Socials 17th Century Letter Blog Post

My dear brother Clifford,

I have been very busy the past few days, and I barely managed to scraped up the time to write

this. The farms are currently very busy, and my landlord is pushing me to my limits. Us lower class

folks get all the dirt. We live off of bread and beer, rarely getting our hands on a good piece of

meat or a delicious block of cheese. Just the thought makes my tongue water. My back and arms

are so sore from all the plowing in the fields, but my landlord has no mercy at all. If he sees me

right now writing this letter, he’ll… let’s just not go there. Witch hunts are happening everywhere,

and I honestly feel bad for some of the poor women condemned for something nobody can prove.

That’s just my opinion, I’m too scared to announce it in public as I’ll most likely be hanged along

with the “witches”. Poor ol’ Rebecca was hanged for being a witch the other day, she was a kind

woman who had treated my injuries after a group of merchants thrashed me for no reason. There

was also the time when she treated me for a disease I’d caught, and in my opinion she was no

witch. Whatever, not like I can do anything about it. I can hear faint music coming from the wealthy

town in the lowlands; it looks so pretty compared to these poor highlands I live in, along with the

other low-class people. The poor children here are beginning to follow the life of crime, robbing

houses and places for goods. I don’t blame them, despite the fact the middle and higher-class feel

otherwise. We don’t have any chance of getting back up, getting to middle-class at least, our

dreams are crushed every day. We get punished for choosing to live like this, poor, miserable,

unable to afford many meals. As if. Do they seriously think we want to live like this? Amazing, the

conclusions those ungrateful, snobby, rich folks come up with. Uh-oh, I can hear my landlord

returning, I must go now or I’m done for. I hope we meet soon,


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