Ona Maria (Oney) Judge was born in 1774, the same year George Washington took William Lee with him to the First Continental Congress in Philadelphia.
Her mother, Betty, had lived at Mount Vernon for fifteen years at the time of her daughter’s birth. Betty and her son, Austin (Oney Judge’s older half brother), were taken to the plantation when her mistress, Martha Custis, married George Washington in 1759.
Oney Judge’s father was likely a white man named Andrew Judge. He was an indentured servant—someone who agreed to work for a period of time in exchange for ship’s passage to America. Andrew Judge signed a four-year contract with Washington to work as a tailor. He arrived at Mount Vernon to begin his servitude in 1772.
Oney Judge was probably the daughter of a white man named Andrew Judge. This is the indenture paper for Andrew Judge, where he agreed to work for four years in exchange for passage to America. When he arrived in America, George Washington bought his indenture, which contracted him to work for Washington for four years. Notice the signature at the bottom right: Andrew Judge signed his name with an X, which means he had not been taught to read or write. The person who filled out the document noted that the X was “his mark.”
Since Andrew Judge was a tailor and Betty a seamstress, they likely worked near each other. No records exist that tell us what sort of relationship Betty had with Andrew Judge. They may have loved each other. At a time when most enslaved people did not have a last name, it is significant that she named her daughter Oney Judge. In 1780, Betty had another daughter, named Philadelphia (Delphy) Judge. Andrew Judge stayed on to work at Mount Vernon for years after his indenture period was up. He left Mount Vernon around 1780. No records indicate that Andrew Judge stayed in contact with Betty or her daughters after that.
Since Betty was considered the property of Martha Washington’s dower estate, each and every one of her children was too. Oney Judge was a freckle-faced ten-year-old when she was sent to work inside the mansion house.
Even though Oney Judge was a child herself, she probably helped care for Martha Washington’s two youngest grandchildren, who lived at Mount Vernon. She was about four years older than Nelly Custis and about six years older than G.W.P. Custis.
Judge’s mother had taught her to be a highly skilled seamstress, and eventually she became Martha Washington’s personal maid. As with the position of George Washington’s valet, the demands on a lady’s maid were constant. Judge got up before her mistress and worked long past the time she helped her get ready for bed.
As personal maid, one of her duties was helping dress and undress Martha Washington each day. There were many steps to the process. First she helped her mistress into a fresh white linen shift. Next she put stockings on her feet, smoothed them down, and tied them below the knee with garters to keep them up. Then she worked the whalebone corset over her mistress’s head and pulled the strings to fit it nice and snug. She helped Martha Washington step into the petticoat that extended wide to each side, and tied it around her waist. After that she tied a pocket around her waist that could be accessed through a slit in her skirt. The skirt was next to go on, followed by the bodice of the dress, and then a triangular scarf was draped around the top of the dress to cover the low-cut bodice. Finally, Judge placed cloth shoes on her petite mistress’s tiny feet, and buckled them.
At the end of the day, Oney Judge carefully reversed the process, piece by piece, before helping Martha Washington into her nightgown. Once she had her mistress settled for the night, Judge looked over each article of clothing carefully and wiped them with a dry cloth. If any of the expensive clothes were dirty or stained, she took them away for cleaning. She knew how to remove any sort of spot on the beautiful linen shifts, silk or muslin dresses, stockings, and shoes. If the gold and silver lace that decorated these clothes was dirty, Judge used talc and alcohol to rub them clean. She also saw to it that every article of clothing was neatly folded and ready for the next time they would be needed.
Martha Washington’s role as mistress of the plantation was crucial. Although guests arrived to see her famous husband, it was Lady Washington who charmed them with her warmth, kindness, and friendly conversation. Judge stayed near during these visits—in the background but close enough to hear any order given by the woman who owned her.
The house was Martha Washington’s domain and she supervised every detail. Although the lady of the house did not get up as early as her maid, she did rise each day before the sun. She oversaw breakfast preparations, and checked on those who were working at spinning and laundry and in the dairy. After breakfast she met with the cooks to choose the menu for dinner. In the late morning or early afternoon she gathered some young enslaved women to teach them how to sew and knit, and to create beautiful needlework and embroidery. She also oversaw the cutting of the fabric that would be made into clothing for the people at Mount Vernon. Since Judge had superb skills with a needle, she likely helped the younger girls as well.
