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  Domestic labor was the only opportunity that Judge had to carve out a meager living, and she grabbed it, quickly finding a position in a local home. Most black women, no matter their status as enslaved or free, engaged in backbreaking domestic labor that proved cruel to the human body. They toiled in the homes of New England’s white residents, cooking, cleaning, and tending to the personal needs of their employers. Although Judge was accustomed to being on call in a domestic capacity for Martha Washington, she did not do the heaviest and most physically taxing labor required in an eighteenth-century home. The Washingtons’ large staff allowed for white servants and male slaves to provide assistance with difficult domestic chores, freeing Judge to tend to the delicate and intimate needs of her owner. In New Hampshire, she could not be so selective.

  Black domestics scrubbed floors, washed laundry, cooked meals, and cleaned the homes of their employers, difficult chores in the snowy winters of New England. Judge and other women, both black and white, tore muscles and broke bones as they strained to carry large loads of laundry, assisted in the fields of rural New Hampshire, and toted heavy cauldrons of water for meal preparation and bathing. Arguably, one of the most physically taxing responsibilities of a domestic was the preparation of the wash. Enslaved and free domestics began their days carrying ten- and twenty-gallon containers of water from the pump back to the home. It could take upward of one hundred gallons of water per day to complete all the washing and cooking required for a single family. This necessity could send black women to and from the pump up to five times per day. Arm strength alone was not sufficient, prompting black women to reach back to their ancestral traditions. Black domestics often carried large containers of water upon their heads, an age-old method used in Africa, but one that could lead to curved spines and skull fractures. More than taxing, icy and snow-covered footpaths could make the difficult task of water retrieval a dangerous journey.

  In addition to water retrieval, domestics and laundresses also built the fire necessary for washing, bending their backs over hot wooden tubs for hours at a time. Before the washing process began, Judge and other domestics would have made soap by hand from lye and animal fat, using wood ashes, dung, or hemlock to remove stains. Once the water was collected and brought to the house, the arduous labor of washing the clothes began. Judge stirred the clothes in boiling water and then had to wring each article of clothing or linen by hand and hang them to dry. After thorough drying, clothing and bed linens would need to be ironed, another time-consuming and often dangerous and terribly hot task.

  Food preparation also required countless hours of dedicated work and consumed much of the day. Ona Judge had never been charged with feeding her owners or herself. Hercules and a kitchen staff prepared each meal for the first family and their slaves and servants. Judge would now have to learn how to cook, and to cook well. Surely she had watched the slaves at Mount Vernon make hoecakes and prepare fish stew, but there was a difference between watching and doing. Her new black friends in Portsmouth would have provided recipes and culinary tips suitable to Northern palates. Presenting as a bad cook could earn any domestic a swift dismissal.

  Black domestics, both enslaved and free, would rise early in the morning to prepare the breakfast meal. The kneading of dough and the baking of bread, in addition to the plucking of chickens and cutting of vegetables promoted early signs of arthritis in the fingers and hands of domestics. Torn and fatigued muscles received little care as enslaved women and live-in domestics were often allotted living spaces in the coldest and least-insulated locations of the household. Forced to sleep in cellars or attics, slaves were contained in the most out-of-the-way spaces. Attics contained very little to no ventilation, promising unbearably cold conditions in the winter and stifling heat during the summers. The conditions of slavery and servitude wore on the black female body, ensuring that the majority of black women in New England did not live beyond the age of forty. Yet Judge had few choices but to become a domestic and a laundress, choosing to endure physically punishing work in New Hampshire, rather than accept her life as a slave. That Judge elected to become a domestic, that she chose to endure physically punishing work in New Hampshire, rather than remain a slave, says everything we need know about how much she valued freedom.

  Human bondage had existed in New England for more than 150 years. African slavery was first legalized in Massachusetts in 1641, unleashing the traffic in human souls to spread quickly throughout the rest of the Northern colonies. Black men and women lived and worked in the seaport of Portsmouth as early as 1645, when the earliest-known African first arrived. Slave trader Captain Smith arrived in New England with a handful of bound laborers who had survived the long and horrific Middle Passage. Smith sold one human to a “Mr. Williams of Piscataquak.” No name or details remain about the captive who arrived in New England; however, he probably spent his life toiling against his will for Mr. Williams in some capacity.

  New Hampshire watched the town of Portsmouth develop with the assistance of slave labor, and while it didn’t grow a cash crop such as tobacco or rice, it had its own list of hazards for Africans. The journey to New England was long, forcing Africans to endure the unconceivable atrocities of the Middle Passage beyond the shores of West Africa or the islands of the Caribbean. Many perished before stepping foot onto the New England colonies, a reality confronted by slave owner William Pepperell of Kittery Point, Maine. In 1719 Pepperell purchased five enslaved Africans from the island of Antigua, and only one of his bound laborers, a woman, survived the journey. After only three weeks in New England, she, too, succumbed to illness. The extreme cold and acclimation to life in New England found slave owners like Pepperell in jeopardy of losing a great deal of wealth in the risky business of slave trading.

