Chapter 1

INTRODUCTORY—ANCESTRY—THE NORTHUP FAMILY—BIRTH AND PARENTAGE—MINTUS NORTHUP—MARRIAGE WITH ANNE HAMPTON—GOOD RESOLUTIONS—CHAMPLAIN CANAL—RAFTING EXCURSION TO CANADA—FARMING—THE VIOLIN—COOKING—REMOVAL TO SARATOGA—PARKER AND PERRY—SLAVES AND SLAVERY—THE CHILDREN—THE BEGINNING OF SORROW.

INTRODUCTION. ANCESTRY. THE NORTHUP FAMILY. BIRTH AND PARENTS. MINTUS NORTHUP. MARRIAGE TO ANNE HAMPTON. GOOD RESOLUTIONS. CHAMPLAIN CANAL. RAFTING TRIP TO CANADA. FARMING. THE VIOLIN. COOKING. MOVE TO SARATOGA. PARKER AND PERRY. SLAVES AND SLAVERY. THE CHILDREN. THE BEGINNING OF SORROW.

Having been born a freeman, and for more than thirty years enjoyed the blessings of liberty in a free State—and having at the end of that time been kidnapped and sold into Slavery, where I remained, until happily rescued in the month of January, 1853, after a bondage of twelve years—it has been suggested that an account of my life and fortunes would not be uninteresting to the public.

I was born a free man and enjoyed the blessings of liberty in a free State for more than thirty years. Then I was kidnapped and sold into Slavery. I remained in bondage for twelve years, until I was happily rescued in January 1853. It has been suggested that an account of my life and fortunes would be of interest to the public.

Since my return to liberty, I have not failed to perceive the increasing interest throughout the Northern States, in regard to the subject of Slavery. Works of fiction, professing to portray its features in their more pleasing as well as more repugnant aspects, have been circulated to an extent unprecedented, and, as I understand, have created a fruitful topic of comment and discussion.

Since I regained my freedom, I have noticed growing interest in slavery throughout the Northern States. Works of fiction claiming to portray both its more pleasing and more repugnant aspects have circulated on an unprecedented scale. As I understand it, these works have prompted much comment and discussion.

I can speak of Slavery only so far as it came under my own observation—only so far as I have known and experienced it in my own person. My object is, to give a candid and truthful statement of facts: to repeat the story of my life, without exaggeration, leaving it for others to determine, whether even the pages of fiction present a picture of more cruel wrong or a severer bondage.

I can speak of slavery only as far as I have observed and experienced it myself. My goal is to give an honest and truthful account of the facts. I will tell the story of my life without exaggeration. I leave it to others to decide whether even fiction portrays more cruel injustice or harsher bondage.

As far back as I have been able to ascertain, my ancestors on the paternal side were slaves in Rhode Island. They belonged to a family by the name of Northup, one of whom, removing to the State of New-York, settled at Hoosic, in Rensselaer county. He brought with him Mintus Northup, my father. On the death of this gentleman, which must have occurred some fifty years ago, my father became free, having been emancipated by a direction in his will.

As far back as I have been able to trace them, my father’s ancestors were slaves in Rhode Island. They belonged to a family named Northup. One member of that family moved to New-York and settled in Hoosic, in Rensselaer county. He brought my father, Mintus Northup, with him. When this gentleman died, he freed my father through a provision in his will. His death must have occurred about fifty years ago.

Henry B. Northup, Esq., of Sandy Hill, a distinguished counselor at law, and the man to whom, under Providence, I am indebted for my present liberty, and my return to the society of my wife and children, is a relative of the family in which my forefathers were thus held to service, and from which they took the name I bear. To this fact may be attributed the persevering interest he has taken in my behalf.

Henry B. Northup, Esq., of Sandy Hill, is a distinguished lawyer. Under Providence, I owe him my freedom and my return to my wife and children. He is a relative of the family that held my ancestors in service. My ancestors took the name I bear from that family. This connection may explain his persistent interest in helping me.

