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It was the Quakers living outside the city who took the first bold move to push the Society of Friends to ban African slavery. In 1711, Friends from Chester County asked the Yearly Meeting to prohibit Quakers from purchasing new slaves. While no formal mandate was issued, it was recommended that Friends withdraw themselves from the slave trade. What the Quakers began on the outskirts of Philadelphia would culminate in the first antislavery law in the new nation.
This monumental piece of legislation, passed March 1, 1780, tackled the explosive issue of slavery and set the standard for gradual emancipation in the North. It still allowed white owners to squeeze every bit of uncompensated labor out of enslaved black bodies until they were twenty-eight years old—middle-aged for the eighteenth century—leaving broken bodies and weary souls to find new ways for living after emancipation.
The process was slow, but Judge found herself living in a city that had promised to end slavery and was in the midst of doing so.
Surrounded by antislavery sentiment and laws that undermined their financial investments, the Washingtons knew they had to work quickly and quietly if they were to protect their wealth and their reputation. The president needed a solution to the problem of slaveholding in Philadelphia—one that would work for many years. So the Washingtons devised a plan: the couple would shuffle their slaves to and from Mount Vernon every six months, avoiding the stopwatch of Pennsylvania black freedom. If an excursion to Virginia proved a hardship for the family, a quick trip to a neighboring state such as New Jersey would serve the same purpose. The hourglass of slavery would be turned over every six months, and the president knew there was no time to waste.
Still in Virginia, the president sent clear and direct orders back to Philadelphia; the slaves at the Executive Mansion needed to leave the state, and soon. Washington decided that his wife should plan an expedited trip home to Virginia, bringing all of their slaves back to the safety of Southern laws. The president was primarily concerned with his adult slaves, who he (erroneously, as it turned out) believed were the only ones capable of freeing themselves under Pennsylvania law.
But while the president was adamant about protecting his human property, he was only two years into his first term, and in no hurry to agitate the powerful antislavery forces in Philadelphia. Washington preferred to handle his private affairs with discretion and “to deceive” the public if necessary. The president directed his secretary to reveal his intentions to no one except his wife, stating, “I request that these Sentiments and this advise may be known to none but yourself & Mrs. Washington.”
Just as she had prepared for the move to New York, Martha Washington executed important plans in the absence of her husband, but this time it had to be done in secrecy. Although they faced significant time constraints, the president wanted his wife to quickly gather up their human property without setting off any alarms. The slaves had to be kept in the dark, for if they knew why they were to accompany Mrs. Washington on her trip to Virginia, they might run off, just like Randolph’s slaves. As directed, Martha Washington began to think strategically about a trip back to Virginia. She always looked forward to her Mount Vernon visits, but now, her trips would not only be for rest and relaxation. The first lady was tasked with protecting an investment in human property, property that would eventually be passed down to her heirs.
On April 19, just seven days after the president corresponded with Tobias Lear, Mrs. Washington wrote to her niece Frances “Fanny” Bassett Washington, who was back home at Mount Vernon. She inquired about family and friends and prodded for news, hoping that she would hear word about an impending pregnancy. But most importantly, embedded in the first lady’s letter was an excuse for why Ona Judge’s brother, Austin, would be returning to Mount Vernon (ahead of the others) on such short notice. Mrs. Washington explained to her niece that while she was really in no position to spare Austin’s services in Philadelphia, she needed “to fulfill my promises to his wife” and to allow Austin to reunite with his family. Austin’s stay in Virginia would be short, a gift from a benevolent slave owner, or so it would seem.
The first lady never let on to her niece the real reason for sending her slave back to Mount Vernon: Austin’s six-month residency limit was about to expire, and Mrs. Washington needed an excuse to shuffle him out of state. The Washingtons must have trusted Austin, for not only did they allow him to travel back to Mount Vernon alone, but they gave him resources with which to do it. Austin was given a total of $11.66 for the trip, an amount that would take care of the cost of the stage to Baltimore, transportation from Baltimore to Alexandria, and food and lodging throughout his journey.
The Washingtons began to breathe a little easier, knowing that the plan to move Austin out of Philadelphia was securely under way. Martha Washington could now focus on preparing for the family’s trip back to Mount Vernon, an excursion that would bring the rest of the slaves on High Street back to Virginia. But Tobias Lear interrupted the Washingtons’ fleeting relief with more bad news. The first family needed to worry about the residency clock for all of their slaves, not just the adults.
Washington had been confident that Christopher, Richmond, and Ona Judge were exempt from Pennsylvania’s gradual abolition law because of their status as minors, but Lear reported that the president’s beliefs were incorrect. After another discreet conversation with the attorney general, Lear told the president that his three juvenile slaves could also claim freedom after six months’ time. The secretary wrote to the president that “those Slaves who were under the age of 18, might, after a residence of six months, apply to the Overseers of the Poor, who had authority to bind them to a master until they should attain the age of 18, when they would become free.” This report was a misstatement, as most black children in Philadelphia were indentured until the age of twenty-eight, but according to the law, if Christopher, Richmond, or Ona Judge stayed in Philadelphia longer than six months, they would have a chance at freedom. They might have to wait, but in Philadelphia, the opportunity existed.