  But when Ona Judge arrived in New Hampshire, she encountered a state that was on its way to ending the institution of slavery. Since the Fugitive Slave Law of 1793 allowed slave owners to cross state lines to retrieve their human property, it was important for runaways to find communities that were at the very least rethinking the institution of human bondage. After Judge stepped onto the shores of Portsmouth, she would eventually meet and come to know many, if not all, of the town’s black residents, whether free or enslaved. These men and women of Portsmouth cautiously watched the change in state laws that appeared to welcome additional sources of labor.

  New Hampshire began to wrestle with the issue of slavery in the decade prior to Judge’s arrival, joining Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island in its reconsideration of human bondage. Although a bill of rights promised equality and liberty to the citizens of New Hampshire, slavery continued for decades. A revised tax code of 1789 lifted the hopes of men and women held in bondage, as new wording stated, “Slaves cease to be known and held as property.” But the optimism of the enslaved was dashed as the majority of slave owners in New Hampshire did not move to emancipate their slaves but instead read the new code as a tax relief that exempted their human bondage as a tax liability.

  The slow process of gradual emancipation moved in fits and starts across New England, but in Judge’s new home of Portsmouth, human bondage disappeared by 1805. Similar to other urban or coastal cities and towns, Portsmouth ended its relationship with slavery before the rest of the state. While slave owners in Portsmouth transitioned to a free wage labor system, the rest of New Hampshire lagged behind: it wouldn’t be until 1857 that the New Hampshire legislature took the final step of abolishing slavery altogether.

  Black men and women privately celebrated the gradual steps of emancipation but took a cautious and skeptical approach to the promises of freedom, as they still encountered daily indignities, violence, and a lack of citizenship or equal protection under the law. The black community of Portsmouth would pass on local history and information about the law to newcomers like Judge. Just as she had done in New York and Philadelphia, she listened, realizing that the decision to relocate to Portsmouth had been the most strategic of moves. Jud
ge had her Philadelphia friends to thank for that.

  Ten

  * * *

  A Close Call

  “Governor Langdon’s Mansion.”

  Early each morning, Ona Judge would rise from fitful sleep. Her mind refused to give her body the deep slumber that it needed as it revisited the images of her siblings and nieces left behind at Mount Vernon. Awakened by nightmares, Judge would have to train her mind to believe that she was safe from harm. The only cure for what must have been acute insomnia was the body-stiffening domestic labor that threw most black women into almost instant sleep at the end of their evenings.

  As the days transitioned into weeks, and then months, the fugitive fell into the rhythm of domestic work and life. The sun rose early during the summer in New England, a gift to Judge and the other domestics who depended upon its light for breakfast preparation and early-morning chores. Each day, as Judge walked to her new job, one that paid her wages, she would welcome the hard work that lay ahead. The work was difficult, and perhaps, to her mind, demeaning, but it was hard and honest labor that allowed her to survive in Portsmouth.

  Though she spent the entirety of her day in service, her work required trips to local shops to fetch needed household items. Judge moved about her new city without the surveillance of an owner and over time, grew accustomed to this new freedom. She could visit the marketplace to purchase turnips and striped bass, dinner items that she could present to her hosts as symbols of her deep appreciation. When she received her wages, she might even be able to surprise them with additional quantities of tea, and maybe even sugar.

  The long days of summer offered the fugitive a bit of extra daylight when she returned home from work. After helping her hosts with their own domestic chores, she could refresh herself on the art of sewing, remembering what an excellent seamstress she had been. Perhaps she would start with something simple, such as a linen shift for the lady of the house. Poor women could afford only one or two of these essential items, which they wore under their clothes every day. It would make a perfectly practical gift for any free black woman struggling to survive in New Hampshire.

  If Judge could save enough from her modest wages, she could purchase material, ribbons, and buttons, allowing her to create sample clothing for the residents of Portsmouth to examine. Over time, she might be able to earn a reputation as an esteemed seamstress, earning enough money to leave the domestic work and laundering behind. The skills that she perfected back at Mount Vernon and in the Executive Mansion might allow her to find a way out from underneath crippling poverty. Judge knew that in order for this to be a possibility, she would have to be patient, work hard, and save her money, all the while, and most importantly, remain undetected in her new city.

  While her walks about town were a reminder of her newfound freedom, they were always accompanied by the concerns of recapture. Judge never forgot that she was a hunted woman. Ever vigilant and alert, she knew she’d be a fool to dawdle in the narrow streets of her new city, for she might be asked to present freedom papers. Black men and women needed to walk with purpose in Portsmouth, lest they be questioned about their business, attracting unwanted or perhaps hostile attention from their white neighbors. Evening curfews were strictly enforced for Portsmouth’s black residents, and Judge would have made it a priority to be safely indoors and away from prying eyes and officials with invasive questions before nightfall. In the streets, allies could be hard to distinguish from enemies, and in many ways the family that could harm her the most was also the most prominent family in New Hampshire, the Langdon family.