Sometime after my father's liberation, he removed to the town of Minerva, Essex county, N. Y., where I was born, in the month of July, 1808. How long he remained in the latter place I have not the means of definitely ascertaining. From thence he removed to Granville, Washington county, near a place known as Slyborough, where, for some years, he labored on the farm of Clark Northup, also a relative of his old master; from thence he removed to the Alden farm, at Moss Street, a short distance north of the village of Sandy Hill; and from thence to the farm now owned by Russel Pratt, situated on the road leading from Fort Edward to Argyle, where he continued to reside until his death, which took place on the 22d day of November, 1829. He left a widow and two children—myself, and Joseph, an elder brother. The latter is still living in the county of Oswego, near the city of that name; my mother died during the period of my captivity.

Some time after my father was freed, he moved to the town of Minerva, Essex County, N. Y. I was born there in July 1808. I have no way of knowing exactly how long he stayed there. From Minerva, he moved to Granville, Washington County, near a place known as Slyborough. For some years, he worked on the farm of Clark Northup, who was also a relative of his old master. From there, he moved to the Alden farm at Moss Street, a short distance north of the village of Sandy Hill. He then moved to the farm now owned by Russel Pratt, on the road from Fort Edward to Argyle. He lived there until his death on November 22, 1829. He left a widow and two children, myself and my older brother, Joseph. Joseph still lives in Oswego County, near the city of that name. My mother died during my captivity.

Though born a slave, and laboring under the disadvantages to which my unfortunate race is subjected, my father was a man respected for his industry and integrity, as many now living, who well remember him, are ready to testify. His whole life was passed in the peaceful pursuits of agriculture, never seeking employment in those more menial positions, which seem to be especially allotted to the children of Africa. Besides giving us an education surpassing that ordinarily bestowed upon children in our condition, he acquired, by his diligence and economy, a sufficient property qualification to entitle him to the right of suffrage. He was accustomed to speak to us of his early life; and although at all times cherishing the warmest emotions of kindness, and even of affection towards the family, in whose house he had been a bondsman, he nevertheless comprehended the system of Slavery, and dwelt with sorrow on the degradation of his race. He endeavored to imbue our minds with sentiments of morality, and to teach us to place our trust and confidence in Him who regards the humblest as well as the highest of his creatures. How often since that time has the recollection of his paternal counsels occurred to me, while lying in a slave hut in the distant and sickly regions of Louisiana, smarting with the undeserved wounds which an inhuman master had inflicted, and longing only for the grave which had covered him, to shield me also from the lash of the oppressor. In the church-yard at Sandy Hill, an humble stone marks the spot where he reposes, after having worthily performed the duties appertaining to the lowly sphere wherein God had appointed him to walk.

Though born a slave and burdened by the disadvantages imposed on my unfortunate race, my father was respected for his hard work and integrity. Many people still living remember him well and are ready to testify to this. He spent his whole life in the peaceful work of farming. He never sought work in the more menial positions that seem to be reserved for the children of Africa. He gave us a better education than children in our circumstances usually received. Through hard work and thrift, he also acquired enough property to qualify for the right to vote. He often spoke to us about his early life. He always felt the warmest kindness, and even affection, for the family in whose house he had been a slave. Yet he understood the system of Slavery and spoke with sorrow about the degradation of his race. He tried to instill moral values in us. He taught us to place our trust and confidence in God, who cares for the humblest and the highest of his creatures alike. How often I have remembered my father’s advice since then. I remembered it while lying in a slave hut in the distant and disease-ridden regions of Louisiana. I smarted from the undeserved wounds inflicted by an inhuman master. I longed only for the grave that had covered my father to shelter me, too, from the oppressor’s lash. In the churchyard at Sandy Hill, a humble stone marks his resting place. He lies there after having honorably fulfilled the duties of the humble station in which God had placed him.

