Never Caught

by Erica Armstrong Dunbar

  The moment she had dreaded was finally in front of her. Judge had been informed upon and now she stood before one of the president’s appointed officials, a white man, wondering how long it would take before she was sent back to slavery. But there was something that soothed her tightly wound nerves. To Judge, Whipple seemed like a nice enough man; that is, he hadn’t yet called for the constable to have her arrested.

  Realizing that he had given away his own intentions, Whipple sensed the fugitive’s fear. He had no choice but to come clean with Judge and to convince her that he was an ally, not an enemy. Yes, he had been given a mandate by Washington, but he had his own solution to her dilemma. Rather than tell her what to do, Whipple consulted with her, asked her why she had run away, and discussed possible alternatives to a life of enslavement back in Virginia or elsewhere. During their discussion, the fugitive realized that the customs collector would not use brute force to capture her. Rather, he wanted to talk to her, to reason with her; he gave Judge the courage to speak her mind.

  Her language shifted from sugary deference to proclamations of righteous indignation. The kind words she offered about the Washingtons toward the beginning of their conversation transformed into declarations of intent. She told Whipple that under no circumstances would she return to slavery, where she could be “sold or given to any person.” She would rather die than return.

  At an impasse, Whipple thought that compromise was the only way forward and assured the fugitive that he could negotiate with the president on her behalf. Washington might agree to arrange for Judge’s freedom in the future, once he and Mrs. Washington were deceased. This compromise would allow for Judge to return to her family, the relative luxurious conditions she had come to know, and end her shadowy life as a fugitive. All she had to do was trust him, a tall order for any black fugitive to contemplate.

  Judge realized the tables had turned and the customs collector was now negotiating with the fugitive, asking her to listen to his advice and imploring her to travel voluntarily back to Philadelphia. Judge realized that she simply needed to leave. Her resolve was as solid as the granite found throughout the earth in her new state. She told Whipple what he wanted to hear, agreed to return to her owners, and left his presence with no intention of ever keeping her word. Whipple told Judge that he would arrange passage for her on a ship, promising her a smooth transition back to the Washington household and to life as a slave.

  Judge politely agreed to meet the ship when it was scheduled to depart. She left the customs collector, most likely returning home to her hosts. If the president wanted to claim his fugitive, he would have to do it by force. She would never return to the Washingtons, not if she could help it.

  Whipple’s plan to return the fugitive was delayed as bad weather prevented ships from leaving Portsmouth. After a few days, the sea settled itself, finally allowing vessels to safely leave port. The customs collector sent word to Judge, giving her a time to meet for her departure and eventual reunion with the Washingtons. It was Whipple’s duty to see the fugitive off, so he most likely paced the docks, awaiting her arrival. Repeatedly checking his timepiece, he grew anxious as the minutes turned into hours. Whipple probably convinced himself that there was some kind of miscommunication, perhaps asking the ship’s captain to wait a bit longer before leaving port. But then, everything became crystal clear. Just as Whipple had lured Ona Judge to his home with a false employment opportunity, she in turn, sent him on a fool’s mission. The fugitive never had any intentions of leaving Portsmouth. Two could play at subterfuge.

  If Judge ever wavered in her conviction, the small black community of Portsmouth made it their priority to buttress her resolve. Once her friends caught wind of the concocted compromise, they worked in earnest to convince her to remain in Portsmouth. Judge was “dissuaded from returning and the Vessel sailed without her.” The bondwoman avoided the empty promises of Washington’s associate who’d been tasked with the uncomfortable business of hunting fugitives. Whipple was left empty-handed.

  Even though the fugitive had misled Whipple, he wasn’t angry with her. He knew that his failed attempt at slave catching would prove thorny with the president, but he couldn’t blame Judge for her response. How could anyone want to return to a life of slavery? Instead of worrying about Judge, he turned his attention to the next task at hand—informing Secretary Wolcott that he was unsuccessful at apprehending the runaway. As he sat down to pen the difficult letter, he understood the need for diplomacy. Whipple needed to demonstrate that his attempt at capturing Ona Judge simply fell short and, under no circumstances, let on that he wasn’t unhappy about his failure. His tone was apologetic, explaining that he had found Judge, investigated the situation, and had uncovered several important details. He wrote,

  After a cautious examination it appeared to me that she had not been decoyed away as had been apprehended, but that a thirst for compleat freedom which she was informed would take place on her arrival here or Boston had been her only motive for absconding.

  The customs collector knew that this information, as well as the rest of his letter, would trouble Wolcott and the president, so he tried to disengage the bomb that he knew was about to explode. He spoke well of Ona Judge, and made note of how respectful she was of the first family. According to Whipple, Judge was kind with her words and affectionate toward the president and his wife:

  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.

  The only way Whipple could see Ona Judge returning was if she were eventually set free, and he went so far as to negotiate on her behalf. Audaciously, Whipple told Wolcott and thus the president, that gradual emancipation was the best route to follow. The customs collector dared to tell the first president of the United States that he should consider abandoning slavery, and that he should begin with Ona Judge.