Imprudently believing that he could prevent his slaves from hearing about the laws, Washington insisted that the utmost discretion be used regarding their plan of slave rotation in and out of Philadelphia. More than a loss of labor was at stake. If Ona Judge and her enslaved companions uncovered the truth about their slave status in Philadelphia, they would possess knowledge that could set them free. Power would shift from the president to his human property, making them less likely to serve their master faithfully, and eventually, they might run away. Washington wrote that if his slaves knew that they had a right to freedom, it would “make them insolent in the State of Slavery.” Lear had less faith in the idea that the slaves would remain in the dark than Washington. There were people in Philadelphia who would help if not encourage Ona Judge and her enslaved companions to take their freedom. Tobias Lear noted his concern to Washington, stating, “There were not wanting persons who would not only give them (the Slaves) advise; but would use all means to entice them from their masters.” If Washington’s slaves didn’t escape, they would likely be impudent and therefore worthless, ruined by Northern freedom.
The loss of slaves would signal more than a loss of face. Still teetering on the brink of financial insolvency, Washington continued to live beyond his means, and losing property would only add to his financial woes. Ona Judge, Moll, Austin, Giles, Christopher Sheels, and Richmond belonged to the Parke Custis estate, and it was the president’s responsibility to manage its human property. If anything happened to his wife’s slaves, George Washington would be held responsible. In his letter to Tobias Lear, the president wrote, “It behooves me to prevent the emancipation of them, otherwise I shall not only loose the use of them, but may have them to pay for.”
It was clear. All the president’s slaves would need to be carefully monitored. By April 24, Austin was back at Mount Vernon and Richmond was scheduled to sail to Alexandria on the following day. Mrs. Washington took no chances and quickly organized a trip to Trento
n, New Jersey, taking both Ona Judge and Christopher with her, restarting their six-month residency clock. With Giles and Paris accompanying the president in Virginia, Moll and Hercules were the only slaves left on High Street who needed rotating. Moll would not immediately travel back to Mount Vernon, a suggestion that the president and Mrs. Washington must have trusted her not to attempt escape. But the Washingtons had deep concerns about the remaining enslaved member of the household—Hercules, the cook, would need close watching, for many reasons.
As the president’s famed chef, Hercules cultivated a relationship with the Washingtons that earned him an elevated status and a modicum of respect. Viewed as a crucial member of the staff on High Street, he prepared the president’s breakfast hoecakes, white corn-mush patties, and Saturday evening meals of salt fish hash. The Washingtons relied upon Hercules and allowed him the opportunity to make an income by selling unwanted kitchen “slops.” Used tea leaves, animal skins, and leftover stock could fetch a decent price at market, permitting the enslaved chef to earn between one and two hundred dollars a year. With his personal income, Hercules purchased fine clothing that he displayed on his evening walks. Dressed in a velvet-collared coat with bright metal buttons, shiny shoes, and a pocket watch, Hercules left his master’s house to socialize with his new Philadelphia friends. His gold-headed cane and cocked hat reminded everyone of his elevated financial status, even though he was a slave.
The Washingtons were quick to believe that if any of their slaves would use the law to find freedom, it would be Hercules. After all, he had the financial resources to support himself. They would not risk it. They decided to send Hercules to Mount Vernon ahead of the family’s annual summer travel to Virginia, an odd mandate that would have raised questions given what a prominent role he played, but a move that was necessary to pause the stopwatch of freedom.
Though the Washingtons got away with the subterfuge surrounding Austin’s return, the lies and reasons given for Hercules’s premature departure were exposed, even with heightened discretion. There was an information breech in the President’s House, though the perpetrator remained unknown. Someone did, indeed, tell Hercules that under the laws of the state he could free himself and that it was now obvious his owners were making excuses to send him home. He knew that the Washingtons did not trust him. Hercules had decisions to make, and he had to make them quickly. If the chef took advantage of the law, he would have to choose between his freedom and his family, a dilemma faced by every enslaved person who considered escape. His daughters Evey and Delia were motherless small children back at Mount Vernon, and his son Richmond (who was no favored possession of the president) worked at his side in Philadelphia. If Hercules refused to return to Mount Vernon, he would in essence walk away from his family. The reprisals that his children would surely confront drove the chef to think seriously about his options.
Hercules chose his family over freedom. Perhaps it was an easy decision, or maybe he arrived at his choice after much deliberation. In any case, once his decision was made, the chef knew that he needed to prove himself trustworthy to the Washingtons. In order to remain in his position in Philadelphia, he must erase their concerns about his loyalty. Hercules needed an opportunity to make his case to the president’s secretary, and he would not have to wait long.
By the end of May, Lear informed Hercules that he would travel back to Virginia and watched the chef for an unusual or stubborn response. Lear wrote to the president, “If Hercules should decline the offer which will be made him of going home, it will be a pretty strong proof of his intention to take the advantage of the law at the expiration of six months.”
The secretary told Hercules that the first family was aware of the information breech, and what happened next told the Washingtons exactly what they needed to know.