Up to this period I had been principally engaged with my father in the labors of the farm. The leisure hours allowed me were generally either employed over my books, or playing on the violin—an amusement which was the ruling passion of my youth. It has also been the source of consolation since, affording pleasure to the simple beings with whom my lot was cast, and beguiling my own thoughts, for many hours, from the painful contemplation of my fate.

Until then, I had mostly worked on the farm with my father. I usually spent my free hours reading or playing the violin. Playing the violin was the great passion of my youth. It has also comforted me since then, giving pleasure to the simple people among whom I found myself. For many hours, it has also distracted me from painful thoughts of my fate.

On Christmas day, 1829, I was married to Anne Hampton, a colored girl then living in the vicinity of our residence. The ceremony was performed at Fort Edward, by Timothy Eddy, Esq., a magistrate of that town, and still a prominent citizen of the place. She had resided a long time at Sandy Hill, with Mr. Baird, proprietor of the Eagle Tavern, and also in the family of Rev. Alexander Proudfit, of Salem. This gentleman for many years had presided over the Presbyterian society at the latter place, and was widely distinguished for his learning and piety. Anne still holds in grateful remembrance the exceeding kindness and the excellent counsels of that good man. She is not able to determine the exact line of her descent, but the blood of three races mingles in her veins. It is difficult to tell whether the red, white, or black predominates. The union of them all, however, in her origin, has given her a singular but pleasing expression, such as is rarely to be seen. Though somewhat resembling, yet she cannot properly be styled a quadroon, a class to which, I have omitted to mention, my mother belonged.

On Christmas Day, 1829, I married Anne Hampton, a colored girl who then lived near our home. Timothy Eddy, Esq., a magistrate in Fort Edward, performed the ceremony there. He is still a prominent citizen of the town. Anne had lived for a long time in Sandy Hill with Mr. Baird, the owner of the Eagle Tavern. She had also lived with the family of Rev. Alexander Proudfit of Salem. For many years, he had led the Presbyterian congregation in Salem and was widely known for his learning and piety. Anne still gratefully remembers the great kindness and excellent advice of that good man. She cannot trace her exact ancestry, but the blood of three races mingles in her veins. It is hard to tell whether the red, white, or black predominates. The combination of all three in her ancestry has given her a distinctive but pleasing appearance, rarely seen. Though she somewhat resembles a quadroon, she cannot properly be called one. I have omitted to mention that my mother belonged to that class.

I had just now passed the period of my minority, having reached the age of twenty-one years in the month of July previous. Deprived of the advice and assistance of my father, with a wife dependent upon me for support, I resolved to enter upon a life of industry; and notwithstanding the obstacle of color, and the consciousness of my lowly state, indulged in pleasant dreams of a good time coming, when the possession of some humble habitation, with a few surrounding acres, should reward my labors, and bring me the means of happiness and comfort.

I had just reached adulthood, having turned twenty-one the previous July. I no longer had my father's advice and help, and I had a wife who depended on me for support. So I resolved to work hard. Despite the obstacle of color and my awareness of my humble position, I dreamed of better days ahead. I hoped my labor would earn me a modest home and a few acres of land. These would give me the means to live in happiness and comfort.

From the time of my marriage to this day the love I have borne my wife has been sincere and unabated; and only those who have felt the glowing tenderness a father cherishes for his offspring, can appreciate my affection for the beloved children which have since been born to us. This much I deem appropriate and necessary to say, in order that those who read these pages, may comprehend the poignancy of those sufferings I have been doomed to bear.

From the day we married until now, my love for my wife has been sincere and undiminished. Only those who have felt a father's warm tenderness for his children can appreciate my love for the beloved children born to us. I think it is appropriate and necessary to say this so that readers may understand the depth of the suffering I have been doomed to endure.

