Henry T.

My name is William Smith and I am a blacksmith living in New York in Colonial America, in a no name small town where I have lived my happiest days. I am a Protestant white male who was a poor farmer, but I was chosen to become a blacksmith. This is my life story.

When I was 10 the local journeyman, Henry, decided to have an apprentice because he was somewhat lazy. He looked for months and months. There were many poor families with children in our village in Virginia. He finally decided he wanted my brother, John, because my brother was strong and smart even though I was the perfect age and my brother was too young. He came to our small wooden makeshift house to talk business. Everyone knew he came for my brother. He trusted our family, because we came to his shop often. He already knew my kind hearted brother. John would help out our local journeyman. I remember that day perfectly, my dad had got some pig for the occasion. It was the best meal I ever had, but I was not happy because I knew that I was to be shamed. We waited thirty minutes for my brother, but there was no sign of him. I could see my family getting worried, and I was worried too. After an hour we started to look. We yelled his name and looked for him in our farmland. We were losing hope. We had been looking for hours now. Then I heard a yell. I wondered what it was. It came from the river. I ran as fast as I have ever run, the bushes and plants going by as if they were caught in a fierce wind. When I arrived, I saw my mother. I did not know she was looking for John. There was blood and pieces of a rope down a path to the river. She looked straight into my eye and said “you you youu ungrateful jealous boy you killed your brother.” She did not stop yelling even when my dad, Alden, and older brother, Henry, came. They stared at me too, because they also knew I was helping him early with clearing some land close to the river and I brought a rope. Then my mother said to me in front of them “ You’re no son of mine.” That was the day I lost my family’s love. Ever since that day no one ever trusted me except an old African American lady who cleans the blacksmith smithy. No one’s trusted me ever since after the court said I was innocent. The blacksmith decided to take me as an apprentice even after the incident with my younger brother. Since no one had ever wanted to play or talk to me, I would work because it brought my mind off it. That is the reason Mam, that was my name for the other worker of the blacksmith, liked me, because she said that I was a hard worker even when no one loved me from my family and no one trusted me. She was my only family, not even my blacksmith Henry was a friend, he was my teacher nothing more. I became very good at the profession early on. I still had 2 more years until I finished my apprenticeship even though I partly ran the smithy. I knew I could not work for anybody that knew my past, so I was going to move away and start or join a business. When I had enough money I would buy Mam and free her. She had always trusted me and comforted me when kids beat me up. The other adults would never stop their kids, because they believed I deserved it. Today was a festival. Many farmers would be wanting supplies. It was also a day to show my skill and put in a good word to many rich gentry farmers and masters of blacksmith shops. As I got up in my tiny wooden room, I could see the sky alight as if it was on fire through the crack in my roof. I jumped down my lift ladder and sprinted to the forge. I prepared the fire by relighting it by blowing on the ashes. I did my normal course until the orders came in. By now the main road was packed with farmers talking about the weather and other current events. The blacksmith was out getting more iron today. He trusted me to run the shop, or he did not want to work today. One or the other, I did not care, I was going to show what I could do. I was making many items on record time. I saw Mam cleaning, while some kids harassed her. I knew I could not help her. She said it was better last time I helped her. That time I got lashed 10 times for it. They called me many foul names and spit on me. I noticed someone come into the forge, a man with nice clothes on. He watched me. I knew he could be important. I finished the ladle I was making and when I turned to him I said, “Yes would you like something.” He said “Hi my name is William Turner and I see you are skilled at your job. I am opening a blacksmith shop in New York and I would like you to run it. I could not believe it, but then I realized that New York was very far and that I would never see Mam again. I said that I would come on one condition, if I could bring my African American cleaning lady with me. He said okay I agree, but I will take her now to New York with me because my carriage is large. I had to think this over, but I finally said yes because I knew she would be treated better there then here. We shook hands firmly and as I griped his fingers, it hit me how lucky I was to be chosen to move away and leave my old life. I smiled uncontrollably when I thought this, until I realized Mam was my blacksmith’s property and not mine to send away. I would have to persuade him somehow. The rest of the day was busy with people coming in and out of the smithy ordering and buying iron items. I was happy, but also deep in thought when it hit me how to persuade him.  I would become an indentured slave to William Turner. The sun was lowering and I looked outside the smithy window for him. William Turner walked into the shop again and said “Which woman is one you want me to bring?”