Oney Judge was about fifteen years old when George Washington was elected president. She would continue as Martha Washington’s personal maid in New York. But it would take some time for Washington to prepare her household for the move. The first lady, her grandchildren, and the enslaved people she planned to take with them would join the president after his inauguration.
When everything was finally packed and ready for the move in the spring of 1789, Oney Judge and the rest of Martha Washington’s entourage left for New York. As the carriage pulled away from Mount Vernon, Judge left most of her family behind—but she may have been comforted to know that her half brother, Austin, would be traveling north with her. Austin was at least seventeen years older than Judge.
May 27, 1789, was a special day. It was the day Lady Washington would join her husband, the very first president of the United States, in their official residence. That morning, Judge helped Martha Washington dress in a beautiful white gown and styled her hair.
Oney Judge was with her mistress when they arrived with great fanfare in Elizabethtown, New Jersey. President Washington and several other gentlemen met them there. The group then boarded the federal barge, and thirteen men rowed them toward Manhattan. When the barge passed the battery at the southern tip of the island, a salute was fired from a cannon to welcome Lady Washington to the capital city. Judge heard the boom of the cannon and felt the rumble. The barge turned up the East River and docked at Peck’s Slip.
Oney Judge knew her master and mistress were important people. But on that day she also would have seen how dearly loved George and Martha Washington were. A huge crowd of dignitaries had gathered to meet them. The most influential ladies in New York City welcomed the first lady of America. The governor of New York, George Clinton, led the way as the president, his wife, the grandchildren, and Oney Judge made the short walk to their new home at 3 Cherry Street.
This 1789 map (with inset) of the southern tip of what is now Manhattan shows the location of Peck’s Slip, where Oney Judge and First Lady Martha Washington arrived to join President George Washington. To the right, just a couple of blocks away, is Cherry Street, the location of their first home in the city.
Congress chose the residence on Cherry Street for the president’s house and had it prepared for use as a home and for official functions. They expanded one of the drawing rooms to be used for entertaining, and appointed the house with beautiful mahogany furniture, Chinese porcelain, dishes, glassware, silver and silver-plated pieces, and luxurious window and bed hangings. When it was finished the house was elegant, but no more extravagant than the homes of wealthy people in New York.
Martha Washington’s official duties as first lady began the evening after her arrival. Oney Judge helped her mistress dress for her first dinner, which was attended by foreign dignitaries from France and Spain, Vice President John Adams, the governor, and many other politicians. Every day after was a whirlwind of activities for Lady Washington—and for Judge. In addition to Washington’s responsibilities as first lady, she was also busy getting her grandchildren settled into their new lives. On June 8, 1789, Martha Washington wrote her niece Fanny Bassett Washington, “I have not had one half hour to myself since the day of my arrival.” The same could likely be said of her maid, for when Martha was busy, Oney Judge was even busier.
Oney Judge lived in the president’s house at 3 Cherry Street in New York City. It was Washington’s home and office for the first few months they were in the city. The house no longer exists; the spot where it stood is near the present-day footings of the Brooklyn Bridge.
Everything President Washington and Lady Washington did was noticed by the public. As the president’s wife, Martha Washington had to dress in a way that befitted her station and her personality. While she was first lady, her clothes were simple in design, as they’d always been, but beautifully made from the very best materials. Since it was summer, Judge helped Martha Washington dress in cool white muslin gowns each day. Here at the president’s house, just as at Mount Vernon, it fell to Judge to keep those clothes free of stains. She likely set her mistress’s hair daily with a heated curling iron.
As Martha Washington’s maid at Mount Vernon, Oney Judge herself had worn much nicer clothes than the rough ones issued once a year to most of the enslaved community. But now that national and international visitors would see her, she had to be dressed even better. Soon after they arrived in New York, her mistress ordered Judge several new gowns, stockings, and shoes. While her clothes were not made of silk like Martha Washington’s, they were nevertheless beautiful dresses made from calico, linen, and soft lawn fabric.
The Washington family lived on Cherry Street for a few months, and then moved to a larger house on Broadway that better fit their needs. By the time Congress moved the capital of the United States to Philadelphia, the Washingtons and Oney Judge had lived in New York for about sixteen months.
This silk satin gown was worn by Martha Washington during the presidential years. It is the only one of Martha Washington’s dresses to survive intact. Oney Judge would have dressed her mistress in this gown many times, and kept it clean. As was the fashion of the day, the low-cut bodice was filled in with a fichu (scarf).