Immediately upon our marriage we commenced house-keeping, in the old yellow building then standing at the southern extremity of Fort Edward village, and which has since been transformed into a modern mansion, and lately occupied by Captain Lathrop. It is known as the Fort House. In this building the courts were sometime held after the organization of the county. It was also occupied by Burgoyne in 1777, being situated near the old Fort on the left bank of the Hudson.

Immediately after our marriage, we set up house in the old yellow building at the southern end of Fort Edward village. It has since been turned into a modern mansion and was recently occupied by Captain Lathrop. It is known as the Fort House. Courts were sometimes held there after the county was organized. Burgoyne also occupied the building in 1777. It stood near the old Fort on the left bank of the Hudson.

During the winter I was employed with others repairing the Champlain Canal, on that section over which William Van Nortwick was superintendent. David McEachron had the immediate charge of the men in whose company I labored. By the time the canal opened in the spring, I was enabled, from the savings of my wages, to purchase a pair of horses, and other things necessarily required in the business of navigation.

During the winter, I worked with others repairing the Champlain Canal. We worked on the section where William Van Nortwick was superintendent. David McEachron directly supervised the men I worked with. By the time the canal opened in the spring, I had saved enough wages to buy a pair of horses and other things I needed for the navigation business.

Having hired several efficient hands to assist me, I entered into contracts for the transportation of large rafts of timber from Lake Champlain to Troy. Dyer Beckwith and a Mr. Bartemy, of Whitehall, accompanied me on several trips. During the season I became perfectly familiar with the art and mysteries of rafting—a knowledge which afterwards enabled me to render profitable service to a worthy master, and to astonish the simple-witted lumbermen on the banks of the Bayou Bœuf.

I hired several capable workers to help me and contracted to transport large timber rafts from Lake Champlain to Troy. Dyer Beckwith and a Mr. Bartemy, of Whitehall, accompanied me on several trips. During that season, I learned all the skills and secrets of rafting. This knowledge later allowed me to provide profitable service to a worthy master. It also allowed me to astonish the simple-minded lumbermen along the banks of the Bayou Bœuf.

In one of my voyages down Lake Champlain, I was induced to make a visit to Canada. Repairing to Montreal, I visited the cathedral and other places of interest in that city, from whence I continued my excursion to Kingston and other towns, obtaining a knowledge of localities, which was also of service to me afterwards, as will appear towards the close of this narrative.

On one of my trips down Lake Champlain, I was persuaded to visit Canada. In Montreal, I visited the cathedral and other places of interest. From there, I continued to Kingston and other towns. I learned about these places, and that knowledge was useful to me later, as will become clear near the end of this narrative.

Having completed my contracts on the canal satisfactorily to myself and to my employer, and not wishing to remain idle, now that the navigation of the canal was again suspended, I entered into another contract with Medad Gunn, to cut a large quantity of wood. In this business I was engaged during the winter of 1831-32.

I completed my canal contracts to my own satisfaction and my employer's. Navigation on the canal had stopped again, and I did not want to remain idle. So I made another contract with Medad Gunn to cut a large quantity of wood. I did this work during the winter of 1831-32.

With the return of spring, Anne and myself conceived the project of taking a farm in the neighborhood. I had been accustomed from earliest youth to agricultural labors, and it was an occupation congenial to my tastes. I accordingly entered into arrangements for a part of the old Alden farm, on which my father formerly resided. With one cow, one swine, a yoke of fine oxen I had lately purchased of Lewis Brown, in Hartford, and other personal property and effects, we proceeded to our new home in Kingsbury. That year I planted twenty-five acres of corn, sowed large fields of oats, and commenced farming upon as large a scale as my utmost means would permit. Anne was diligent about the house affairs, while I toiled laboriously in the field.

