fathers, in making us toil for you for generations without recompense. Here I draw my wages every Saturday night; but in Tennessee there was never any pay-day for the negroes any more than for the horses and cows. Surely there will be a day of reckoning for those who defraud the laborer of his hire.

In answering this letter, please state if there would be any safety for my Milly and Jane, who are now grown up, and both good-looking girls. You know how it was with poor Matilda and Catherine. I would rather stay here and starve — and die, if it come to that — than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored children in your neighborhood. The great desire of my life now is to give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.

Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you when you were shooting at me.

From your old servant,
Jordon Anderson

It's a fitting answer to the colonel's audacity. Jordan basically raises his middle finger and tells his former enslaver where to put it, all under the guise of polite correspondence.

And nearly 160 years later, people are raving about it:

"Perfect example of how the 'slave' reveals to the 'master' his class, grace and dignity. Three cheers to him."

"What an incredible writer. Formal yet conversational, hilarious yet restrained, a respectful tone yet absolutely scathing."

"That was the most eloquent, most polite way to say the biggest F you I’ve ever heard. Amazing. I salute you sir."

"I love how, even amidst all his sarcasm and justice, down the years we can still hear how very proud he was of his children. Here’s hoping they led great lives together."

"The quietly suppressed rage just under the humor/sarcasm is brilliant. This man is amazing."

"Absolutely brilliant. This letter is savage. Never heard such eloquent sarcasm in my life. I can't believe the gall of a slave owner to attempt to "hire" one of his former slaves. Jourdon must have been 1 in a million. I hope his descendants found peace and prosperity."

"A while ago I clicked over to the Letters Live site and read this. It is my absolute favourite. Anderson is a wonderful deadpan wit who frames his argument devastatingly well. He was cheated of his calling as a writer in my view. I'm glad to know he lived to 81 years and had 11 children. We can hope his legacy lives on."

Indeed. You can find more details about Jordan Anderson's life here.

Identity

LeVar Burton reveals why his chains from 'Roots' hang above his Emmys in his living room

"I want my guests to know, while I am unquestionably their friend, I am also absolutely filled with rage."

Tweigel59/Wikimedia Commons

LeVar Burton plays himself on the FX mini-series "Clipped."

LeVar Burton is probably best known—and loved—for his role as the host of the children's television series "Reading Rainbow." But his career as an actor has spanned a full 47 years, from his debut role as enslaved African Kunta Kinte in the mini-series "Roots" to his ongoing role of Geordi La Forge in the Star Trek spin-offs.

Now, he's playing another iconic role—a fictional version of himself.


In the FX mini-series "Clipped," Burton plays himself as a friend and confidant of former LA Clippers coach Doc Rivers, played by Laurence Fishburne. In a scene in the series finale, Burton and Rivers have a one-on-one conversation in which Burton shares that he has the chains he wore in "Roots" hanging above his 12 Emmys over the hearth in his living room—a real-life fact that he confirmed on social media after the episode aired.

"America first met me as Kunta Kinte, a young African kid who was kidnapped, tortured, refused his slave name," he told Rivers in the scene. "Then I read to their children and maintained the integrity of their favorite spaceship. Pretty soon, people began to think of me as…safe."

"Oh, the safest," agreed Rivers.

Burton then explained how he read the famous children's book, "Go the F**k to Sleep" for charity and lost one of his brand partners over it—a consequence of stepping out of line with expectations of him.

"If I showed how angry I really am?" Burton pondered. "But I'm not going to hide it. So I keep my chains on the wall in my living room. I want my guests to know, while I am unquestionably their friend, I am also absolutely filled with rage."

Watch:

According to an interview with "Clipped" creator Gina Welch in Vulture, Burton and Doc Rivers are not actually friends in real life, but Burton and Fishburne are, and this conversation is reflective of their real-life conversations about race they've had in the sauna.

At first, Fishburne didn't think Burton would be on board with playing the role. "Clipped" deals with the downfall of former Clippers owner Donald Sterling, who was caught on tape making racist remarks. "The kinds of things we’re talking about in the show are really not part of his [Burton's] public persona," said Fishburne, according to Welch. Burton agreed to be part of the production on one condition.

"The conversations really changed once LeVar agreed to do the show," Welch explained. "He was great. He read the scripts very quickly and called me, and then we met and his caveat was, 'I’ll do the show as long as I can talk about my rage.' I was like, 'Welcome to the party.'"

When most people think of LeVar Burton, "rage" isn't usually the first word that comes to mind, which is part of what makes this clip so powerful. As writer and civil rights activist James Baldwin famously said in 1961, "To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a state of rage almost, almost all of the time."

Baldwin's full quote offers even more context:

"To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a state of rage almost, almost all of the time — and in one's work. And part of the rage is this: It isn't only what is happening to you. But it's what's happening all around you and all of the time in the face of the most extraordinary and criminal indifference, indifference of most white people in this country, and their ignorance. Now, since this is so, it's a great temptation to simplify the issues under the illusion that if you simplify them enough, people will recognize them. I think this illusion is very dangerous because, in fact, it isn't the way it works. A complex thing can't be made simple. You simply have to try to deal with it in all its complexity and hope to get that complexity across."

Hopefully, hearing that one America's "safest," most wholesome and most beloved Black celebrities experience the inner rage that racism engenders will help get that complexity across to more people who can benefit from hearing it.