Before relocating to Philadelphia, the Washingtons went home to Mount Vernon for a visit. When they set off for Pennsylvania, Oney Judge traveled with them. Senator Robert Morris, who signed both the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, and who was considered the financial expert of the American Revolution, offered his home to be used as the president’s house there. The large, four-story brick mansion was conveniently located at 190 Market Street (also called High Street), just one block from Congress Hall.
Oney Judge was not the only enslaved person from Mount Vernon to be taken to Philadelphia. Her older half brother, Austin, was there with her at the new presidential residence too, along with Christopher Sheels, Hercules, Richmond, Joe, Moll, Giles, and Paris. There were also many hired white workers on hand. Running the president’s house took lots of people.
On February 22, 1791, George Washington’s birthday, Martha Washington gave Oney, Austin, Moll, and Hercules one dollar each so they could buy gifts for their friends and family back at Mount Vernon. It would have been a unique experience for Oney to shop in the big city of Philadelphia for her mother and sister back home.
At the time, Philadelphia was the largest city in America. The population of the city itself was twenty-eight thousand people, but counting the suburbs there were about forty-two thousand in the area. Even after living in New York, Oney Judge may have been impressed by the harbor full of ships, tall buildings, huge churches, a library, the Pennsylvania State House, stores, theaters, and covered public markets.
As Judge accompanied the Washingtons around the bustling city or ran errands for them, she likely had more chances than ever before to make friends. Philadelphia was home to a great variety of people, including free blacks and abolitionists who supported the Gradual Abolition of Slavery Act and who worked to end slavery completely.
Oney Judge was one of the reasons why Attorney General Edmund Randolph came knocking at the front door of the president’s house on Market Street on April 5, 1791. That was the day he paid his fateful visit to Lady Washington with a warning that some of the people he owned were claiming their freedom through the Gradual Abolition Act, and cautioned her that the enslaved men and women she and her husband had brought with them from Mount Vernon might do the same after living in Philadelphia for six months.
Soon after, Oney Judge was on her way to New Jersey with Christopher Sheels to serve Martha Washington while the first lady paid a social call. When they returned to Pennsylvania, the clock had been reset on the teenagers’ six-month residency period in the state.
As the months passed in the president’s house, Judge’s wardrobe was continuously updated. Her mistress ordered chintz dresses, stockings, and cloth shoes for her maid. Judge wore these in the president’s house when ladies visited, as well as when she accompanied Martha Washington on the first lady’s social calls. She also accompanied Nelly Custis when she went visiting. One of Nelly Custis’ dearest friends was Elizabeth Langdon, the daughter of John Langdon, a U.S. senator from New Hampshire. The two girls spent a lot of time together—so for Elizabeth Langdon, Oney Judge was a familiar face.
Although Judge was privy to the social interactions of both Martha Washington and Nelly Custis, as a lady’s maid she was not there to socialize. Stylishly well-dressed Oney Judge likely sat quietly with her dark eyes and freckled face turned toward her needlework as she made delicate stitches. All the while, she would have been watching and waiting for her mistress’s next order.
On June 5, 1792, the Washington family attended a performance in Philadelphia. Martha Washington enjoyed it so much that she gave Oney Judge, her half brother Austin, and Hercules money to see it too. The trio blended into the bustling crowd as they made their way down Market Street toward the Southwark Theater. They walked down the sidewalk while horse-drawn carriages clattered over the cobblestones. That night, a Frenchman named Alexander Placide delighted the crowd with a show that featured comedy, dancing, tightrope walkers, tumbling, and a balancing act.
The next year, the Washingtons enjoyed a new type of entertainment that was available for the first time in America: a circus. Again, they wanted Oney and some of their other enslaved people to experience it too. The show featured the amazing horsemanship skills and riding tricks of John Ricketts. He awed the audience as he rode his galloping horse on his knees and then jumped up over a ribbon twelve feet above the ground. He juggled four oranges while riding at full speed. Between his tricks came performances by a tightrope walker and funny clowns. For the grand finale, with his horse charging, Ricketts balanced with one foot on his saddle, while on his shoulder a boy stood on one foot.
These rare entertainment opportunities must have been temporary distractions for Judge. Yet life continued as it always had for her and the other enslaved staff at the president’s house. For Washington’s enslaved people, there was a glaring difference between them and the rest of the people who served there. Most of the individuals who worked at the president’s house were paid white and free black workers from Philadelphia. Oney Judge, Austin, and the others from Mount Vernon were not employees. The Washington family owned them.