When spring returned, Anne and I decided to take up farming in the neighborhood. I had done farm work since early childhood, and I enjoyed it. So I made arrangements to farm part of the old Alden farm, where my father had once lived. We moved to our new home in Kingsbury with a cow, a pig, and a pair of fine oxen. I had recently bought the oxen from Lewis Brown in Hartford. We also brought our other belongings. That year I planted twenty-five acres of corn and sowed large fields of oats. I began farming on as large a scale as my limited means allowed. Anne worked diligently around the house, while I worked hard in the fields.

On this place we continued to reside until 1834. In the winter season I had numerous calls to play on the violin. Wherever the young people assembled to dance, I was almost invariably there. Throughout the surrounding villages my fiddle was notorious. Anne, also, during her long residence at the Eagle Tavern, had become somewhat famous as a cook. During court weeks, and on public occasions, she was employed at high wages in the kitchen at Sherrill's Coffee House.

We continued to live there until 1834. During the winter, I was often asked to play the violin. Wherever young people gathered to dance, I was almost always there. My fiddle was well known throughout the surrounding villages. Anne, too, had become somewhat famous as a cook during her long time at the Eagle Tavern. During court weeks and on public occasions, she was paid high wages to work in the kitchen at Sherrill's Coffee House.

We always returned home from the performance of these services with money in our pockets; so that, with fiddling, cooking, and farming, we soon found ourselves in the possession of abundance, and, in fact, leading a happy and prosperous life. Well, indeed, would it have been for us had we remained on the farm at Kingsbury; but the time came when the next step was to be taken towards the cruel destiny that awaited me.

We always came home from this work with money in our pockets. With fiddling, cooking, and farming, we soon had plenty. In fact, we were living a happy and prosperous life. We would have been much better off if we had stayed on the farm at Kingsbury. But the time came for the next step toward the cruel fate that awaited me.

In March, 1834, we removed to Saratoga Springs. We occupied a house belonging to Daniel O'Brien, on the north side of Washington street. At that time Isaac Taylor kept a large boarding house, known as Washington Hall, at the north end of Broadway. He employed me to drive a hack, in which capacity I worked for him two years. After this time I was generally employed through the visiting season, as also was Anne, in the United States Hotel, and other public houses of the place. In winter seasons I relied upon my violin, though during the construction of the Troy and Saratoga railroad, I performed many hard days' labor upon it.

In March 1834, we moved to Saratoga Springs. We lived in a house belonging to Daniel O'Brien on the north side of Washington Street. At the time, Isaac Taylor ran a large boarding house called Washington Hall at the north end of Broadway. He hired me to drive a hired carriage, and I worked for him for two years. After that, Anne and I generally worked during the tourist season at the United States Hotel and other local hotels. In winter, I relied on my violin, though I also worked many hard days building the Troy and Saratoga railroad.

I was in the habit, at Saratoga, of purchasing articles necessary for my family at the stores of Mr. Cephas Parker and Mr. William Perry, gentlemen towards whom, for many acts of kindness, I entertained feelings of strong regard. It was for this reason that, twelve years afterwards, I caused to be directed to them the letter, which is hereinafter inserted, and which was the means, in the hands of Mr. Northup, of my fortunate deliverance.

In Saratoga, I regularly bought things my family needed at the stores of Mr. Cephas Parker and Mr. William Perry. I held both men in high regard because they had shown me many kindnesses. For that reason, twelve years later, I had the letter printed below addressed to them. In the hands of Mr. Northup, the letter brought about my fortunate deliverance.

While living at the United States Hotel, I frequently met with slaves, who had accompanied their masters from the South. They were always well dressed and well provided for, leading apparently an easy life, with but few of its ordinary troubles to perplex them. Many times they entered into conversation with me on the subject of Slavery. Almost uniformly I found they cherished a secret desire for liberty. Some of them expressed the most ardent anxiety to escape, and consulted me on the best method of effecting it. The fear of punishment, however, which they knew was certain to attend their re-capture and return, in all cases proved sufficient to deter them from the experiment. Having all my life breathed the free air of the North, and conscious that I possessed the same feelings and affections that find a place in the white man's breast; conscious, moreover, of an intelligence equal to that of some men, at least, with a fairer skin, I was too ignorant, perhaps too independent, to conceive how any one could be content to live in the abject condition of a slave. I could not comprehend the justice of that law, or that religion, which upholds or recognizes the principle of Slavery; and never once, I am proud to say, did I fail to counsel any one who came to me, to watch his opportunity, and strike for freedom.