Hercules appeared agitated and desperate when he explained to the secretary that he had no intentions of leaving his owners and that his faithfulness had never swayed. Whatever theatrics Hercules employed were convincing, and the secretary accepted all that the enslaved chef told him. Lear wrote to the president that “[Hercules] was mortified to the last degree to think that a suspicion could be entertained of his fidelity or attachment to you.” The chef managed to convince Mrs. Washington and Tobias Lear that he could be trusted to stay with the family in Philadelphia beyond the month of May and the expiration of his six-month residency. On June 3, Lear purchased two new shirts for Hercules and gave him at least $7.20 to cover the cost of his transportation, food, and lodging for his trip back to Virginia. Lear’s confidence in Hercules was stronger than ever as he wrote to the president that the enslaved chef “has accordingly continued here ’till this time, and tomorrow takes his departure for Virginia.” His performance worked, and Hercules was once again in the good graces of his owners. He would have to wait another six years before he had the opportunity to take his freedom. On February 22, 1797, Hercules ran away and was never seen again. It was George Washington’s birthday.
The Washingtons’ plan to circumvent the law was successful, and for five years, from 1791 to 1796, the president and Mrs. Washington carefully transported their slaves to and from Pennsylvania. Tobias Lear assisted his employers in their slave shuffle, but he also made certain to voice his opinions about human bondage to the president.
You will permit me now, Sir, (and I am sure you will pardon me for doing it) to declare, that no consideration should induce me to take these steps to prolong the slavery of a human being, had I not the fullest confidence that they will at some future period be liberated, and the strongest conviction that their situation with you is far preferable to what they would probably obtain in a state of freedom.
Both Lear and Washington held fast to paternalistic assumptions about African slavery, believing that enslaved men and women were better off with a generous owner than emancipated and living independent lives. Decades later, Southerners would justify the institution of slavery with descriptions of the supposed benefits that came with enslavement. According to many Southerners, slaves were better cared for, better fed, sheltered, and treated almost as though they were members of the family. Northern emancipation left thousands of ex-slaves without assistance, and Southerners charged that free blacks were living and dying in the cold alleyways of the urban North. Many believed Northern freedom to be a far less humane existence, one that left black men and women to die in the streets from exposure and starvation.
But Washington must have suggested to Lear in earlier conversations that he would eventually release his slaves from bondage, prompting Lear to continue assisting the president. He would safeguard the Washingtons’ secrets and continue shuffling Ona Judge and the other slaves at the Executive Mansion from the North to the South every six months at least. On each lengthy trip back to Virginia, Ona Judge would have thought about what she lost and gained by going home, understanding the growing divide between the orbits of the slaveholding South and the fragile freedom of the North.
Six
* * *
Life in Philadelphia
Bethel A.M.E. Church, the first Colored Methodist church in Philadelphia, established in 1787.
On a Tuesday evening in early June, Philadelphia’s Southwark Theatre prepared to welcome the president and his family for a production of The Beaux’ Stratagem, a comedy written by George Farquhar. The Washingtons arrived at the theater and were promptly taken to the east stage box from which hung the United States coat of arms. The box was decorated with red drapery and cushioned seats, and soldiers secured the entrances at each stage door. Filled with racy scenes and irreverent innuendo, the production thoroughly entertained the Washingtons, and they left the theater wanting to share their experience with friends and family, even with their slaves. The following day, Ona Judge was given permission to attend the same theater with her brother Austin and the always well-dressed Hercules.
An eighteenth-century stage performance was typically a four- or five-hour affair that included music and dance pe
rformances. Judge took her seat, perhaps in the pit or in the rear of the balcony, and watched a story unfold about two young men who had lost their fortunes and were determined to find wealthy wives. The lead characters are confronted with many obstacles on their quest to find fortune, but in the end, meet with love and wealth. (While the performance entertained theatergoers, it would have reminded Judge about her station in life. She was gifted a ticket to the play, but she would never be able to look for love and fortune, not while she remained a slave.)
The slaves at the President’s House enjoyed the cosmopolitan pleasures of their new city. In addition to the theater, Judge attended the circus and went to see the tumblers perform whenever her owners would allow it. Sometimes the president or Mrs. Washington would give small financial gifts to their slaves and allow them to shop. On February 22, 1791, the president’s birthday, Judge, Austin, Hercules, and Moll received one dollar from the Washingtons with a suggestion that they purchase gifts for their family members and send them home to Mount Vernon. Christopher only received fifty cents, an implication that his owners were less than pleased with his service. Christopher had big shoes to fill, since the disabled William Lee had returned to Mount Vernon. Washington had a notable bond with the longtime service of Lee, and it’s likely that no one else could build such a relationship with the president.
Judge experienced life as an urban slave, growing familiar with Philadelphia, its cultural venues, and the social elite. Accompanying Mrs. Washington on her social calls, the slave girl matured into a young bondwoman who met many of the city’s leaders and influencers. Although she was not an invited guest, her presence among the wives of policy makers, bankers, and politicians exposed her to extremely sophisticated people. Judge would never have socialized with Mrs. Washington’s friends, but she certainly became familiar with the slaves and servants of the nation’s top movers and shakers. She became a recognizable face among both white and black Philadelphians.