  Whipple may have suspected what was sure to follow the receipt of his letter—an escalated attempt to reclaim the fugitive, which he thought was a pointless task, though he didn’t say so in such direct terms. Instead, he reminded Wolcott of the changing attitudes in New Hampshire, attitudes that were no longer congruent with the institution of slavery. Not only were whites in New Hampshire unlikely to support the covert actions of the president, but blacks would also do their best to shield fugitives from a return to slavery. Whipple wrote,

  I am informed that many Slaves from the Southern States have come to Massachusetts & some to New Hampshire, either of which States they consider as an Asylum; the popular opinion here in favor of universal freedom has rendered it difficult to get them back to their masters.

  Careful not to explicitly state his own feelings about slavery, Whipple pointed the Secretary in a new direction, one that would take this matter out of the hands of the customs collector and place it in the control of different authorities. Whipple told Wolcott that Ona Judge was immovable and would not be convinced to return of her own free will. Given the circumstances, the customs collector felt it best for the president to hire a lawyer and that all future inquiries “should come from an Officer of the President’s Household to the Attorney of the United States in New Hampshire.”

  Whipple wanted out. He knew that the situation was a hornet’s nest, and once it became clear that Ona Judge could not be whisked away in the middle of the night, he backed away from the messy business of slave catching. Whipple concluded his letter ending his direct involvement with the messy affair. He wrote, “It is with regret that I give up the prospect of executing the business in the favourable manner that I at first flattered myself it would be done.”

  If Washington wanted his slave woman back, he would have to follow the law and consequently expose himself to the growing antislavery sentiment in New Hampshire and across New England.

  Oliver Wolcott informed the president of Whipple’s
botched attempt at reclaiming the runaway slave. In a moment of anger and frustration, Washington released Wolcott from his slave-catching duties and on November 28, 1796, wrote directly to Joseph Whipple. He addressed Whipple’s suggestions about emancipation, stating, “To enter into such a compromise with her, . . . is totally inadmissible.” The president was offended by the simple thought of negotiating with one of his slaves. He found Judge’s conduct reprehensible, and refused to reward bad behavior with the promise of freedom. Perhaps in an attempt to massage the moral beliefs of Whipple, Washington went on to hint at his own misgivings about slavery, stating,

  for however well disposed I might be to gradual abolition, or even to an entire emancipation of that description of People (if the latter was in itself practicable at this moment) it would neither be politic or just to reward unfaithfulness with a premature preference.

  The president’s attitudes regarding African slavery did soften during the latter years of his life; by the 1780s, years before Judge ran away, he discussed his growing unease with lifelong enslavement with close friends such as Tobias Lear and the French military officer and Revolutionary comrade the Marquis de Lafayette. But Washington was not willing to entertain a life without bound labor and was certainly unwilling to offer Judge anything but a return voyage home to Virginia. The president explained that he would offer fairness to his runaway; however, he could do no more, as her actions were impudent and unacceptable.

  Although Washington leveled subtle accusations of mishandling the situation, he refused to allow the customs collector to back out of his assignment. That was simply not a choice that the president was willing to offer to his appointed official. He directed Whipple to assure the fugitive that she would not be punished for her momentary lack of good judgment. The president wrote that Judge “will be forgiven by her Mistress, and she will meet with the same treatment from me that all the rest of her family (which is a very numerous one) shall receive.” This apparent olive branch to Judge was in actuality a thinly veiled threat. Fugitive slaves knew all too well about the risk of reprisals that often affected family members, and the casual mention of Judge’s family served as a reminder to Judge that the punishment for her escape could land squarely on the shoulders of her immediate family. This was the only way in which the president would negotiate with his slave woman; he demanded that Judge come back into his possession or face the knowledge that her actions could cause pain and suffering for her family members.

  If Judge decided not to return voluntarily, Whipple was instructed to place the bondwoman on a vessel bound for Alexandria or the Federal City, directly back into the jaws of slavery. Washington made it clear that he did not want Whipple to use extreme force with Judge, for he knew that this could cause a public disturbance or “would excite a mob or riot,” something that Washington did not want to confront during the last few months of his presidency.

  The president reminded Whipple to use discretion and not to show his cards as he had on his first encounter with the fugitive. As a Revolutionary War hero, Washington understood the importance of strategy, and he knew surprise was sometimes the best weapon in battle. The act of capture would only work with discretion, and if done properly, Judge could be returned home with relative speed, something that the president wished for the benefit of Mrs. Washington, who was “desirous of receiving her again.” Yet it was the last few sentences in Washington’s letter that revealed another motive for the speedy return of his property:

  We had vastly rather she should be sent to Virginia than brought to this place [Philadelphia], as our stay here will be but short; and it is not unlikely that she may, from the circumstances I have mentioned, be in a state of pregnancy.