While living at the United States Hotel, I often met slaves who had accompanied their masters from the South. They were always well dressed and well provided for. They seemed to lead easy lives, with few of the usual troubles to worry them. Many times they talked with me about Slavery. Almost all of them, I found, secretly desired liberty. Some were deeply anxious to escape and asked me how best to do it. But all of them feared the punishment they knew would follow if they were captured and returned. In every case, that fear was enough to keep them from trying. I had breathed the free air of the North all my life. I knew I had the same feelings and affections as a white man. I also knew that my intelligence was equal to that of at least some men with fairer skin. Perhaps I was too ignorant, or too independent, to imagine how anyone could be content to live as a slave. I could not understand the justice of any law or religion that supported or recognized the principle of Slavery. And I am proud to say that I never failed to advise anyone who came to me to watch for an opportunity and strike for freedom.

I continued to reside at Saratoga until the spring of 1841. The flattering anticipations which, seven years before, had seduced us from the quiet farm-house, on the east side of the Hudson, had not been realized. Though always in comfortable circumstances, we had not prospered. The society and associations at that world-renowned watering place, were not calculated to preserve the simple habits of industry and economy to which I had been accustomed, but, on the contrary, to substitute others in their stead, tending to shiftlessness and extravagance.

I continued to live in Saratoga until the spring of 1841. Seven years earlier, our hopes for a better life had tempted us away from the quiet farmhouse on the east side of the Hudson. Those hopes had not come true. Though we always lived comfortably, we had not prospered. The social life and company at that world-famous resort did not encourage the simple habits of hard work and thrift I was used to. Instead, they encouraged habits that led to idleness and extravagance.

At this time we were the parents of three children—Elizabeth, Margaret, and Alonzo. Elizabeth, the eldest, was in her tenth year; Margaret was two years younger, and little Alonzo had just passed his fifth birth-day. They filled our house with gladness. Their young voices were music in our ears. Many an airy castle did their mother and myself build for the little innocents. When not at labor I was always walking with them, clad in their best attire, through the streets and groves of Saratoga. Their presence was my delight; and I clasped them to my bosom with as warm and tender love as if their clouded skins had been as white as snow.

At this time, we had three children: Elizabeth, Margaret, and Alonzo. Elizabeth, the oldest, was nine. Margaret was two years younger, and little Alonzo had just turned five. They filled our home with happiness. Their young voices were music to our ears. Their mother and I dreamed many dreams for the little innocents. When I was not working, I was always walking with them through the streets and groves of Saratoga. They wore their best clothes. Their presence delighted me, and I held them close with warm and tender love, as if their dark skin were as white as snow.

Thus far the history of my life presents nothing whatever unusual—nothing but the common hopes, and loves, and labors of an obscure colored man, making his humble progress in the world. But now I had reached a turning point in my existence—reached the threshold of unutterable wrong, and sorrow, and despair. Now had I approached within the shadow of the cloud, into the thick darkness whereof I was soon to disappear, thenceforward to be hidden from the eyes of all my kindred, and shut out from the sweet light of liberty, for many a weary year.

So far, my life story contains nothing unusual. It is only the story of the ordinary hopes, loves, and labors of an obscure colored man, making his modest way in the world. But now I had reached a turning point in my life. I stood on the threshold of unspeakable wrong, sorrow, and despair. I had entered the shadow of a cloud. Soon I would disappear into its deep darkness, hidden from the eyes of all my family. For many weary years, I would be shut out from the sweet light of liberty.