Later in 1793, Washington was reelected and began his second term. The next year, just before Christmas, Austin was sent back to Mount Vernon for a brief trip. He traveled alone and stopped to spend the night at Harford, Maryland, at an inn owned by Mrs. Elizabeth Stiles. A hard rain pounded on the roof that night, and the downpour caused the water level in the nearby stream to rise to about three feet deep. Early the next morning, Austin saddled and mounted his horse to continue his journey. One of the enslaved boys from the inn waited near the stream just in case Austin’s horse balked at going into the cold, moving water.
Austin urged his horse forward. In the middle of the stream Austin stopped so his mare could get a drink. Suddenly Austin dropped the reins, grabbed the horse’s mane, and slumped over. The horse reacted by turning around. The movement threw Austin out of the saddle. He went underwater. The boy watching from the bank realized Austin’s foot was caught in the stirrup, and he dashed through the water to help. Once he had pulled Austin’s head above water, he screamed for assistance.
Help arrived and Austin was carried back to the inn. But he couldn’t talk. Mrs. Stiles immediately called for the doctor, who believed Austin had suffered a stroke while on his horse. The doctor administered the only remedy he knew, which was to bleed Austin. But the treatment did not help.
Austin died at about one o’clock in the afternoon on December 20, 1794. He was in his late thirties or early forties. Mrs. Stiles arranged for a coffin to be built for him. After a funeral, Austin was buried in Harford.
Washington must have been known to hold Austin in high regard, since several different people wrote to tell the president exactly what happened. John Carlile, who had been a captain in the Continental Army during the Revolution, wrote that he believed the circumstances would be of interest to “an indulgent master.”
Oney Judge was likely grief-stricken over Austin’s death. Since her half brother was so much older than she, Austin may have been a father figure to her. She had no way to personally communicate with the rest of her family about Austin’s death, since none of them had been taught to read or write. She could not have sent comforting words to her elderly mother, Betty, even if she had wanted to.
Despite her loss, Oney Judge carried on. More gowns, stockings, and shoes were ordered for her as the old ones grew worn. Every day she continued to help her mistress dress and undress, clean her mistress’s clothes, set and dress her mistress’s hair, place jewelry around her mistress’s neck, serve her mistress tea, make social calls with her, run errands, and do needlework.
Judge wore beautiful clothes too, but none of them truly belonged to her. She lived in a luxurious house, but it wasn’t her home. She walked down the street, but couldn’t keep going and going if she wanted to. Martha Washington gave Judge many things, except the one thing she wanted: freedom.
In 1795, Oney Judge was twenty-one years old. She had worked as Martha Washington’s personal maid for more than half her life. She knew her mistress well, as she did her mistress’s grandchildren, Nelly and G.W.P. Custis, who lived with them. Judge also knew Martha Washington’s two oldest granddaughters, Betsy and Patty Custis. These girls lived with their mother, Eleanor Custis Stuart, but spent a lot of time visiting Mount Vernon. When Betsy and Patty Custis were visiting Martha Washington, Judge probably served them just as she did their grandmother and their siblings.
Patty Custis married Thomas Peter early in 1795. A couple of months later, her sister Betsy Custis wrote her grandmother to ask if she could come to Philadelphia for a visit. With her younger sister married before her, Betsy Custis appears to have been depressed. On April 6, 1795, Martha Washington wrote to her niece Fanny Bassett Washington that Betsy Custis spent her time alone and took “no delight” in going out to visit people, attend functions, or go to church. She continued that her grandaughter “often complains of not being well—she took ill when she first came here—but is much better and looks better tho she does not like to be told so.”
The next month, on May 12, 1795, Martha Washington wrote Fanny Bassett Washington, “Betsy you know is often complaining.” Their grandmother mentioned that Betsy and Nelly Custis seemed to have no time to do their work, and that although they “stand at the window all day to look at what is doing in the street Betsy does not take much pleasure in going out to visit.”
Later that year, the difficult Betsy Custis met Thomas Law. He was twice her age and had three sons. Early the next year George and Martha Washington were surprised to learn that Betsy Custis planned to marry Law. Before their marriage on March 21, 1796, the president wrote letters of congratulations and extended an invitation for the couple to visit them in Philadelphia.
