We always returned home from the performance ofthese services with money in our pockets； so that， withfiddling， cooking， and farming， we soon found ourselvesin the possession of abundance， and， in fact leading ahappy and prosperous life. Well， indeed， would it havebeen for us had we remained on the farm at Kingsbury；but the time came when the next step was to be takentowards the cruel destiny that awaited me.
In March， 1834， we removed to Saratoga Springs. Weoccupied a house belonging to Daniel O’Brien， on thenorth side of Washington street. At that time Isaac Taylorkept a large boarding house， known as Washington Hall，at the north end of Broadway. He employed me to drive ahack， in which capacity I worked for him two years. Afterthis time I was generally employed through the visitingseason， as also was Anne， in the United States Hotel，and other public houses of the place. In winter seasons Irelied upon my violin， though during the construction ofthe Troy and Saratoga railroad， I performed many harddays’ labor upon it.
I was in the habit， at Saratoga， of purchasing articlesnecessary for my family at the stores of Mr. CephasParker and Mr. William Perry， gentlemen towardswhom， for many acts of kindness， I entertained feelingsof strong regard. It was for this reason that， twelveyears afterwards， I caused to be directed to them theletter， which is hereinafter inserted， and which was themeans， in the hands of Mr. Northup， of my fortunatedeliverance.
While living at the United States Hotel， I frequentlymet with slaves， who had accompanied their mastersfrom the South. They were always well dressed and wellprovided for， leading apparently an easy life， with butfew of its ordinary troubles to perplex them. Many timesthey entered into conversation with me on the subject ofSlavery. Almost uniformly I found they cherished a secretdesire for liberty. Some of them expressed the mostardent anxiety to escape， and consulted me on the bestmethod of effecting it. The fear of punishment， however，which they knew was certain to attend their re-captureand return， in all cases proved sufficient to deter themfrom the experiment. Having all my life breathed the freeair of the North， and conscious that I possessed the samefeelings and affections that find a place in the white man’sbreast； conscious， moreover， of an intelligence equal tothat of some men， at least， with a fairer skin， I was tooignorant， perhaps too independent， to conceive how anyone could be content to live in the abject condition of aslave. I could not comprehend the justice of that law， orthat religion， which upholds or recognizes the principle of Slavery； and never once， I am proud to say， did Ifail to counsel any one who came to me， to watch hisopportunity， and strike for freedom.
I continued to reside at Saratoga until the spring of1841. The flattering anticipations which， seven yearsbefore， had seduced us from the quiet farm-house， onthe east side of the Hudson， had not been realized.
Though always in comfortable circumstances， we hadnot prospered. The society and associations at thatworld-renowned watering place， were not calculated topreserve the simple habits of industry and economy towhich I had been accustomed， but， on the contrary， tosubstitute others in their stead， tending to shiftlessnessand 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. Theyfilled our house with gladness. Their young voices weremusic in our ears. Many an airy castle did their motherand myself build for the little innocents. When not atlabor I was always walking with them， clad in their bestattire， through the streets and groves of Saratoga. Theirpresence was my delight； and I clasped them to mybosom with as warm and tender love as if their cloudedskins had been as white as snow.
Thus far the history of my life presents nothing whateverunusual—nothing but the common hopes， and loves，and labors of an obscure colored man， making hishumble progress in the world. But now I had reached aturning point in my existence—reached the threshold ofunutterable wrong， and sorrow， and despair. Now had Iapproached within the shadow of the cloud， into the thickdarkness whereof I was soon to disappear， thenceforwardto be hidden from the eyes of all my kindred， and shutout from the sweet light of liberty， for many a weary year.
