I don’t want to survive. I want to live.
I apologize for my appearance. But I have had a difficult time these past several years.
I will not fall into despair! I will keep myself hardy until freedom is opportune!
How could I write a letter without ink or paper? There is nobody I want to write to ’cause I hain’t got no friends living as I know of. That Armsby is a lying drunken fellow. You know this, just as you know that I am constant in truth. Now, master, I can see what that Armsby is after, plain enough. Didn’t he want you to hire him for an overseer? That’s it. He wants to make you believe we’re all going to run away and then he thinks you’ll hire an overseer to watch us. He believes you are soft soap. He’s given to such talk. I believe he’s just made this story out of whole cloth, ’cause he wants to get a situation. It’s all a lie, master, you may depend on’t. It’s all a lie.
The proceeds of my fiddling performances. A few picayunes, but all I have in the world. I promise them to you if you will do me the favor I require. But I beg you not to expose me if you cannot grant the request.
It is a simple enough request. I ask only that you deposit a letter in the Marksville post office. And that you keep the action an inviolable secret forever. The details of the letter are of no consequence. Even at that, there would be an imposition of much pain and suffering were it known I was the author. A patron is what I require, sir.
It is not yet written. I will have it in a day. Two at most, my skill with composition as poor as it is.
I am Solomon Northup. I am a free man; a resident of Saratoga, New York. The residence also of my wife and children who are equally free. I have papers. You have no right whatsoever to detain me…
And I promise you – I promise – upon my liberation I will have satisfaction for this wrong.