  Senator Langdon and his family were probably the most respected family in New Hampshire and close friends of the Washingtons. A native of Portsmouth, John Langdon was born in 1741, and unlike many young men of his class, he bypassed an elite education and opted for a lucrative career in trade. Quickly learning the Atlantic trade routes, Langdon became a successful ship captain, transporting and selling goods and eventually purchasing his own vessels. It was only thanks to the restrictions of British trade policies that Langdon found himself thrust into the politics of the American revolutionary era. Langdon led a successful charge against a British military installation, cementing his position as a Revolutionary War hero and political leader in New Hampshire. Serving as a delegate to the Second Continental Congress, speaker of the New Hampshire House of Representatives, and a delegate to the Constitutional Convention, John Langdon became one of the most powerful men in the nation, eventually elected the first president of the United States Senate, the most powerful position in the country until George Washington was elected to the presidency. It was Langdon who sent word to Mount Vernon via messenger that Washington was the unanimous choice to lead the nation. After the election of George Washington, Langdon continued his political career, serving as a senator and a governor of New Hampshire.

  Langdon met and worked with George Washington on many occasions. In November of 1789, Washington described a visit to New Hampshire in his diary, writing, “Portsmouth, it is said, contains about 5,000 inhabitants. There are some good houses, (among which Col. Langdon’s may be esteemed the first).” Washington did not stay with Langdon in his home (the president preferred to stay in nearby inns, never wanting to impose upon his friends and political acquaintances), but he did enjoy tea in the Langdon parlor and shared a few meals with the Langdon family during the trip. The senator and his wife, Elizabeth Sherburne Langdon, often referred to as Betsy, had two children, Elizabeth and John, who died as an infant. As the Langdons became friendly with the Washingtons, Elizabeth developed a friendship with the president’s granddaughter, Nelly.

  During the 1790s, the two young girls visited with one another at the Executive Mansion in Philadelphia. One can imagine them taking long walks and talking incessantly about their lives. Elizabeth and Nelly represented the new version of American royalty, one the daughter of a senator, the other, the granddaughter of the president of the United States. Both girls understood the pressures that came along with elevated status, as well as its privileges. Ona Judge watched these two young girls grow up in the spotlight of early American politics.

  Judge remembered the times in Philadelphia when Moll was overburdened with caring for the Washington grandchildren, and she had stepped in to help. She may well have served the senator’s daughter tea or acted as a chaperone or caregiver for the two young girls. Elizabeth Langdon and Ona Judge knew each other, a liability that the fugitive must have contemplated after she arrived in New Hampshire.

  Liabilities and all, Judge came to appreciate if not love her new city. During the summer months following her escape, Judge carefully explored her surroundings and began piecing together a new life. She carried herself as if she had never been enslaved, an important performance for all fugitives, but one that began to feel more and more natural. That is, until Judge came face-to-face with her past.

  As she walked through the narrow streets of Portsmouth, perhaps on an errand or on her way to do a bit of shopping, a familiar sight ignited terror in the fugitive’s chest. There, in front of Judge, was the young girl she had served in the Executive Mansion. Elizabeth Langdon, now eighteen years old, walked directly toward the frightened fugitive. The moment that Judge had feared had finally come.

  The speed of her pulse quickened as Judge’s eyes focused upon the woman she had gotten to know in Philadelphia. Her first priority would be to flee, to leave the street and to hope that the senator’s daughter had not recognized her freckled face. Judge’s stiffened body, newly worn by the tyranny of domestic work, readied itself to run, to bolt from Portsmouth’s city streets and to look for refuge. Quaint and intimate, the small streets of her new city presented no safe space for the fugitive to hide. But within a few seconds she would have realized that running would be the worst possible reaction. If she fled, she would draw attention to herself, something no fugitive could risk.

  She had only a matter of seconds to figure out what she should do to safeguard her new life. For
most of her life as a slave, Ona Judge had to hide her feelings. She was accustomed to erasing anger from a furrowed brow or holding back tears in sorrow filled eyes, and now, she steadied herself and tucked her fear away. Lowering her head in an attempt to avoid eye contact with her owners’ family friend, Judge kept walking. Elizabeth Langdon paused, expecting a cordial greeting from the familiar face, but she received no such acknowledgment.

  Flashes of enslavement back at Mount Vernon might have quickly pushed their way to the front of Ona Judge’s mind. She would have remembered the stories of enslaved people who had unsuccessfully attempted escape back at her Virginia birthplace. Some of these men and women were punished, and sold. Her purposeful walk quickened to a trot as the fugitive swiftly dodged the dangerous confrontation. But where could she go? Where would she hide? A return to her new home would have been risky. She couldn’t chance being followed by Langdon, as it would put her host family in danger, or place them in a position of being charged with breaking federal laws for harboring a fugitive slave. She’d have to wait until nightfall to try to outwit any would-be captors.

  When Judge finally returned home, she most likely looked to her hosts for advice and strategy, as any semblance of a normal routine that she had cobbled together over the summer had been destroyed when she came face-to-face with Elizabeth Langdon. If for some miraculous reason Langdon had not seen her, it was just a matter of time before one of the Washingtons’ friends, or perhaps a family member of Portsmouth native Tobias Lear, discovered her.