I stepped out of the back forge into the shop floor, but Mam was not around. That’s not good I thought, because Mam was never not there working. Then, I heard a yell and ran towards it. I thought a gang of boys had trapped her. I ran as fast as the day that my brother died when I saw her. She was being dragged by a guard to the town house. I yelled out, “What are you doing?” They said, “She murdered your brother!” I felt like timed stop remembering my brother, but I knew I could not let this stand. They had dragged Mam to a mob of people. When I yelled out “I killed him!” they turned and looked and dropped Mam. Someone yelled out, “I knew it.” Then I felt something heavy hit my head, and I blacked out. I heard someone yell out, “I thought it was Mam?” My eyes shot open and staggering pain shot up my body. I could not move my head. I saw bars and I it felt like I was moving. Then I remembered everything and then I drifted off out again. The next time I moved my head, I was expecting the pain so it was not as bad. I saw buildings and a large road, then I saw a sign that said, “Welcome to Williamsburg.” I thought why would I be in Williamsburg? I realized the government thought I had committed a felony! I was about to yell out that, “I didn’t do it!” when I realized if they believed me, then Mam would be killed by them. And if they didn’t believe that I did not kill my brother, then it would serve no purpose because Mam would get the punishment. We stopped abruptly and a man said “Get up, we’re leaving.” I saw a large mean looking man. He moved towards me aggressively and said more roughly “Get up!” I looked at him, and said “I need help getting up.” Suddenly he grabbed me and some fireman carried me as if I weighed less than air. I knew I could not escape even if I did not already feel as if I had been hit with one of my hammers. Then I wondered if I had been actually been hit by a blacksmith hammer? That brought me to wonder why was I hit, and what was the penalty for manslaughter? I looked up to see where we were going? I saw us enter a huge building and I heard was a lot of noise. People were talking when I entered, but most people went quiet and evil names were mindlessly tossed at me as if I were a witch. I was sat down on a bench. I saw my mom and dad there. I starred with hate in my eyes, when I heard a large man with a wig say ‘MIster Smith, you have been charged with manslaughter of your brother John who has been dead for some time.” I thought to myself, “Ya, what’s your proof?” but I dared not say it because I knew the cost of speaking out. The wigged man was the Judge. Just as the Judge asked, “Do you have anyone to defend you? a young man burst through the front door. The young man looked a lot like me, except a little younger. The young man said “I do!” “And, who are you?” the Judge demanded. “I am John, John Wallible Smith” he said. The room went quiet at this time, and someone yelled out, “Liar!” But everyone that knew John, knew he was telling the truth. John then turned his eye on Henry and said “You tried to kill me!” The next moments were a blur of motion as a swarm of people tried to grab Henry as he started running. The people who doubted John’s authenticity were convinced of it when Henry ran. The people in the courthouse grabbed Henry and pulled him down.

After henry was arrested and got the punishment for murder, William Turner bout mam and picked ous up on the way to New York. My life has not been the best, but not the worst. There are people with much better lives, and here are people with much worse lives. In our society, some people’s’ lives are not their own to live. Slaves, indentured servants and ‘witches’ have much much worse lives than me.

Freddie F.

A day in the Life: Hi, my name is Harry Smith. I am the Blacksmith in Williamsburg. I am a good Christian man. I go to church every sunday. I make a nice amount of money. My tools are very good, so most people in the colony like to use them. I make tools for the surgeons, millners and the bakers to name a few. I think I have the best shop in the business. It’s very big. I have my forge, with a big bellow in the back. I have my anvil next to the forge, and many fantastic tools that I made on the wall, and on my tool bench. I came to Jamestown in 1615 from England for a new life.

I had a nice childhood in England. I had a great mom and dad and two nice sisters. I went to an nice school and a very good college. I had a degree in engineering and became a Blacksmith as soon as I was done with university. I was a Blacksmith in Manchester, but no one wanted to hire me. They said, “Your tools aren’t fancy enough,” or “Your tools are too big or small,”. I gave up on Manchester. I was a lonely man, I didn’t have a wife. My parents and 2 sisters family moved to Ireland 10 years ago in search for a new restaurant to start. I had no life in Manchester. All I had was my shop. I came to Jamestown in search for a new life.

I woke up this morning feeling very glum. Yesterday was a bad day for my amazing business, which doesn’t happen often because my tools are so great. A nice man from a plantation near Jamestown needed new tools to farm with, so I spent the whole day making the tools for him. I was very proud of my work at the end. Every tool was nice and shiny, just as it always is. I put the tools in a box and waited for the man to come and get them. I sat down, and dozed off after a long day of work. When I woke up, the tools were gone! All my amazing tools had disappeared! I was very angry. I marched right out of my shop and around town, asking everyone if they had seen shiny new farming tools. No one said they had, so I went back to the shop feeling annoyed. A whole day of work, just for nothing! I was so angry that I closed the shop two hours early and went home, hoping I could have an amazing day tomorrow to make up for today’s unusual bad business.