It may have been during this honeymoon visit that Judge heard the horrible news: Martha Washington had decided that after her own death, Betsy Custis Law would inherit Judge.
Judge was two years older than Betsy Custis and had known her all her life. Judge knew the girl was sullen, lazy, and difficult. The thought of being owned by Betsy Custis Law was probably horrendous.
Oney Judge didn’t want to be owned by anyone.
She wanted to be free.
Judge knew she had to escape.
But how?
As the summer of 1796 approached, the Washington family began planning their usual summer visit to Mount Vernon. It was Washington’s final year as president, and this would be the last summer they would make a temporary visit to Mount Vernon. The next spring they would move back home permanently.
Oney Judge likely figured this was her best—and possibly only—chance to run. Having been in the president’s house since the beginning, she knew what had happened to Christopher Sheels a few years before: the Washingtons had left Sheels at Mount Vernon after a trip home. Judge must have known that it was possible the Washingtons might leave her behind at Mount Vernon when they returned to Philadelphia for the last few months of Washington’s presidency.
Escape from Mount Vernon in Virginia would be far more challenging than escaping from Pennsylvania. In Philadelphia, there were plenty of white abolitionists and free black friends to help her.
To succeed, Judge could not make the Washington family suspicious. She had to look as she always looked. She had to speak as she always spoke. She had to act as she always acted.
So, as usual, Oney Judge worked diligently to help prepare the Washington family for the trip back home. As usual, she packed her own belongings. Only this time, she had a different destination in mind for them. She made secret arrangements for her clothes to be taken to the home of a friend in Philadelphia. Their absence went unnoticed by anyone.
On May 21, 1796, as usual, the Washington family sat down for dinner at three o’clock. And that is when Oney Judge slipped out the door of the president’s house. She blended into the Saturday afternoon crowd on Market Street and made her way toward the home of some free black friends in the city.
No one she passed on the street could have known what was going through Judge’s mind. Was her heart pounding in her ears as each step took her farther and farther away? Did her pace quicken as she walked away from the main street? Was she tempted to glance back over her shoulder to see if she was followed? Did she cautiously look around the street to see who might recognize her? Did she have an alibi ready, an explanation for why she was out, if she was stopped? How long would it take before Martha Washington discovered she was gone?
Oney Judge reached her friends’ house. At some point later that day, she made her way to the harbor. She headed for a single-masted sloop bound for Portsmouth, New Hampshire, named the Nancy, which was under the command of Captain John Bolles. When Judge boarded his ship, perhaps Captain Bolles knew exactly who his passenger was and why she was traveling alone. Perhaps he did not. Either way, he did not stop her.
Finally the ship set sail, leaving Philadelphia behind. When the Nancy reached the open sea the sail snapped as it caught the wind. Perhaps relief washed over Oney Judge in that moment. Perhaps the sun warmed her freckled face. Perhaps salty air whipped through her dark hair.
The trip from Philadelphia to Portsmouth took about five days. Oney Judge may have been filled with questions about her future. How could she support herself in New Hampshire? Would Washington search for her? What would happen if she was discovered?
In that moment, however, one thing was certain: she was free.
Historical records show that Martha Washington was shocked and hurt when she discovered Oney Judge had run away. President Washington’s surprise over her escape turned to determination to get his wife’s property back. Shortly after her disappearance, Frederick Kitt, the steward of the president’s house, placed a runaway-slave advertisement in the newspaper. It read:
“ABSCONDED from the household of the President of the United States, ONEY JUDGE, a light mulatto girl, much freckled, with very black eyes and bushy hair. She is of middle stature, slender, and delicately formed, about 20 years of age.
“She has many changes of good clothes, of all sorts, but they are not sufficiently recollected to be described—As there was no suspicion of her going off, nor no provocation to do so, it is not easy to conjecture whither she has gone, or fully, what her design is; but as she may attempt to escape by water, all masters of vessels are cautioned against admitting her into them, although it is probable she will attempt to pass for a free woman, and has, it is said, wherewithal to pay her passage.
“Ten dollars will be paid to any person who will bring her home, if taken in the city, or on board any vessel in the harbour;—and a reasonable additional sum if apprehended at, and brought from a greater distance, and in proportion to the distance.
“FREDERICK KITT, Steward.
May 23”
When word got out that Oney Judge had run away, reports of possible sightings were sent to the president. One said she had been seen in New York City. Another report claimed she was seen in Boston. Washington wasn’t sure if any of the rumors were true. It seemed she had disappeared without a trace.