  So now the president believed that Ona Judge was pregnant. If this was true, the First Family’s property had increased, and the president was now hunting Ona Judge and her unborn child.

  Almost an entire month passed before Whipple returned Washington’s letter. The customs collector may have been unusually busy, but it’s more likely he was at a loss for words and worried about the repercussions of failing to collect and retrieve the president’s slave. It wasn’t until December 22 that Whipple sat down to write to the president. With only three months left to Washington’s term in office, Whipple was careful in his tone, apologizing to the first lady for his inability to apprehend Judge:

  I sincerely Lament the ill success of my endeavours to restore to your Lady her servant on the request of Mr Wolcott—It had indeed become a subject of Anxiety to me on an Idea that her services were very valuable to her mistress and not readily to be replaced.

  Whipple responded to some of the claims leveled by the president in their last correspondence, making certain Washington understood that he was not at fault. If anything, Whipple was insulted that the president didn’t understand the extent to which he had even tried to protect Washington’s reputation among the men and women of New Hampshire. In his estimation, he had worked in the best interests of the president.

  Still, no appointed official wanted to raise the ire of the president, so Whipple halfheartedly agreed to do all that was possible to continue with the plans of returning Judge. He made it clear that he would continue to pursue her as long as there was no public cry of outrage. Whipple made no promises, stating that he would need to decide for himself if the conditions were suitable for the return of a fugitive.

  Whipple ended his letter with a promise to help in whatever way possible, but not before offering a piece of political advice. Although the president was on his way out of office, Whipple, for the moment, had the president’s ear, and suggested that gradual emancipation would be the only way to stem the tide of fugitives who would cause disruption for white Northerners, Southern slaveholders, and for the runaways themselves. Slave owners (such as the president) could “prevent this growing evil” and menace of fugitive slaves—all they had to do was let go of human bondage.

  Perhaps Whipple was compelled by his own feelings and concerns regarding slavery, but more likely, his inability and unwillingness to serve the president was linked to his changing political allegiance. Both he and his friend John Langdon had shifted away from the Federalist Party, prompting Whipple to feel no real obligation to serve the outgoing president. While he never articulated a personal reservation about the moral bankruptcy of the institution of slavery, Whipple expressed support for gradual abolition, a strategy that would honor the financial investments of slaveholders and that would allow for emancipated men and women to remain in their own states. A prolonged ending of slavery might reverse the trend of fugitives heading North, disentangling the residents of New Hampshire and all of New England from the knot of Southern slavery. Whipple’s letter made one thing clear: Washington could not depend on the help of appointed or elected officers in New Hampshire to get Judge back to Virginia.

  The president never wrote back to Whipple about Ona Judge, accepting that his influence over the customs collector was far less than he had anticipated. He realized that he wouldn’t be able to recapture the fugitive, at least not immediately. Martha Washington would need to be patient and select a different slave to serve their newly married granddaughter, a task that shouldn’t prove difficult given the hundreds of available slaves at Mount Vernon. Instead, Washington would turn his attention to the transfer of power to John Adams, his Massachusetts-born vice president, who had just weeks before narrowly won the first contested American presidential election. Washington needed to focus on a seamless administrative transition and a permanent relocation back to his beloved Mount Vernon. Tracking down a fugitive slave would not make its way onto the president’s list of priorities.

  Ona Judge was safe, for now.

  Twelve

  * * *

  Mrs. Staines

  New-Hampshire Gazette, January 14, 1797. Courtesy of the New Hampshire Historical Society.

  Three days after Whipple penned his December letter to the president, Judge celebrated her first Christmas away from
the Washingtons. Her meager wages would not have allowed Judge to purchase gifts for her new friends in Portsmouth, but she may have presented them with nuts or a small amount of chocolate, token offers of appreciation for all that they had done for her. The year that had passed had been dizzying. And while she was grateful for the freedom that she had stolen from the Washingtons, her joy would always be tempered. Her loved ones remained enslaved back at Mount Vernon, and the guilt of her successful escape must have weighed constantly on her heart. Most fugitives coaxed their minds into temporary amnesia, creating an emotional distance from the memory of their pasts. Judge pushed her pain and sadness deep into the recesses of her soul—it would be the only way for her to move forward with a new life.

  And move forward she did. News of the single young woman would have spread quickly through the small black community, and eligible bachelors would have taken notice of the newcomer, even with her complicated fugitive status. It was Jack Staines who caught her attention.

  Judge was a quick study and soon understood that she needed to find a husband. In eighteenth-century America, a woman (white or black) needed a spouse for protection and survival. Independent living was no easy task for Judge, and although she was able to pick up low-paying domestic work, black women knew that two incomes were almost always necessary. Although free black men were constantly disrespected and trapped in the web of racial discrimination, they carried some power in their male bodies, power that would allow Ona Judge to have a chance for security and maybe even prosperity.