In a journal entry written exactly 174 years ago today, Leo Tolstoy declared, “”I’ve fallen in love or imagine that I have; went to a party and lost my head. Bought a horse which I don’t need at all.”
This past year, I got back into the habit of regular journaling. While I haven’t written anything quite as intriguing as “bought a horse which I don’t need at all”, I did manage to capture a few fleeting memories of spending my days with a quickly changing toddler, write a few snippets of fiction, and make some notes about the books I read.
I’ve always liked the idea of keeping a writer’s journal, but been pretty hit or miss with the habit over the years. I tend to go long stretches without writing anything, then every once in a while, write really long recaps or scribble a few notes about a book or topic I’m researching. I just started year four of a line-a-day five-year journal, and as great as that is to read back through each day to see what was happening on that day three years ago, it’s not the same as long form journaling.
Halfway through last year, I decided I needed to challenge myself to write more, so in July I went and bought a cheap journal at Walmart. Six months later, I had it completed and had developed a pretty regular habit of jotting down thoughts on various topics, book notes, recapping the day’s events, and a few pretty bad drawings of garden layout ideas.
My renewed interest in journaling sent me down the internet research path of looking for historical journals, and there are many out there I would like to explore. But as Sylvia Plath once wrote in her own journal, “I can never read all the books I want, I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skill I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones, and varieties of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.”
Old journals of everyday people generate much curiosity beyond the obvious interest historians have. Particularly interesting journals have sold for thousands of dollars to collectors.
One well known historical journal that has been published a few times in different editions is that of Charlotte L. Forten. I came across her journals earlier this month when I was trying to find interesting historical journals to read and was able to access a copy of one of the earlier editions through Google Books. I’ve enjoyed reading through the entries of this interesting lady’s journals and reading first-hand accounts of life during the civil war from the perspective of a free black woman.
In a journal entry written on her 25th birthday on Sunday August 17, 1862, she wrote: “My twenty-fifth birthday. Tisn’t a very pleasant thought that I have lived a quarter of a century, and am so very, very ignorant. Ten years ago, I hoped for a different fate at twenty-five. But why complain? The accomplishments, the society, the delights of travel which I have dreamed of and longed for all my life, I am now convinced can never be mine. If I can go to Port Royal, I will try to forget all these desires. I will pray that God in His goodness will make me noble enough to find my highest happiness in doing my duty.”
This entry is so relatable. Probably almost every human who has ever lived to see age twenty-five could have written the sentiment of this entry about life not looking like they had envisioned ten years before. But it’s remarkable to come across this entry after reading several articles about this woman’s life as a whole and all that she accomplished. She was a passionate, trail blazing teacher. An abolitionist and life long activist. A poet and prolific writer who used her voice to dispel prejudices. And yet, at age twenty-five, she wrote about the same inner thoughts of doubt that are shared with all young adults at some point in life.
Not long after writing this entry, Charlotte did go to Port Royal to teach children who had been recently freed from enslavement. She wrote quite a bit about the trip there as she sailed through storms, became quite sea sick, and made new friends. Despite the hardships, she still relished the journey, writing: “now that the storm has passed, I feel really glad that I have experienced a “veritable storm at sea”. She described the beauty of the sea and stars and of the phosphorescence in the water at night. Just a little over two months after she wrote her birthday entry lamenting that she hadn’t been able to travel as she had dreamed, she was on a new adventure to be the first black teacher to take part in the “Port Royal Experiment”.
She wrote about her experiences teaching there on the Sea Islands, including the frustrations and victories. On Wednesday, November 5, 1862 she wrote in her journal, “Had my first regular teaching experience, and to you and you only friend beloved, will I acknowledge that it was not a very pleasant one.”
Another entry in Charlotte’s journals that generated much interest was her documentation of her meeting with Harriet Tubman. As a young woman, she had the opportunity to meet with the “wonder woman” as she referred to Harriet Tubman and to hear some of her stories first hand. Harriet Tubman was unable to read or write, having been denied any kind of formal education as an enslaved person, but she was quite the story teller, a fact that Charlotte’s account of meeting her supports.
Saturday, January 31, 1863
“In B[eaufort] we spent nearly all our time at Harriet Tubman’s otherwise [sic] “Moses.” She is a wonder woman – a real heroine. Has helped off a large number of slaves, after taking her own freedom. She told us that she used to hide them in the woods during the day and go around to get provisions for them. Once she had with her a man named Joe, for whom a reward of $1500 was offered. Frequently, in different places she found handbills exactly describing him, but at last they reached in safety the Suspension Bridge over the Falls and found themselves in Canada. Until then, she said, Joe had been very silent. In vain had she called his attention to the glory of the Falls. He sat perfectly still – moody, it seemed, and w[ou]ld not even glance at them. But when she said, “Now we are in Can[ada]” he sprang to his feet – with a great shout and sang and clapped his hands in a perfect delirium of joy. So when they got out, and he first touched free soil, he shouted and hurrahed “as if he were crazy” – she said. How exciting it was to hear her tell the story. And to hear her sing the very scraps of jubilant hymns that he sang. She said the ladies crowded around them, and some laughed and some cried. My own eyes were full as I listened to her – the heroic woman! A reward of $10,000 was offered for her by Southerners, and her friends deemed it best that she sh[ou]ld, for a time find refuge in Can[ada]. And she did so, but only for a short time. She came back and was soon at the good brave work again. She is living in B[eaufort] now; keeping an eating house. But she wants to go North, and will probably do so ere long. I am glad I saw her – very glad.”
Moving forward into 2025, I hope to continue to explore a variety of old journals and life stories, and to keep writing my own along the way.
Rachel F. Jean 
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