After Oney Judge disappeared, this runaway ad was published in the May 24, 1796, edition of the Pennsylvania Gazette in Philadelphia. Frederick Kitt was the steward, or manager, of Washington’s presidential household.
After Judge landed in Portsmouth, she lived there as a free woman and found work as a seamstress. But only a few months after she arrived, she was walking down the street when she spotted someone she knew—and who knew her. In fact, they knew each other well. It was Elizabeth Langdon, the dear friend of Nelly Custis, whose father was the senator and a friend of George Washington’s.
Oney Judge saw Elizabeth Langdon. Elizabeth Langdon saw Oney Judge. Elizabeth stopped to talk—but Judge brushed past her and kept going. This was not a social call, as their previous encounters had been. Oney Judge was now a runaway and Elizabeth was a girl who could identify her.
Judge knew Elizabeth would tell her father. And soon, President Washington would know where she was.
Washington did indeed find out that Judge was in Portsmouth. On September 1, 1796, he wrote a letter to Oliver Wolcott Jr., his Secretary of the Treasury, explaining that Judge had “been the particular attendant on Mrs Washington since she was ten years old; and was handy & useful to her, being perfect Mistress of her needle.” Washington asked Wolcott to ask the man who oversaw the port of Portsmouth to “recover and send her back.”
President Washington considered Judge to be “simple and inoffensive” and unable to plan her own escape. He believed she was enticed away by a Frenchman. To Wolcott he explained, “It is certain the escape has been planned by some one who knew what he was about, & had the means to defray the expence of it & to entice her off.” He ended his letter by saying, “I am sorry to give you, or any one else trouble on such a trifling occasion—but the ingratitude of the girl, who was brought up & treated more like a child than a servant (& Mrs Washington’s desire to recover her) ought not to escape with impu[nity] if it can be avoided.”
From Washington’s perspective, he and his wife had treated Judge with care and kindness. To his mind, she had never been mistreated. She had never worked in the fields under the sweltering Virginia sun like most of the other enslaved women. She had been given nice gowns, bonnets, stockings, and cloth shoes to wear. She had lived in New York City and Philadelphia, where she attended various types of entertainment. George and Martha Washington couldn’t imagine why she would want to run away.
Oney Judge’s perspective was very different: Someone else owned her. She wanted to be free.
Wolcott did as the president asked and contacted the customs officer at Portsmouth, Joseph Whipple. On October 4, 1796, Whipple reported back to Wolcott on the situation. He’d found out that Judge was staying with friends, and booked passage for her on a sailing ship back to Philadelphia. Now he needed to speak with her.
Whipple approached Judge under the pretense of wanting to hire her to work in his home. But when he talked with her, Whipple dropped the charade and told her about Washington’s letter and why he had come.
Judge told Whipple in no uncertain terms that she had not been enticed away by a French gentleman. Her only reason for escaping was “a thirst for compleat freedom.”
Whipple wrote to Wolcott, saying that “she expressed great affection & Reverence for her Master & Mistress, and without hesitation declared her willingness to return & to serve with fidelity during the lives of the President & his Lady if she could be freed on their decease, should she outlive them, but that she should rather suffer death than return to Slavery & liable to be sold or given to any other person.”
Judge’s suggestion that she return to the Washingtons for the rest of their lives seemed reasonable to Whipple. He was sure the arrangement would be acceptable to the president. By the time Whipple left Judge that day, she’d agreed to return to Philadelphia aboard a ship that was leaving in a few hours, and assured Whipple that she would not tell her friends what she was planning to do.
But the weather turned bad that day and the ship was unable to sail. The next day, Judge’s friends found out that she was planning to return to the Washingtons. There is no record of what her friends said to her that day. Perhaps they begged her not to go. Perhaps they questioned why she would want to return to slavery after escaping it. Perhaps they argued that Judge didn’t know for sure that the Washingtons would free her after they died.
Whatever they said made a difference. Oney Judge did not board that ship.
Many runaways fled to New Hampshire. Whipple explained to Wolcott that the opinion of most in his state was “in favor of universal freedom.” This meant it was difficult to send them back to their masters once they reached New Hampshire. Whipple had suggested that the president go through legal channels to “adopt such measures for returning her to her master as are authorized by the Constitution of the United States.”
Oliver Wolcott shared Whipple’s letter with George Washington. The president was not happy about it. In response to Whipple’s suggestion that Judge be freed after their deaths, Washington wrote directly to Joseph Whipple, “To enter into such a compromise, as she has suggested to you, is totally inadmissible…for however well disposed I might be to a gradual abolition, or even to an entire emancipation of that description of People (if the latter was itself practicable at this Moment) it would neither be politic or just, to reward unfaithfulness with a premature preference; and thereby discontent, beforehand, the minds of all her fellow Servants; who by their steady adherence, are far more deserving than herself, of favor.”
Washington clarified that Judge’s “conduct will be forgiven by her Mistress” if she returned with no expectation of being freed after their deaths. If Judge did not return, Washington wanted her to be “put on board a Vessel.”
By this time, Washington had privately expressed his hope that legislation would one day abolish slavery, and he had decided not to buy or sell any more enslaved people. But his changing views on slavery did not influence how he felt about runaways—especially runaways from his own family. He was determined to hunt down any who dared escape. As long as slavery was legal, Washington would control his property and the property of his wife as he saw fit. He absolutely would not make a deal with Oney Judge, no matter how much his wife wanted her back. To his way of thinking, to make an agreement with Judge would be rewarding a runaway. And that could cause unrest in the whole of his enslaved community.
Another factor, of course, that Washington had to consider was the fact that since Judge was one of the people who was owned by his wife’s dower estate, even Martha Washington could not free her. She had to remain in the Custis family after Martha Washington’s death, whether she was inherited by Betsy Custis or someone else.
Judge’s escape put Washington in a difficult position. When she disappeared, Washington reacted as a slave owner and posted a runaway ad in the newspaper. But he was no ordinary citizen; he was the president of the United States. Washington had political enemies who would use any sort of scandal against him. While he wanted to get Judge back, the president didn’t want to create a scene.
Washington wanted Judge to be put on a ship, but he explained to Whipple that he did not “mean however, by this request, that such violent measures should be used as would excite a mob or riot, which might be the case if she has adherents, or even uneasy sensations in the minds of well disposed Citizens.”
Washington would rather let Judge go than make a deal with her, or cause a public scandal.
When Whipple answered President Washington on December 22, 1796, he explained that no ships were ready to depart for either Alexandria or Philadelphia. Whipple also wrote that Judge had applied for a license to marry a free biracial man.
In early January 1797, Samuel Haven performed the wedding of Oney Judge and John (Jack) Staines, who was a sailor. Their marriage was recorded by the town clerk in Greenland, New Hampshire, and announced in the January 14 edition of the New Hampshire Gazette.
Oney Judge Staines lived like an emancipated woman. But deep down, she knew she wasn’t completely free. Even though she’d successfully escaped from her mistress, even though she was married to a free man, legally she belonged to Martha Washington’s dower estate.
As months turned to years Martha Washington still missed Oney Judge and wanted her back. Two years after she escaped—and probably at his wife’s insistence—Washington attempted once more to get her back. On August 11, 1799, Washington wrote his nephew Burwell Bassett Jr. that if he could recover the runaway it would “be a pleasing circumstance to your Aunt.” He cautioned Bassett not to do anything that would be “unpleasant, or troublesome” in his efforts to retrieve her. Washington clarified again that if she returned, Judge would not be punished for running away. But she would not be freed.
When Bassett found Oney Judge Staines, her husband was away at sea. By this time she had a child, a daughter named Eliza. If Bassett couldn’t get Oney Judge Staines to go voluntarily, he planned to take her and her child by force. He was staying as a guest in the home of John Langdon and his daughter Elizabeth, the young woman who had recognized Oney Judge on the street in Portsmouth. But when Bassett told Senator Langdon his plans, Langdon sent a secret messenger to Oney Judge Staines. He warned her to leave the city by midnight, or she would be taken back to Mount Vernon.
Terror must have gripped her when she heard this message. She had to get away, and she had to hide her daughter, who legally belonged to Martha Washington’s estate. It didn’t matter that Oney Judge Staines had been living for three years as a free woman five hundred miles from Mount Vernon. Bassett could come for her and her child at any moment.
With no time to lose, Oney Judge Staines took Eliza and ran to a stable to hire a boy with a horse and carriage. With her husband away, she left for the home of her free black friends, Phyllis and John Jack. The Jack family lived eight miles away in Greenland, New Hampshire.
Bassett didn’t know where she had gone.
Once again, Oney Judge Staines disappeared without a trace.
